A Mermaid’s Guide to Survival in the Apocalypse – CH4

Chapter 4: Acid Rain

The real world was deafening.

Mo An’s ear-fins had only just unfurled before curling tightly back against his head.

For a mermaid, hearing was the first sense to develop, and it was extraordinarily sharp. In the ocean depths, merfolk used subtle sound waves to trace currents and detect predators. Because the deep sea was so quiet, the violent roar of the surface world battered his ears with overwhelming force.

Ever since he had been brought up from the abyss, he had lived inside the tranquil seawater tank. Now, every vibration sent a pulse of pain through his head.

Had he truly left the glass enclosure? What was happening out there?

Danger is everywhere.

That single thought consumed Xia Yu’s mind. He had to keep moving until he found a place to hide.

Yet, where was safe?

He had no idea.

Before this nightmare began, Xia Yu had never even understood the meaning of danger. Life inside the institute had been quiet and routine. Nothing terrible had ever happened to him there. Because he had been shielded from the outside world his whole life, he had never learned how to protect himself.

There had always been robots nearby. Whenever he couldn’t find a human researcher, a machine was always around to answer his questions and fix problems with endless patience. Without them, he felt completely helpless.

Knowing that those very same machines now wanted to kill him sent a shudder through his frail body.

As he ran, the tears he had fought so hard to hold back finally broke through, streaming down his cheeks. When he cried, his silver eyes looked no different from anyone else’s, turning red at the rims.

Thoughts of Wang Qin rushed into his head.

She had to be dead. Surrounded by an army of machines and already bleeding heavily, there was no chance she had made it out.

She had traded her life to buy him an escape.

What had she told him to do?

During the frantic rush in the elevator, terror had blocked out everything else. Now, his emotions thawed like melting ice, sending waves of sorrow and grief through his chest.

For a brief, reckless moment, Xia Yu almost stopped running. The only person who had ever truly loved him was gone. He had no survival skills. Even if he ran out into the streets, how long could a weak child like him last?

The tears fell harder. Because of the jellyfish genes woven into his DNA, crying came naturally to him. Even so, he kept his mouth clamped shut, terrified that a single sob might give him away.

Aircraft screamed through the overcast sky. Though their paths seemed chaotic, their flight paths formed a lethal, coordinated web across the city.

Desperate cries echoed from the avenues. Somewhere nearby, an explosion flared, and a massive glass facade shattered into sparkling fragments. Xia Yu glanced up through the glare, watching the sharp shards drift down like bright butterflies falling from the sky.

Then, high above, a figure leaped from the edge of a skyscraper, plummeting straight to the pavement below.

Thud.

“Ah!”

Xia Yu gasped and immediately slapped both hands over his mouth. Hot tears ran across his knuckles and dripped onto the pavement.

Why had that person jumped? Had they realized there was no escape? Had the machines cornered them with nowhere left to turn?

There was no time to think.

The impact had drawn the attention of a nearby patrol unit. It was an unfamiliar model, entirely different from the slender maintenance bots inside the lab. Those indoor machines had long, delicate limbs built for fine tools. This unit was shorter, with broad, heavy plating and thick, powerful legs.

Its head was a smooth triangle. Each of its three flat faces held a glowing red lens—sensors arranged to scan three directions at once.

Xia Yu dropped low on his knees and crawled toward an oversized dumpster along the wall, the heavy egg still balanced on his back.

Everything out here was foreign to him; he had never seen a metal trash container this large. Still, his first thought was to get the egg inside.

Mo An was his only friend. He had to keep him safe.

The bundle was shockingly heavy, filled with seawater that sloshed with every movement. Having eaten nothing since waking, Xia Yu’s energy was running on empty. His thin arms shook violently under the strain, his muscles burning.

Faster. I have to move faster.

Straining on his tiptoes, he mustered every scrap of strength to heave the bundle over the high rim and into the bin. To keep Mo An hidden, he reached up to pull the heavy lid down.

He had misjudged the weight of the thick steel sheet. It slipped from his small fingers and slammed shut with a deafening clang.

No.

I’m going to die.

The triangular-headed machine spun instantly toward the sound and stepped in his direction.

Xia Yu had never touched a firearm, but he could tell the barrel mounted to the robot’s arm was meant for killing. With no time left to hesitate, he made a split-second choice. Turning on his bare heels, he bolted down the narrow alleyway beside the bin.

His feet splashed through murky puddles, kicking up dirty water with every step.

He hit the end of the alley, and a wave of despair washed over him.

It was a dead end. A solid concrete wall blocked the far side completely.

The patrol unit had initially turned toward the dumpster, but within a fraction of a second, its audio sensors locked onto Xia Yu’s splashing footsteps. It altered its path, closing the distance to the alley entrance in moments.

Its pace changed from a measured sweep to an aggressive pursuit.

Red beams swept over the damp brick, painting every surface in a harsh glow. The smooth walls offered nowhere to duck out of sight. The unit’s triangular head revolved slowly, its three red eyes scanning the passage from side to side.

One of the beams caught on a messy pile of discarded building debris near the back. Rubbish and scrap were common in these side streets—the most obvious place for a target to hide.

The machine stepped forward, its heavy foot sinking into the mud.

Xia Yu clamped his teeth together, terrified that even his shivering breath might give him away.

The mechanical steps drew closer.

Clank. Clank.

Xia Yu squeezed his eyes shut.

Boom!

A concussive blast erupted before the robot even reached the pile. It was not firing standard lead bullets; it used a high-pressure pneumatic cannon designed to obliterate biological targets with pure kinetic force.

The blast pulverized the rubbish heap, sending mangled pipes and broken concrete flying through the air. The shockwave scattered debris meters high. Nothing hiding under that mound could have survived.

Having confirmed the target area was destroyed, the patrol unit turned on its heel and marched out of the alley. It did not bother searching the remains. There was no point; the entire pile had been reduced to smoking gravel.

Dust and burnt residue drifted down like blackened leaves, crumbling to gray powder as they touched the wet ground. The sharp smell of ozone and scorched scrap filled the air.

Above, the towering structures pierced the heavy cloud cover like jagged metal cliffs.

Then, a light drizzle began to fall.

As the droplets passed through the flashing neon signs, they picked up vibrant shades of pink and blue. But when the moisture struck Xia Yu’s skin, his small body—tucked deep inside a hairline crack between two concrete slabs—flinched at the sting.

This was acid rain.

He had read about it in the institute’s books, but he had never expected to encounter it the moment he stepped outside. As the mist coated his bare skin, red marks began to bloom across his arms. If his nervous system felt pain normally, he would have been screaming from the burns.

Half a minute earlier, he had faced two options: dive beneath the pile of rubbish, or wedge himself into the hairline gap between the retaining wall and the corner pillar.

He had chosen the gap.

He knew enough about machines to guess they would target the most obvious hiding spot first. The only trouble was that the crack was too narrow to conceal his legs.

In the nick of time, he had used his jellyfish ability.

A jellyfish was composed almost entirely of water. By willing the blood and tissue in his lower leg to turn clear and liquid, he had made his exposed limb transparent in the dim light.

Now, as the color gradually returned to his skin, the extent of his injuries became clear.

His left leg was badly battered. Flying concrete shards from the explosion had caught his ankle, snapping the joint out of place. His foot hung at an awkward, sideways angle, meaning he could only put weight on the outer bone.

Acid drizzle continued to fall from the sky. His twisted ankle was swollen and discolored. And out on the main street, the patrol unit might still be circling.

Xia Yu was trapped.

Tears welled up again, tracking down his dirty cheeks. His small shoulders shook as he sat curled in the narrow crevice, quietly crying to himself.

Once more, he thought about simply letting go. He still barely understood why this was happening, yet everything he loved had been wiped away in an afternoon. Professor Wang was gone. There was no one left to look after him.

The outside world was far more dangerous than the lab. One tiny mistake meant death. And he was just a little jellyfish with useless tricks.

He could not stay in this crevice forever. But leaving meant stepping right back out into the burning rain.

He wondered why Professor Wang had pushed him to escape at all. Wouldn’t it have been easier to die in the facility? He didn’t feel much pain anyway. A single shot or a quick blade would have ended everything in a second. He wouldn’t have had to feel this cold terror.

Then her three final wishes surfaced in his thoughts:

Save the world.

Raise Mo An.

See the ocean.

Save the world? Raise Mo An?

Professor Wang had to be teasing him. How could a useless kid like him save the world?

Wait… Mo An.

What was happening to the egg?

The thought dried his tears. He could not afford to die here—not when he had made a promise.

“I’m just a little jellyfish… living way down in the sea…”

Xia Yu waited until his trembling settled, singing his small melody under his breath to build up his nerve before edging out from the crack.

The acid rain continued to mist through the alley, turning his exposed skin bright red and irritated. A dull, thrumming sensation pulsed from his damaged ankle.

Struggling to bend down, he picked up a bent metal bar from the rubble to use as a walking stick and a weapon. Then, leaning his weight onto the makeshift crutch, he limped back toward the street, pausing every few steps to listen.

Fortune seemed to favor him this time. The triangular-headed scout had moved on.

He reached the metal dumpster, pulled the heavy lid up with great effort, and hauled his bruised body over the edge. Before even checking on his companion, he lowered the cover shut, sealing out the burning mist.

The foul-smelling container became their tiny sanctuary. The interior was barely wide enough for the two of them, but to Xia Yu, it felt safer than the open world outside.

In the dark interior, his silvery pupils caught the faint light filtering through the seams. He carefully undid the coat’s loose sleeves to check the shell.

“You’re safe,” he whispered, slumping against the smooth surface in relief. “You didn’t get hurt.”

He was completely drained.

“Don’t worry,” he said softly, stroking the shell as if reassuring himself. “I think I know how to stay alive now. Once I rest a little, I’ll find us a proper home. Somewhere hidden. Then we won’t have to run from the bad machines anymore.”

He spoke quietly into the dark, even though he had no plan, and even though the egg had never once answered him.

As he whispered, exhaustion finally dragged him under, and he fell into a heavy sleep.

Outside, the acid rain drummed steadily against the metal roof. In that small, forgotten box, the two of them were all each other had.

Inside the shell, Mo An moved slightly toward the warmth of Xia Yu’s chest, though his eyelids remained heavy and shut. Separated only by the thin membrane, he fought to lift his lashes. Something terrible was unfolding out there. He had to wake up faster.

Xia Yu slept for more than ten hours, worn down by sheer terror and physical strain.

He drifted awake twice during the night, but the thought of opening his eyes to face a ruined world made him curl up and pull himself back into unconsciousness. He wished he could just stay asleep forever.

His empty stomach refused to let him.

The gnawing hunger woke him for good. He lay still for a long time, his hand resting instinctively on the egg beside him.

“Don’t be scared,” he muttered. “I’m awake.”

He checked the shell again, worried about whether the embryo could survive without a steady supply of fresh seawater.

“I’ll take a look outside,” he added softly. Talking aloud made him feel a little less alone.

He pushed the lid up an inch and peeked out into the alley.

It was morning. The sky remained thick with gray smog, but there was one relief: the acid rain had stopped.

Now that the air had cleared, they could not stay here.

“Where should we go…?” His mood plummeted. “We don’t have anywhere to hide.”

He considered the problem. “Maybe I should leave you here while I search for a safer spot. Once I find somewhere good, I’ll come back and carry you over.”

Inside the membrane, the sleeping merboy remained still, though his tail fin gave an almost imperceptible twitch.

“Don’t worry, I won’t leave you behind,” Xia Yu whispered, his lips trembling slightly. “I’m ten years old now. I keep my promises.”

He shrank back from the open slit, reluctant to step out into the dangerous daylight.

Suddenly, a bright glare lit up the inside of the dumpster.

A narrow projection cut through the darkness, beaming directly from the silver access band clamped around his arm.

[Depart from this position. Move 520 meters to the west and access the coded security hatch. You may enter the primary drainage network safely.]

The voice came from the device. It was a synthetic female voice—cold, steady, and precise.

Xia Yu froze, every hair on his arms standing on end.

[You cannot remain at this coordinate. The next area purge will commence shortly. This container does not provide adequate ballistic protection. Proceed to the subsurface conduit immediately.]

“Who… who are you?” Xia Yu held his forearm up to his face, his heart pounding.

Could he trust this? Every piece of technology had turned against living people; this could easily be a trap to lure him out into the open.

“Are you Nuwa?” he asked quietly. He had often seen senior researchers speak to the main system through these bands.

A few moments of static followed before the band chimed again.

[I am not Nuwa. I am Jingwei.]

[You must vacate the area immediately. The cleanup force is projected to arrive at your coordinates in fourteen minutes.]

[Move. Now.]

A Mermaid’s Guide to Survival in the Apocalypse