by Sam J Fires
“Hold on” interjected Eric. “I think there may be something.” He looked at the camera and turned it on, playing back the footage that he’d recorded shortly before the car took flight. Jane and Donna crowded around on either side of him to watch. The lens was focusing on a series of particles that were flying in unity, slowly gaining traction in the air before heading towards the car’s windscreen.
“It… it seems to be attacking the glass,” observed Donna.
“So what exactly are we saying?” asked Eric, pausing the video. “That this sand is attracted to glass?”
“Unless you can think of another rational explanation,” said Donna.
“Donna,” Jane chimed in. “I saw a man practically eaten by a sand cloud. Rational has gone out the window.” She tapped her finger just below the socket where her left eye should have been. “So, that would explain why the cloud targeted my sunglasses. If the storm gets riled up enough, it targets glass specifically. It’s not much to go on. But it’s a start. Nice job, Eric.”
Eric smiled perhaps a little too widely. He couldn’t help feeling a sense of gratification but dropped the smile when he remembered their situation.
“So, the moral of the story is, if you’ve got glass, you’re fucked. Make sure you don’t have any items on you containing glass. Also, if we’re going out there, we’re taking a risk. The only things we get to decide are what we’re risking it for and how for long we’re risking it. When we go back out there, we need to have a solid idea of where we’re going and what we’re doing.
“So, does anyone know where we need to go? Because I could do with a pharmacy right now.” Jane winced as she pressed her face around the socket. “I’ve just had my eye gouged out. I need painkillers, and ideally something to stop it from turning into an infection. We also need food. There’s a convenience store nearby, assuming nobody has beaten us to it.” Jane narrowed her eyes at Donna and Eric. “By the way, I am aware of the irony of a cop encouraging you to loot, so don’t bother pointing that one out.”
“Leo,” said Eric suddenly. “We need to get Leo. He’s still out there.”
“Okay, Okay,” said Jane impatiently. “So, we start at the pharmacy, then we go to the store, then we get your friend. Capiche?”
Donna and Eric both nodded.
“Good. Get some rest for the next thirty minutes. God knows we’re gonna need it.” She hoped that her steely resolve would disguise the fact that under her fake calm there was a slowly building volcano of fear and doubt.
CHAPTER 6 - DONNA
When the three finally ventured outside again, they stepped into a world changed.
The storm had certainly died down. The air was still but continued to radiate heat around them. There was no concern about anyone being swept off their feet. But they were under no delusions about this perilous calm and that death could only be minutes away.
The world now seemed to be permanently basking in a red glow. Throughout the streets, there was an uneven beach of piles of red sand. “Whatever you do, don’t touch any of this shit,” cautioned Jane.
“Why, is it dangerous?” asked Donna.
“I don’t know. How badly do you want to find out?”
As Donna glanced at the sand piles, she noticed limbs sticking out, the skin in the process of burning away. That could have been me.
She noticed that Eric was looking over the camera which had been tucked away in his bag. Ever since he had recovered it from the car wreckage his fingers were constantly flexing as though he was waiting for an opportunity to start recording the chaos around them.
Donna looked over to Jane, who seemed to have taken on the role of leader, a role that obviously came naturally, considering her job. She admired how the woman was able to remain completely unflappable in the wake of the storm and the loss of an eye. Donna couldn’t imagine herself maintaining such composure under the same circumstances.
They turned into the main street, the ground crunching beneath their feet. Many of the windows in the bars and stores were in various states of destruction. Some only had scratches, others had small holes in them, many had been blown out completely.
But the most disturbing sight was the bodies. Corpses littered the streets, nature’s destruction on display for the world to see, their clothes and skin singed and charred, their torsos rapidly disintigrating.
“Jesus fucking Christ”, murmured Eric. Donna prayed that they didn’t find his friend in a similar state.
When they arrived at the pharmacy, although the window had been completely destroyed, the display shelves had provided something of a makeshift barrier preventing the sand from getting into the store.
Jane slowly opened the door, beckoning for the others to follow. Inside, many of the shelves had already been raided, with most of the painkillers already gone, much to Jane’s disappointment.
“I’m going to take a wild stab in the dark and assume neither of you have had any experience in the medical profession?” Donna and Eric shook their heads. “Shame, cause looking at what’s left, I don’t know if I can tell what’s going to take the edge off and what’s going to make me dull as a board.”
Donna flinched at that comment. For a long time, she had resisted medication, even when the doctors, therapists, her friends and family had suggested it. Everyone was telling her to take it. But Donna had held off because she’d done her research and wasn’t entirely on board with the idea of potentially turning herself into a zombie. And though her loved ones meant well, she believed they were only advocating it so that it took some of the responsibility off of them. She could be right. After eleven years of navigating my mood swings, I can’t really blame them.
But for the last four months, she had been taking medication diligently and had dealt with the thankfully only minimal side effects. Over time, she had come to accept them as a necessary evil.
As Donna looked through the back of the pharmacy, trying to check for something that could pass for bipolar medication, she couldn’t find anything that could help her.
“Everything all right?” asked Jane, noting Donna’s panic-stricken face.
“Just trying to find some decent meds,” managed Donna without turning to look her in the eye.
“What you looking for?”
The question came like a wrecking ball. When it came to her bipolar, Donna had taken to holding back on some of the finer details, mainly avoiding using the word ‘bipolar’. The people she had told had never said much beyond a few phrases like ‘Oh, I see’ and ‘You can’t let it define you’ and the grating ‘Oh, that’s a shame’. Instead, their body language did all the talking, and Donna could remember how many of them had tensed up, as though standing next to her was like standing next to the sun. And after that, while people hadn’t entirely gone out of their way to avoid her, they hadn’t made any effort to include her either, as though she was contagious. Like she was a wild animal they weren’t sure how to behave around.
Donna wondered whether Jane and Eric would follow suit. “…my condition,” she finally said, adopting a ‘fuck-it’ mentality. They’re only going to cotton on if I start playing up anyway.
Jane could clearly see she was holding back. “Listen” she said, soothingly. “It’s not my business what you’ve got to deal with. You don’t want to tell us, fair enough. But I intend on keeping everyone I find alive. And the more I know about what people need, the better I can do that. So, if there’s anything you can tell me that will make that job so much easier for me, now’s as good a time as any to share it.”
For a brief moment, Donna gained the courage to dive into the abyss. “Bipolar” she said, trying not to make it sound too serious.
Jane nodded her head while Donna tried desperately to read her, looking for some sign of disapproval or alarm, but found none. “Okay, well, we’ll see what we can find. If you feel anxious or if you have any particular triggers, just let me know, okay?” After a pause, she added sardonically, “But probably best not to wait u
ntil we’re at crisis mode before telling me.”
Either she’s taken a masterclass in bullshitting or she really isn’t that bothered. Either way, Donna appreciated her pragmatic suggestions.
The best they could acquire from the pharmacy were a few painkillers and some bandages, one of which Jane wrapped around her head, concealing her wounded eye.
Looking through the convenience store, they recovered some food packets that would expire within the next two weeks, and in lieu of the lack of bottled water, they had had to make do with energy drinks. “We’ll be bouncing off the walls,” grumbled Jane. The tinned food was completely gone too. Not that they could take much with them, anyway. They didn’t have the means of transporting a large stock of food. And nobody volunteered to test out the possibility of navigating a cart down the sand-ridden pavement.
“This should keep us going for a day or two before we hit the panic button,” remarked Jane. “Now comes the hard part.” She turned to Eric. “We need to get your friend.”
CHAPTER 7 - ERIC
It had only been a few hours since Donna and Eric had left Leo trapped in the wrecked vehicle, but Eric felt as though years had passed since they had last seen each other. Perhaps it’s the changed landscape which is giving me the illusion of time having passed.
It occurred to Eric that he wasn’t sure how bad Leo’s injuries were. For all he knew, Leo could have been at death’s door. What if he dies before I can get to him? Eric tried not to fixate on that thought as they all headed for the car, manoeuvring around the sand dunes like they were some surreal obstacle course.
Much to Eric’s relief, the car was where they’d left it. “Leo?” barked Jane. “Leo, can you hear me? My name is Jane Benson. I’m a police officer. I’m with your friend Eric. We’re going to try and get you out of there.”
No reply. A cold pit materialized in Eric’s stomach.
Jane kneeled down, trying to get a good look inside of the car.
“There’s no one here,” she said.
“What?” Eric got down on his hands and knees and looked into the car. The driver’s seat was empty.
“Are you sure this is the right car?”
“Yes, I’m fucking sure,” snapped Eric, flustered. He stood up, anxiously looked around the street, as if hoping for Leo to pop out and reveal himself.
But they were alone. And Leo was gone.
“He’s dead,” Eric muttered. “He’s fucking dead.” He paced about on the spot, trying to imagine a scenario where Leo might still be alive, then turned on Donna. “This is your fault. We shouldn’t have left him.” He strode towards her, fury building. “We shouldn’t have fucking …”
“Hey! Back off!” commanded Jane, placing herself between Eric and Donna. “Leave her alone.”
“She said we would come back for him later,” said Eric, scathingly. “She said …”
“She made the right decision,” said Jane. “If you guys had stuck around during the worst of the storm, you’d both be dead. It’s the reason you’re both standing here with me and not buried alive under all this sand.”
Not willing to see the logic, Eric was running on pure emotion. “My best friend is dead.”
“Is he really?” Upon Eric’s quizzical look, Jane continued. “Then why am I not staring at a decaying corpse?”
“So, what? You think he got out?”
Jane shook her head. “Based on what you told me, he wasn’t exactly in a position to get himself out of there. So, there are a few possibilities; either he recovered enough to be able to get out and went to find help. Or someone came and helped him out. Either way, there is a chance he could still be out there, and you never know, we might find him later.”
“Really?” Eric exclaimed incredulously. “That’s your theory?”
“Eric, in my line of work, no one is officially dead until there’s a body.” When Eric still didn’t give the impression of being appeased, Jane continued. “You think you’re the only one who has lost somebody today? I don’t want to know how many are lying dead across the city. This whole block might as well be one big fucking graveyard.”
Eric fell silent at this macabre thought.
From out of nowhere, one of the piles of sand suddenly exploded right next to Donna, sending red specks scattering all around them.
Jane whipped around, looking up and down the street for any signs of life or movement.
“What the hell was that?” asked Eric.
“Sounded like a gunshot,’ Jane said. “Stay close to each other.”
Another rang out. Very close. Then came another and Donna felt the wall behind her crack.
Then came another bullet, this time finding a target, grazing Jane in the shoulder, causing her to drop her gun. “Fuck!” she screamed. Picking it up, she pointed to the end of the street. “We need to get out of here. We might as well be in a shooting gallery. Go!”
They barely had time to start sprinting before another shot rang out, striking the sidewalk just behind Jane. Some of the shots penetrated the sandpiles. Others, the bodies in the street.
Donna found herself freezing, anxiety threatening to overwhelm her. She slowed her pace, trying to think clearly, when Jane grabbed her by the shoulders and marched her forward. “Come on, Donna,” she shouted. “We’re almost there.”
Within minutes they were back in the parking garage, all panting to catch their breath. Jane was getting another bandage and wrapping it around her arm and shoulder. “I swear to God, this storm is going to hack me to pieces,” she murmured. Once she finished tying the bandage, she looked in Donna’s direction. “You all right?” Jane asked Donna.
“S-sorry” stammered Donna. “I… I just froze.”
“It’s fine,” reassured Jane. “No one becomes a survival expert overnight. You’re still here, that’s the main thing.”
“Okay, I have a few questions,” interjected Eric. “Who was that and why were they shooting at us?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Was that military?”
Jane cocked an eyebrow. “Why would the military be firing on us?”
Eric shrugged. “Picking off the weak and vulnerable so that there’s more for them? Orders from above?”
Jane scoffed. “Please, you’re not one of those obsessives who spends their days going through online forums checking for the latest conspiracy theories, are you?”
“Well, who else is it going to be?”
“I don’t know. But I know it isn’t the military. Firstly, they’re not going to fire on civilians for no reason. Secondly, those were intimidation shots. They wanted us to know they could have killed us. If the military wanted to pump us full of lead, they wouldn’t dick around with shoulder shots.”
Eric couldn’t argue with that, given his own lack of expertise. “So, what do we do now?”
“Well, I don’t know about you, but my blood sugar needs catering to,” said Jane, unwrapping a chocolate candy bar, breaking it up and passing a piece each to Donna and Eric. “Maybe you can go through that footage of yours. See if there’s anything else we can find out about this shitstorm.”
Eric took out his camera and started going through the video. Donna walked over tentatively, like a visitor at the zoo daring themselves to get close to a sleeping lion. “Eric? About your friend. I’m …”
“Look,” snapped Eric. “At the end of the day, it was probably the right decision. And maybe, one day, I’ll see the same point of view as you and Commando Jane. But right now, my best friend is missing, and I have no idea where he is. I’m just hoping he wasn’t caught in gunfire too. It’s the not knowing that gets to me. I hate it not knowing where Leo is, I hate not knowing who just tried to turn me into swiss cheese. And I hate not knowing what caused this fucking storm.”
CHAPTER 8 – SAFE HAVEN?
It hadn’t taken the figure long to procure the weapons. He was lucky that he was in a position where he could come by them so quickly. Especially considering e
verything happening with the storm.
The figure surveyed the street below. No other signs of life. Perhaps the gunfire had scared them off.
In hindsight, opening fire on the cop probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do. But he’d needed to let off some steam. Just the sight of the uniform was enough to make his blood boil. He waited on the rooftops for another five minutes, looking for any further signs of life attracted by the shots and then he made his way down to the street.
He hadn’t made up his mind yet where he would go or what he would do.
One thing was already clear; he would be keeping a very close eye on those three.
He had been curious as to what would happen when he shot the corpse. And now, he noticed something peculiar happening with one of the bodies he had shot and walked over to it, with a mix of apprehension and fascination.
*
Donna had finally managed to come down from her panic attack while Eric checked over the video footage. Jane slumped against a car door, wincing as she allowed herself to slide to the floor. The day had literally hacked away at her. Jane wondered if she was going to sustain any more injuries before the sun went down.
Donna wondered about her family and friends, whether any of them had managed to survive the storm. It was the first time Donna had stopped to think about family and she tried to remember the last thing she said to them. She couldn’t remember off the top of her head, but she was fairly certain it was about a disappointment to go with all the other family disappointments. Donna hoped that she would have the chance to take it back.
Eric looked over the footage, making a mental note of everything he saw. He tried to think of the events of today in the long term, asking himself questions such as ‘how long until everything goes back to normal?’. Then it occurred to him that perhaps it never would. Maybe what had transpired today was going to be the new normal. He wondered whether Los Angeles was the only city that had taken the full force of the sandstorm. What about the rest of the world? Had the entire planet been dramatically re-shaped? Whatever the extent, Eric knew that people would have to adapt in order to survive. And assuming he managed to get his head around needing to just survive, he wondered what part he’d be playing in the new world. Or more specifically, whether the new world would have a part for him to play.