by Megan Hart
A vibrating hand and a digital tri-tone echoing over and over brought Lily back as thunder rolled across the cloudless heavens. Call display told her it was Mrs. Carlito. Oh crap! Lily flicked the sound off and shoved it in her pocket where it kept vibrating.
Another boom unfurled into the air. Buildings shook. Tires screeched and horns honked. The sounds of metal against metal and tinkling glass wound through it all. A brilliant flash of light from above threw the street into stark relief. A collective hush fell across the area. People got out of their cars. Those on the sidewalk moved onto the road, strides betrayed barely checked panic. Like one entity, they looked up. Lily followed their gaze. Half fearing she’d see a plane falling from the heavens.
Instead, the sky broke.
Fissures zigzagged across the blue. In their wake, a pulsing white light spilled through. The crowd gasped, but no one moved. To Lily, it seemed too momentous, too huge a moment to process with action. Then a child giggled. The laughter radiated outward like a pebble thrown into a pond. Even Lily soundlessly joined in, her heart joyful and carefree, her troubles forgotten. Whoops and hollers threaded through the cheer. People hugged their neighbors and kissed their friends. No one questioned it. They just accepted the warm feeling of love until the road rippled.
Another tremor knocked those gathered into each other. Lily stumbled, tried to right herself as the ground heaved. It tossed her into the window of Mad Molly’s as pandemonium grabbed the horde. Screaming now, they broke and ran pell-mell, abandoning the wonder in the sky. To Lily, they resembled sparrows scattering from a hawk.
Deep rending sounds—not unlike the crack of thick lake ice on a frigid day—reverberated around the buildings. In the street, fissures opened. Darkness, infinite and difficult to gaze upon, poured out.
A shadow crossed Lily’s heart. The urge to harm every one of those cowering fuckers galvanized her nerves. An old woman turned on the young man beside her and punched him in the face. Couples grappled. The children hid. Jungle screams and guttural roars rang through the melee. Lily shook with adrenaline. Leg and arm muscles quivered as she struggled against entering the throng. Another tremor froze the tableau.
Above, the incandescence spilling from the ruptures pulsed. The black void raced up toward it and took the dark desires with it. Lily—glad to be free of its grip—traced the stygian arc barreling to meet the light. When they collided, the sonic boom blew every window inward. Power lines snapped and sparked and the power went out.
Lily found herself sprawled inside Mad Molly’s display window. Her stinging cheeks and throbbing nose confused her. Beads of tempered glass dug into her chin and the point of a rose quartz stabbed her palm. Movements sluggish, she sat up.
Again, the ground shook. A ball of fire exploded onto the pavement. The brilliance blinded her, leaving a green splotch to dance in her vision. She blinked and blinked. And when it cleared she saw the back of a naked giant man, charred wing bones jutted from shoulder blades, his robe in smoking tatters. Unable to process the implications of the Angel standing in front of her, she watched him watching the gasping slash in the asphalt.
A charred hand reached up from the crevice and gripped the edge. Another appeared. Then the top of a horned Demon’s head. Lily screamed soundlessly.
Whistling shrieks filled the air as more Angels smashed into the earth to rise and take up vigil along the rift. Another of the Angels turned her gaze at Lily. Blue light flickered in her eyes. She put a finger to rosebud lips as if to shush her then turned her attention back to the rift.
The unrattled part of her brain urged her to run. Shock and detachment kept her sitting and watching the unfolding scene like one would a movie.
One, two, three more pairs of hands appeared at the edge of the rift. Blackened, cracked monstrosities sprouted from the earth. Horns twisted in random patterns. Cracked flesh glowing orange. Dirt and pavement dripped from black talons. Lizard wings stretched and tested. The Angels and Demons stared at each other. Burnt feathers floated around them like black snowflakes.
The Angels attacked.
In retaliation, a Demon summoned a whip of fire. He snapped it and a fireball burst from the tip. It missed its mark and disappeared into the store on the other side of the street. Deafening concussions followed. The building crumpled. Glass, brick, and wood spilled onto the road as a cloud of dust bloomed and screams filled the air. Within the murk, bright blue lightning met lashes of fire.
Something landed on Lily. Her shocked, syrupy thoughts snapped into focus.
What the fuck?
She heaved it away. A burnt and twisted stroller clattered to the sidewalk. Blue snakes crackled across the plastic and smoking fabric. Oh God, oh no. Lily bit back rising bile.
Lily started to weep. She puked. Cried harder.
Another body hit the pavement, splattering her with gore. Hands shook as she wiped blood from her eyes. An ichor stained sign lay beside the broken man. The end is now. Nostrils flared, Lily scooted back. The world turned upside down.
Black dots floated across her vision as she stared at dead fluorescent lighting. The back of her head throbbed. The crack and boom of explosions muffled by ringing ears. The vibrations radiated through the hardwood floor.
The end is now.
Police sirens joined the cacophony. A female voice boomed from a bullhorn. Gunfire stuttered. Obscene howls dug into the primal part of her brain and she pissed herself.
We’re fucked.
She curled into a ball on her side, covered her head, and waited for the end.
Growling. Something—Angel or Demon—stood in front of the display window. Silhouetted by the flickering firelight outside, it was hard to tell which. Lily held her breath. The creature leaned into the store. Lily sensed the being scanning the space and, after a moment, it moved on. Then a flaming, shrieking thing hurled through the smashed window and splashed across the store. Shelves of books ignited. The flames jumped to the next aisle. And the next.
Confrontation with the very reality of her death compelled her to move. She ran toward the back of the store hoping to find the storeroom with a service entrance. Her toe caught a hard edge. She stumbled and went down on one knee. An electric jolt—prickly yet painless—spread up and down her leg. The letters glowed in the smoke. Compelled, she scooped up the heavy board and kept going. In the storeroom, she snagged a messenger bag to carry the cumbersome board and hit the exit.
Another explosion rocked the day, raining brick dust down on Lily as she careened out of the store. Lily looked from one side of the alley to the other and back again. To the left one of the fissures cracked the earth between the buildings. Right it is. Keeping her back against the brick, she slid along the side of the store. Sirens wailed above the screams and otherworldly shrieks.
Clouds of smoke and dust drifted at the mouth of the alley. The slow whoomp-whoomp-whoomp of helicopter blades echoed between the buildings. A dark shape coalesced within the smoky dust.
Lily sprinted back the way she’d come. Behind her, the whoomp turned to metal screeching across pavement. She dared a glance behind. The bent and twisted nose of the copter raced toward her. The blades snapped and scraped against the brick walls as smoke billowed from the interior. A face pressed against the bubble window mouthed a silent scream.
In front of her, the chasm loomed while behind her the chopper skidded closer. She gambled and leapt. Pelvis thrust forward and arms pin wheeling she hurled across the gap. A blast of hot air from below pushed her the last few feet. The pavement sliced furrows in her palms and tore the knees of her jeans as she landed.
Lily jumped to her feet and took off as the helicopter met the fissure. It erupted. Flaming fuel and flying metal shot past her. She kept running.
The battle’s smoke and dust obscured the sun, casting the city in false twilight. Lily stuck to the shadows as best she could. She had to get home. Home. The sound of wings beating the air whooshed over her. She ducked. It’s where the heart is. A distant e
xplosion shook the buildings. Home. She crept along. A group sprinted past, dust in their hair, blood running down pale faces. It’s where they have to take you in. In obvious pursuit, a gang dressed in leathers with Thols stitched on their backs went by. They whooped and slashed at the air with knives and baseball bats.
Across the street, another group carried as many laptops, cell phones, and tablets as they were able to out of an Apple Store. On the sidewalk, a man and woman—oblivious to the fireball racing toward them—fought over a necklace. Home. Diamonds and sapphires sparkled white and blue in the glare of an incoming ball of Demon flame. Lily turned away when the screaming began. There’s no place like it.
Lily resumed her run. A sinkhole replaced the square she’d passed not two hours ago. The enormity of knowing the world was in the midst of ending threatened to flood her brain. Her knees sagged. She could lie down and wait to die. But home called. And like an automaton, she continued on.
The dark maw of the subway entrance emerged from the smoke. Remembering the power was out she hesitated at the top of the steps. Who knew what horrors waited down there? Gunfire crackled. She didn’t move. Another Angel plunged from the rifts in the sky. She stayed put. Cracking pavement followed by clawed hands gripping the edge settled it. She raced down the stairs.
At the bottom, she turned on her cell phone’s flashlight. The dark leapt backward to reveal an empty platform. Confident she’d be able to find her way home by following the rails, she headed to the edge. Her footsteps echoed. The noises of battle grew dimmer the further in she went. She clenched her jaw—there’d better not be auxiliary power or I’m fucked—and slid off the platform.
She hit the bottom hard enough to stagger onto the center rail. No snap or smell of burning flesh. Thank God. Turning for home, she began to walk. Home.
An hour later, she emerged from the subway to find herself standing on a precipice. Hot air rose from a canyon stretching for blocks. Smoke and dust swirled in eddies on the currents. In the sky, deepest night shot with stars shone through the cracks in the blue where the smoke didn’t touch. Winged figures circled overhead like hawks hunting prey. Blue lightning flashed to burst like fireworks among the soaring Demons.
Lily turned her gaze downward. Metal, glass, drywall, and bricks dotted the sloping canyon walls. Clothing clung to girders. The body of a man lay half under a bed, another draped across the windshield of a delivery truck. Gone. All of it, just gone. Her parents, her home, everything she knew destroyed in a moment. A gust blew up from the depths. On its hot breath, the tinny sound of a lullaby.
2
October
Fire.
Smoke.
Destruction.
So much destruction.
The gutted ruin of Mad Molly’s Antiquities and Oddities looked much like the others she’d passed. A dark yawning cave framed by scorched brick walls. Despite the damage, it gave off an aura of safety. She stepped over a burned body—so commonplace it didn’t register—and stood on the threshold.
She assessed the damage. The roof hadn’t collapsed in the fire or from the battles constantly ranging from one part of the city to another. She listened. Nothing but the faint sound of explosions far off and a random scream closer by. The terror in the scream gave her the final push to get off the street and go inside.
The shattered interior smelled like ash. Half-burned tarot cards lay scattered among the wreckage. Along the west wall, the ancient cash register stood untouched by flames. The granite counter it rested on similarly spared. Lily—liking the barrier of protection it offered—went behind it and unrolled her sleeping bag. She stashed her messenger bag containing the Ouija under the counter. In the days after the world ended, she’d only tried playing with it once but the lack of a real planchette rendered the board voiceless. She sat to rest.
Since seeing the canyon that had swallowed her block, her home, her parents, she wandered without purpose. Shocked at first, then grief-stricken, then resigned. Never stopping for long. Always avoiding the battles, the Angels and Demons, and other survivors. She had no urge to interact with people. They’d become too unpredictable for her to feel the protection of numbers. Besides, with her cellphone useless she had no means to communicate. She could use pen and paper, but it seemed too much effort. Finding food and water consumed every hour, every ounce of energy.
Lily opened a can of beans and had supper by candlelight. Outside, the war raged on as it always did, far enough away she wouldn’t have to worry about finding a new place tonight. The occasional scuffle of feet went by, but Lily wasn’t concerned. No one would scavenge Mad Molly’s for food, water, or gear. She blew out the candle and climbed into the sleeping bag. Lying on her back, she gazed up at the darkened ceiling. Blue light shimmered overhead.
Oh shit.
She prayed the door in the back room wasn’t blocked in case she needed a fast escape. The light flared. She clenched her eyes, waiting for the concussion that didn’t come. Whispery breaths teased her hair, touched her face. Frightened yet curious, Lily snuck a peek.
Crystals of all shapes, sizes, and colors floated around her. Individually, they flashed—green, purple, pink, and blue-white—at random intervals. It reminded her of the fireflies of youth, of the time her family lived on a farm in the Midwest. She pushed up on her hands to get a better look at the incredible wonder happening before her. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the shimmer of Mother-of-Pearl. The Ouija sat propped against a hunk of blackened wood.
Wait? How did...
Her questions died as the iridescent letters twitched and switched places. The sun winked and the moon grinned. Numbers danced. Mesmerized, Lily watched everything swirl together in a luminescent cyclone. She didn’t wonder if she were dreaming. Angels, Demons, and the apocalypse had all bled her sense of disbelief in the intangible. A sense of calm, a sense of rightness, soothed her.
On the Ouija, shapes burbled from the twisting mass. Blue light misted around her. Within it, flashes of arms, faces, and hands. Rustling sighs and whispers. As sudden as it had begun it stopped. The Ouija became just a board again.
She crawled over to inspect the board, the crystals following. They trailed her back to the sleeping bag then grew dim and fell. She scooped them up and put them in her satchel. Running her fingertips across the lettering of the Ouija, she wondered if their movement had been a trick.
What are you?
Of course, the board didn’t answer. No matter, it soothed her to caress the letters in big sweeping loops. The board made her feel safe. She wished it would come alive again.
Patience, Lily. You’ll see.
Lily lifted her fingers. It sounded as if it had spoken, only in her head. She wet her lips.
Naw, I had to have imagined it.
She touched the obsidian but nothing spoke back.
See? My imagination.
Satisfied yet slightly disappointed, she traced a figure eight between the Yes and No. One by one the crystals made their way out of her bag to hover around her. Their soft glow cast her hands in a prism.
In a world come apart at the seams, Lily accepted this bit of magic. It was all she had left to believe in.
3
November
Lily froze. The can of Spam she’d pulled off the grocery shelf threatened to slide out of her sweaty palm. She clicked off the flashlight. She listened.
The crunch of glass under cautious steps. Shallow breaths. The rustle of clothing and shifting of bags. The wooden scrape of a baseball bat dragged along the floor.
“We know you’re here,” a male voice rang out in the store.
A female joined in, “This store belongs to the Thols and you are stealing, fuckwad.”
“You should see the last man who stole from us.”
Lily crouched and set the can in her messenger bag.
Flashlight beams crisscrossed the tops of the aisles.
She crept backward toward the cooler through which she’d entered the store. Her fo
ot hit an empty can and sent it skittering. Pulse jumping in her neck, she hit the floor and crawled for the cooler door.
“That way,” teenager voice shouted in triumph.
A shaft of light caught her. She dove into the cooler.
The footsteps pounded toward her. “Fucker jumped into one of the fridges!”
Too dark to run, too dangerous to turn on her light, Lily wormed her way toward what she hoped was the exit. Cool plastic brushed against her face. A short hot stream of urine wet her pants. It’s the exit, idiot. Relief followed fright and she parted the strip curtain then slipped though to press her back against the cooler wall.
Light played around the inside, stopped on the clear vinyl and shone through.
“She went through the curtain!”
In the illumination, Lily saw a cardboard baler. No other hiding place in sight, she climbed in and crouched. Lily wound the bag’s strap around one hand. If nothing else, the heavy Ouija inside might make a good weapon.
Plastic swished.
“Henry, you and Jessica take that end. Me and Jake will take this one. The bitch can’t have gotten far. Eric and Manny, watch the exit.”
A voice spoke in her head, They’ll rape you then kill you, you know.
Assuming the voice her own, Lily concentrated on not breathing while her heart rattled in her chest. White light shot through the seams of the satchel.
The Ouija board?
She slid the board out. The moon and sun winked at her.
A bang vibrated through the baler.
“Fuck me, I think I broke my toe,” a voice said right next to her.
The sun and moon raised their eyebrows. Beckoned her to touch them. She laid a palm on each curiously warm and supple symbol.