Days' End

by Scott L Collins

  Jacqueline and Nysa bounced around the room like little girls who have just been given a pony. There were squeals and laughter, tears and hugging. The doctor merely stood quietly until they brought themselves under control and sat down for the rest of the evaluation. The baby was developing very well. He was just over three inches long, his red blood cell count was good, and he seemed to be fairly active for his age. They did another ultrasound and the doctor handed over the most recent picture. Looking at the photo that the doctor had taken, they caught another case of the giggles when Nysa pointed out it looked like the baby was signaling a successful field goal.

  August 20,

  Outside Castle Rock, CO

  The excitement around the facility continued to spread as Jacqueline started to grow out of her regular outfits. Jacqueline was especially excited as she had been provided with an entirely new wardrobe to accommodate her growing belly. She had so many new outfits she didn’t think she’d get a chance to wear them all. As she outgrew certain sizes, she packed away the too-small pieces in the hopes of taking them home with her and donating the almost-new maternity clothing to a battered women’s shelter near her house. She figured it was the least she could do. Her entire pregnancy, delivery, and future life were being funded by someone else, as best she could tell. This way she could share the wealth a little.

  Her checkup went well. The baby was now about five inches long and weighed approximately five ounces, according to the doctor. The baby happened to be quite active during the appointment, giving the doctor fits as he tried to obtain adequate ultrasound images during his examination. Nysa sat close by, seemingly captivated by the obstetrician’s every word. When it came time to listen to the heartbeat, both Jacqueline and Nysa cried softly. Jacqueline’s heart almost burst with love for this tiny life. The heartbeat was fast and regular, more of a swishing sound than the traditional thump-thump. The doctor explained to Jacqueline that what they were hearing was entirely normal, and that he was encouraged by the strength of both the heartbeat and the baby’s movements. Jacqueline and Nysa left the room giddy with joy.

  August 27, Los Angeles, CA

  “How’s life treating you, old man?” Alastair joked when he heard the phone picked up.

  “Not well, Alastair. It’s the dawning of revelations.”

  “What?” Alastair was shocked at his father’s remark. He had always been religious, but this was too much.

  “The End of Days. The seals are being broken, the trumpets sounded.”

  “That’s a bit melodramatic, don’t you think? You sound like you should be out on the street, standing on a soapbox with a microphone.”

  “I didn’t see it either until recently. Now it all makes sense. Have you seen the name given to the meteorite by the Chinese?”

  “No,” replied Alastair. “And I really don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

  “Wormwood. That’s a loose translation, but it’s Wormwood. It’s the third trumpet. A meteor called Wormwood. ‘And the third angel sounded, and a great star fell from heaven, burning like a torch, and it fell on a third of the rivers and on the springs of waters; and the name of the star is called Wormwood; and a third of the waters became wormwood; and many men died from the waters, because they were made bitter.’ That’s Revelations, chapter 8, verses ten and eleven.”

  “So they called it Wormwood. Why does that mean the world is coming to an end? As far as I can tell the waters are fine. I’m having a glass right now,” Alastair teased. “Besides, I heard it hit a city called Harbin.”

  “That’s what the reports say, and the Chinese government isn’t saying much else. But the other signs are there, too. The first trumpet, fire. We had those real bad fires in the southwest, Asia, and South America.”

  Alastair interrupted his father before he could really get started. “Dad, stop it. There are fires all the time. I’m not going to drop everything and run around spewing talk about the end of the world because of a couple of careless hikers dropped a cigarette, or whatever caused the fires. We don’t live in the dark ages. Get a grip. Maybe you should skip your sermons on Revelations.”

  “Believe what you will Alastair, but be ready when Judgment Day comes. It’s not far off.”

  “I don’t have time for this,” Alastair replied impatiently. “I’ve gotta go, Dad. Take a break from the Bible and go read something more light-hearted, like The Stand maybe. Bye, Dad. Talk to you soon.”

  “Suit yourself, but you should get to church regardless of whether or not you believe me.”

  Alastair hung up the phone and stood staring at it. His dad had lost it. He’d obviously spent too much time preparing for his sermons on Revelations and was now reading the Apocalypse into everything going on around him. Even though he didn’t buy into what his father was trying to tell him, the conversation nagged at him. Did his father believe that the Bible was to be taken literally? There was surely some imagery, and it could be interpreted differently in parts depending on who you asked.

  Alastair pushed the thoughts from his mind. He’d given up religion long ago. Now was not the time to explore his philosophical beliefs. Maybe he should fly out and visit his father, help him get a grip on reality. He’d check into that possibility later with his boss, Suzy, and see if she’d give him the time off. Until then, he would occupy his weekend with video games and old movies. He’d just picked up the newest version of “Halo” and intended to beat the game before going back to work.

  So close now. I will be able to rest soon enough, but now I must push them even harder to ensure success. Failure is not an option. I have too much invested in this now. I have built my hopes up too high, I know, but my grandest scheme yet is so close to fruition. However, it seems as though someone is working against me. Who could know the true actual intent of my project? Nobody has been made aware of the true nature of my plan. There are far too many accidents occurring for me to pass them off as mere coincidences. I must put my security team on heightened alert for any suspicious behavior. I cannot allow anyone to derail my plans when I am so close to the end.

  September 3, Los Angeles, CA

  Alastair hummed to himself as he walked down the hall to Suzy’s office. He knocked lightly, opened the door, and poked his head in. Suzy was sitting stiffly at her desk, a crease between her brows from either concentration or frustration; Alastair couldn’t tell which.

  “Good morning, Suzy. I was wondering if I could pester you for a minute.”

  “Come on in, Alastair, and take a seat. How can I help you?”

  “I was wondering if I could take some vacation time in the not too distant future. I’d like to go visit my Dad. He’s been huddled up in his house by himself for too long apparently. I’d like to go drag him outside and let him get some fresh air. To be honest, I could use some myself.”

  “When were you thinking of going and for how long?” she inquired.

  Alastair frowned.

  “I just want to make sure it doesn’t conflict with some of the other vacations that have already been scheduled,” she added.

  “If there’s nothing pressing in the workload, how about I take next week off?”

  “I don’t see anything we can’t handle while you’re gone. Take it, and go get rested up. You’ve been working like a dog these past six months. I think it’s a great idea. Get some R and R. When you get back, I’ll put you back on the chain gang.” She gave him a quick wink. “Anything else?”

  “You need any help with what you’re working on there? When I came in you looked a bit tense.”

  “No, but thanks. I’m just trying to keep my eyes focused until the coffee kicks in. Late night, early morning. You know how it is.”

  “All right,” Alastair replied. “Let me know if you change your mind. Thanks, Suzy.” He left her office and strolled back to his computer to book his trip. As he was flying on short notice, the ticket to Houston cost him an arm and a leg. He’d considered driving, but with the current price of gas, tha
t would have cost him both arms and both legs. He bought the ticket and reserved a car. Having completed absolutely none of his work thus far, he decided that now would be a good time to take a break and head downstairs for a cigarette.

  The week passed quickly, His time at home was spent packing and getting everything in order for his vacation. He barely had time to do all of the bills and filter through all of the junk mail that arrived on a daily basis. He didn’t mind though; the busy schedule helped keep his mind off of how much he missed Nysa. He’d already gone through half of the letters in the box she left, and he wasn’t sure he was halfway through her absence. So he immersed himself in his work and vacation preparations and by the time he was ready to leave for the airport, he had gone the whole week without opening one of her letters and was still feeling great.

  He looked forward to seeing his father. It had been a couple of years since they had last seen one another. Alastair felt guilty for not calling ahead and telling his father of his plans to come visit, but he didn’t want to have another conversation on the phone about the impending fall of man. He would deal with that issue when he arrived.

  September 10,

  Somewhere over New Mexico

  Alastair relaxed and stared out the window of the airplane. What a beautiful day, he thought. The clouds outside were large and puffy, cotton balls floating lazily across the blue sky. The land below was gorgeous, a vibrant combination of reds, browns, and greens. He leaned back in his seat, closed his eyes, and thought of how wonderful it was to be alive. He was sober, had a great job, good friends, and although he hadn’t seen or spoken to her recently, the greatest fiancée on the planet. As his mind drifted, he slowly dozed off to the low growl of the engines.

  The bump of the tires touching down in Houston woke Alastair from his nap. The good feelings he had fallen asleep with had permeated his dreams and held fast when he awoke. He felt great. He was well-rested and looking forward to a week of hanging out with his dad. Even his father’s recent behavior could not dampen his mood as he practically skipped off of the plane.

  After retrieving his luggage, Alastair headed over to the car rental booth and picked up a car. The thought of having to ask his dad to borrow the car again once he got to Grapeland had made the decision to rent an easy one. He picked up his little economy car, pulled out of the parking lot, and hit the open road. He relished the sights and sounds he had left so long ago. The quaint little ranch homes, the cows and horses, and the smell of manure made him a bit nostalgic. The drive would take him a few hours, so he settled in, found a nice country music station, and made the most of it.

  It was dusk when he arrived at his father’s ranch. The sun was setting gently behind the house as Alastair entered the unpaved driveway. He drove carefully, trying to ease the small car over the channels created by the spring rain runoff. Dust kicked up by the tires formed a small cloud that followed him up the drive to the house. The crunching of the tires on the dirt and gravel had announced his arrival. When he at last pulled up in front of the house, his father was already standing on the porch. As Alastair climbed out of the car, his father came down the steps, a smile creeping slowly across his face.

  “Bless my soul, look what the cat dragged in,” Carl said. “I thought for sure it was another one of them insurance salesmen, salespersons, whatever it is they call themselves these days. To what do I owe this honor?”

  “Good to see you, Dad. I just wanted to drop in and spend some time out of the city, visiting with my father. I don’t want to be a burden, so if I showed up at a bad time I can find a place to stay in town.”

  “Heavens, no!” his dad replied. “Now come inside before the mosquitoes eat us alive. They’re as big as Apache helicopters this time of year and are almost as deadly, West Nile virus and all. Come on, I just made a fresh pitcher of lemonade. What do you say we go in and have us a tall one?” His dad dropped him a wink.

  “On the rocks,” Alastair shot back as he grabbed his bags and followed his father into the house. It was nice that they were out of the awkward stage that had followed Alastair’s sobriety. Nobody had seemed to know quite how to act. Could they drink in front of him? When the guys went out after work for a beer, should they invite him?

  He dropped his luggage in his old bedroom, which had since been converted to the guest room. His father had done a really nice job with it. He had repainted and added new furniture when Alastair took his bed and desk to college, but he’d also left a few of Alastair’s trophies and pictures up, just to keep that feeling of family alive. Alastair smiled to himself and made his way back to the kitchen. His dad sat waiting at the table with two large glasses of lemonade, ice clinking in the bottoms.

  “So, how’s life in the big city treating you?” Carl asked as he sat down.

  “Can’t complain.” Alastair replied. “The job is going well.”

  “And what of your lovely fiancée?”

  “She’s still out doing her thing. I wish I had some idea of when she’s coming home. It’s the not knowing that’s the hardest. Even if she wasn’t coming home for three years, at least I could mark it on the calendar. Or if I could talk to her every now and then, I’d be okay with that, too. Oh well,” he sighed, “at least I know she’s safe.”

  “Safe from what?”

  “Well, the tsunami and volcanoes for starters. After I heard about the tsunami I…um…did a little investigative work to find out where she went.”

  Alastair’s dad frowned but didn’t pursue the obvious question raised by Alastair’s statement. “And where did she go?”

  “Best I can tell somewhere around Colorado Springs. That’s where her flight landed anyway. Being that it was a private jet, I don’t see any reason they would connect to anywhere from there rather then flying direct.”

  “Hmm, and during your ‘investigative work,’ did you happen to find out what the secret project is?”

  “No.” Alastair replied. “I just wanted to make sure she was safe. I did. That’s enough. Investigating isn’t my thing anymore. It was an emergency so I did what I had to do, no more.”

  “Very good.” Carl smiled. “Good to hear. What else is going on in your life? Have you been to church?”

  “Not this again, Dad. The world is not ending. It’s just a couple of fires. You sound like Chicken Little, for crying out loud.”

  “For your information, it’s much more than fires. By the way, did you hear the newest on China? Seems that the meteorite hit a chemical weapons plant just outside Harbin. Of course the Chinese are denying the existence of such a plant, but the fact remains that downriver from Harbin some very bad things have been happening. One might say the waters have turned bitter.”

  Alastair sat looking at his father. Although this was a discussion he did not wish to pursue, he could see the sincerity in his father’s eyes. “Go on,” was all he could say. What he’d actually wanted to say was something along the lines of “Let’s get this over with.”

  He could see the spark in his dad’s eyes burst into flame.

  “We’ve just about covered the third trumpet, or sign, if you want to call it that instead. So let’s go back to the first. The first trumpet is fires. ‘A third of the earth was burned up, and a third of the trees were burned up, and all the green grass was burned up.’ I don’t know how much actually burned, but do you remember the big fires we had in February?”

  “Yes,” Alastair replied warily. His eyes were drifting from his father to the clock. How much longer can he ramble on? he thought to himself.

  “Just wait, it gets better.”

  I hope so, thought Alastair, taking a sip of lemonade.

  “The second sign, and I’ll quote: ‘Something like a great mountain burning with fire was thrown into the sea; and a third of the sea became blood.’ Remind you of anything?”

  Alastair squirmed in his chair. “A great mountain burning with fire” was dangerously close to what had caused the tsunami. Alastair’s pulse quickened and his pal
ms began to sweat. He took a long drink from his glass and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

  His father continued. “We’ve already been over the third sign, the meteorite Wormwood and bitter waters. The fourth sign, according to the Bible, is that ‘a third of the sun and a third of the moon and a third of the stars were smitten, so that a third of them might be darkened and the day might not shine for a third of it, and the night the same way.’”

  “I have no idea what that’s even supposed to mean, Dad.”

  “Think back. What has happened recently that cast darkness over the earth?” His father leaned forward, watching eagerly as Alastair made the connection.

  “The double eclipse.” Alastair felt like he was going to vomit. His mouth filled with saliva and he was suddenly hot and cold at the same time. He felt his stomach clench and fought the contents of his stomach back down. Wiping the sudden sheet of sweat from his forehead, he set his glass on the table and took a deep breath. It could all be coincidence, or it could actually be the end of mankind. Much to his dismay, Alastair was now being drawn into believing it was the latter of the two.

  “The fifth sign is about locusts unleashed to torment mankind, to torture them with suffering like scorpion stings. I know it’s not spot on with the ‘skin condition’ the CDC is talking about, but it’s close enough for me.”

  Alastair reached into his pocket and took out his cigarettes. If there was one occasion when a cigarette was necessary, it was when you realize the world could be coming to an end. “Let’s step outside so I can smoke this,” Alastair told his dad as he rose from his chair and grabbed his lemonade. His dad got up and followed him out onto the porch. Alastair leaned against a post, lit his cancer stick, and looked out across the fields. His father sat behind him. Alastair took a deep drag off of his cigarette and mumbled, “I don’t know, Dad. It all seems so crazy. How could this be happening?”