by Hall, Andrew
‘Look, I’m sick of wondering about this,’ said Alex. Pausing, thinking. Chewing over the words in his head. Running through the consequences if he was wrong. Best to just come out and say it. He sighed. ‘…Is there someone else?’ Lindsey felt a hot heavy rush at the question, like her blood had turned to molten lead. Her stomach twisted. She couldn’t find the words. Just what was her thing with Mike, anyway? Was he going to be ok with her moving in? Or was she just a toy to him? She lost track of time in her silence. Trying to work out an answer. Why not just tell him?
‘Lindsey. Answer me,’ Alex demanded, fixing her with a stare.
‘Yeah,’ she blurted out. She hadn’t even thought this through.
‘Yeah what?’ said Alex.
‘I’ve met someone,’ she replied, looking down at the table. Alex laughed, incredulous.
‘You’ve been cheating on me?’ he said, smiling in disbelief. She’d never seen him stare like this before. Intense. She couldn’t look him in the eye. She moved her finger through spilled sugar on the table top; coarse grains that tumbled under her touch.
‘Yes,’ she said quietly. Alex said nothing; he just stared. ‘I met him at the party,’ Lindsey added.
‘I don’t want to know where you met him,’ Alex scoffed, sipping his coffee. ‘I don’t care.’ Lindsey had expected a shouting match. Alex was good at those. But this new indifference… she didn’t know how to react. By reflex she looked down at her phone. Alex grabbed it out of her hands and smashed the screen against the table corner. Lindsey jumped, watched him cautiously. People were staring.
‘How about a real conversation?’ he suggested, smiling at her. ‘You know, where you’re not looking at this fucking thing?’ Alex dropped the shattered phone into Lindsey’s drink and sat back, savouring the look on her face. She stared at the corpse of her phone.
‘Look at me,’ he said quietly. Lindsey hesitated, opened her mouth to speak. This was a new side to him.
‘I think…’ Lindsey began. ‘I think –
‘No, you don’t,’ Alex cut in, grinning. ‘You just spread your legs.’ He sipped his coffee. The lights went out, and the music stopped. Alex didn’t even get to see the look on her face, it was so dark in here suddenly. There was a car crash outside the window, a shrill sudden bang. Screeching brakes. More cars smashed together behind it, all the way up the street.
‘What the hell?’ Alex mumbled. Lindsey’s mind strayed from what she was about to yell at him; there was suddenly a lot of shouting and screaming outside. People got up from their tables and wandered outside. Lindsey and Alex watched by the window. A couple of women on the street were helping an old man from his car; blood ran from his forehead. Pale with shock, he stared wide-eyed as they sat him down on the kerb. The cups and cafe windows rattled at a distant explosion, and suddenly the street erupted into screams and shouts.
‘What’s going on?’ said the man at the table beside them. Alex could only shrug and shake his head. It was gloomy inside the cafe, with only the sunlight through the windows to see by. Everyone was asking the same things; no one knew the answers.
‘Hey, this lady needs an ambulance!’ said a big man at the door. He was pointing outside, where a woman sat bleeding in the ruin of her car.
‘What happened?’ said the waitress behind the counter, shrill-voiced, reaching for the phone.
‘She doesn’t know,’ the big man replied. ‘Says her car just cut out and she couldn’t control it. Everyone’s saying the same thing.’
‘The phone’s not working,’ the waitress replied, looking lost. The man at the door cursed.
‘Well, can everyone stop just sitting there and come help?’ he said, looking around at the diners. ‘There’s crashes all the way up the street!’ there was a sudden tremor and another distant explosion, and the echoing sound of screams down the road. Alex and Lindsey heard a man shout for everyone to stay indoors.
‘There’s no sirens,’ said Lindsey as they got up. Suddenly the dark cafe was getting more and more crowded as people rushed inside for shelter.
‘What’s going on?’ Alex asked a woman who’d come inside, pressed beside their table with the sudden crowd.
‘I don’t know,’ she replied simply, shaking her head in shock. ‘There’s a big dustcloud, like a bomb. Heard this guy say a plane had come down.’
‘A plane?’ said the man at the table beside them, standing up from his seat.
‘I heard that too,’ another lady chipped in, budging over towards them. The chattering crowd from the street swelled behind her into the cafe. Another explosion shook the walls; this time much closer. Some of the windows cracked in sharp icy splits. The noise outside was unmistakeable; panic.
‘We need to get out and help!’ said Alex, trying to push at the mass of people. After a brief confused silence outside the streets filled with running crowds.
‘We need to get out there!’ Alex insisted, stuck against the chattering mob inside.
‘When there’s planes coming down?’ said Lindsey, grabbing his arm. There was a deep whirring noise then, louder and louder. The whole street erupted into yells and terrified screams. A helicopter ploughed down into crashed cars outside and burst into flames, a deafening glimpse of hell. The cafe windows blew and rained glass down inside. The terrified crowd was ducking and shouting. Alex tried to get out from behind the table. He felt Lindsey’s hand holding onto his arm. He looked into her frightened eyes, gripped her hand, and pulled it away.
‘What the hell’s going on!?’ the waitress screeched, stuck behind the counter in the yelling press of people. There was a man praying somewhere in the crowd. Everyone screamed and yelled again as the cafe floor shook beneath their feet. Dust tumbled down from the ceiling, peppering their heads. Suddenly the place filled with more screaming people, a panicked crush of pedestrians fleeing the carnage outside. All chattering about the same thing – that the power was out. That their phones didn’t work, and the city had ground to a halt. That there were planes falling from the sky.
‘Alex? Alex!’ a man yelled from the door. The cafe was rammed; there was no way for him to push through. Alex looked over the mass of people to see his brother David, stuck in the crowd at the door.
‘We have to get out of here, come on!’ David yelled over the screams and shouts.
‘I’m climbing out of the window, get back outside!’ Alex called back, pointing at the shattered frame. David fought his way back out through the crowd to meet his brother on the street, as Alex climbed carefully over the shards in the broken window. The smell of smoke filled the air.
‘Lindsey, give me your hand!’ said David, reaching into the cafe window over the shattered glass. Lindsey reached over and took David’s hands, and stepped cautiously over the broken glass in the window frame.
‘Where do we go now?’ said Lindsey, terrified.
‘Go wherever you want to,’ Alex replied with a shrug.
‘You’re just going to leave me here?’ she said.
‘Yeah, I am!’ he yelled.
‘Guys, can we not do this right now?’ David chipped in.
‘She’s been cheating on me,’ Alex told him. David looked at Lindsey. She looked away down the street. He thought better of saying what he was about to say.
‘Everyone, get out of there!’ said Alex, beckoning the cafe crowd onto the street. Frightened faces turned to him from inside, watching through broken windows. ‘This building’s going to collapse if a plane comes down! Get outside!’
‘We need to stay in here!’ a man called out over the chatter. ‘It’s safer in here!’ Alex didn’t have time for a debate. They’d be safer if they were all moving.
‘What the hell are you doing? We have to get out of here!’ he yelled back at the crowd. There was a sound then like nothing they’d ever heard before. A feeling pounded in their chests; an uneasy vibration like bass in an over-loud nightclub. The sound seemed to come from miles away and overhead at the same time; a deep static hiss that echoed t
hrough the city. Louder than fireworks; bigger than thunder. There was a tearing noise then, a rabid digital rush, filling the city and the sky above them. The ground shook violently in a sudden earthquake.
‘David!’ said Alex, pointing off down the road. They couldn’t see what was making the noise, but they could see the fallout in the far distance. There was a dust cloud the size of mountains, a boiling grey mass, crawling up into the sky on the far side of the bridge. There was rain too; a hail of bricks and stone. Lindsey ran for the cafe door and pushed her way inside again. Alex and David ran for their lives as a car-sized chunk of concrete tumbled out of the sky. It tore through an office block across the street, sending a landslide of stone and brick dust crashing down onto the sidewalk. The streets were filled with screams against a chorus of rumbles and bangs. Stonework crashed down in the eerie silence. The air was filling with dust and smoke, and more chunks of road and building came hurtling from the sky into the street. The press of people inside the cafe watched through the shattered windows. Staring at stores and restaurants across the road, all filled with panicked faces watching the sky. Outside on the street, stray survivors limped towards doorways or lay in pools of their own blood, reaching out to no one. The rocks and concrete rained down all around them from the looming fallout in the sky, smashing car windscreens or clattering on the asphalt. A woman ran out from the Italian restaurant across the street to help an old man bleeding on the road. She sat the old man up and cried out for help. Faces watched from every window. A moment later, they both disappeared beneath a giant piece of asphalt that crashed down on the road. The ground shook at the impact, rippling the road and cracking paving slabs.
Lindsey and the crowd in the cafe stared in horror at the scene outside. A screaming boutique across the road was suddenly demolished by a falling piece of tower block, in a deafening burst of glass and stone.
‘Where’s the basement!?’ one man yelled at the cafe waitress. ‘Show me where the basement is, now!’ suddenly everyone was fixated on getting into the basement, shouting and screaming for safety. Lindsey watched people limping out from the dust cloud outside, dazed and pale. Bright red blood, garnet-stark in the daylight. Bricks still rained from the gloomy sky in a constant pounding chorus. The noisy crowd in the cafe had found the trapdoor to the basement. They quickly filled it, but more people were trying to push their way down inside to safety. There were screams of protest from below, as people crushed against each other in the pitch black cellar. Claustrophobic yells. A thundering rush drowned out their shouting then; a rumbling tide above their heads. The floors above crashed down on top of them in a dusty crush. The cafe collapsed into screaming rubble.
Alex and David were running. They had to get to their family, and get away from the city. The colossal dust cloud crept down every street, drying their mouths and lungs, blinding and choking them as they ran. Behind them other people edged outdoors too; calling after them in the dust and silence, unsure whether to stay or go. It was like running through fog, and all the while the hail of rocks and grit pummelled everything around them. The fallout cloud above them only grew bigger, rolling over the sky to block out the sun. Abandoned cars and dust-pale bodies appeared through the choking mist. A grimy film of dirt coated everything. It powdered the sidewalk thickly under their feet, like fake snow on a hot dead Christmas. Buildings toppled around them and people screamed for help, but the brothers didn’t stop running. When entire walls were sailing through the sky from across the river and crashing down in the streets, all they could think was run. They’d always managed to keep perfect pace when they were younger, but David had let himself go. He was starting to lag behind.
‘Down here!’ Alex shouted, taking a side street where the dust cloud wasn’t so thick. David stumbled and retched on the road, but Alex was there to pull him up and drag him on. The city sounded like a warzone around them, all echoing cracks and booms. A rock crashed down onto a dumpster on their left, cratering the lid. Alex watched his feet running but didn’t feel like he was there. He felt his heart racing, but he wasn’t sure if he was still attached to it. Everything was dizzy and spinning in the shock. His brother’s voice was right next to him, but far away. All he felt were the stinging pebbles that struck his skin, raining down on them after another massive, static hiss. All he knew was that they were running. Running from a volcanic cloud that was twice as big now, filling the sky. When they reached the far end of the side street onto another block, David grabbed Alex’s arm. Begging for a moment to stop and catch his breath.
‘Jesus Christ,’ David panted, gasping for air. He felt like passing out. They stared down the road at the ruined city beyond the river; everything burning and collapsing. Through the huge gloomy cloud of the fallout, there was a dark shape moving in the sky. A black monstrous mass of tentacles that loomed over the city, only hinted at through the dust cloud. A twisting tower of light spewed out from its belly, toppling skyscrapers in a thundering rush. Churning more of the city up into the sky. Alex opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t find the words. The blond brothers could only look from the ship to one another, silent in disbelief. Something exploded behind them, throwing them into the air. David watched the world spin around him, as if in slow motion, and the road came up to slam him in the face. All he heard was the ringing in his ears, high and endless. Senseless, he lay there staring at the dust cloud in the sky, vast and tumbling, like a volcano had blown. Nothing mattered for a little while, and he closed his eyes... Then he remembered that he wasn’t waking from a dream. He was lying on the road at the end of the world. He had to get back to Helena and the kids. That was all that mattered. He looked around desperately for his brother, ears still ringing. The street was a silent grey fog, tilting and shaking as he looked around at it.
‘Alex?’ he called out. His voice echoed down the empty street, into the creeping wall of dust.
‘I’m here,’ came his brother’s muffled voice behind him. Alex helped him back to his feet. David staggered. Blinking and dust-pale, he realised that he couldn’t see from his right eye. Alex held him strongly by the shoulders, staring at him in shock. His brother’s face was inches from his own, but he could hardly see him in the ashen gloom.
‘Are you ok?’ David slurred, with the taste of metal in his mouth. As he wiped his chin he realised his arm was blackened and soaked in blood. He tried to put some weight on his right leg and screamed.
‘Take it easy. I’ve got you,’ Alex said gently. He helped David into the passenger side of a car close by. Alex turned the key in the ignition, but there was no sound. He cursed, slamming the steering wheel.
‘Nothing’s working!’ he yelled, trying his phone. He got back out and helped David to his feet. Alex tried not to look at the gaping hole in his brother’s stomach.
‘I’m getting you to the hospital,’ said Alex.
‘If it’s still there,’ David mumbled, smiling. He was still smiling when he collapsed on the road, staring shell-shocked at the sky. Alex had to catch him and lie him down, just to stop him hitting the road hard.
‘Here, hold this on your stomach to stop the bleeding,’ said Alex, wriggling out of his jacket. ‘Hold it as tight as you can.’ He pressed his bunched-up coat against the hole in David’s stomach, but his brother couldn’t lift his arms to hold on to it. David’s blood was puddling around them on the road, stark red against the pale snowy dust.
‘Hold it on there,’ Alex insisted, wiping a tear quickly off his face. He looked into his brother’s eyes. ‘Hold it on.’
‘I love you, man,’ David whispered, as the sky and the city and his brother faded to black.
‘David?’ Alex said quietly, watching his brother’s lifeless face. ‘David!’ Alex could only stare in shock, holding his brother’s cold limp hand. David’s dead eyes stared up at the vanishing sun. Overhead a vast black shape crawled through the sky.
4
Blinking, Tabitha came around on the carpet. She’d been having the longest dreams, and
so vivid too. Of spidery silver legs in the dark, reaching out towards her. Of a pain so fierce, she’d thought her heart was about to burst through her chest. It took a while to get the feeling back in her limbs.
‘Oh, shit,’ she croaked drowsily, realising with utter shame that she’d soiled herself. She sat up and squinted at the hallway around her. Dry mouth; morning breath. Why did she have a hangover?
‘Ok… what just happened?’ she asked the empty house, gasping for a drink. She’d never felt so desperately thirsty; so utterly disgusting.
Half-blind she staggered upstairs to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet. It wouldn’t flush properly. The sink tap just choked when she turned it, and shuddered the pipes. There was nothing but a dribble of brown sludge spluttering out; the same from the shower too. Cursing, she pulled off her sodden clothes. She unwrapped the bandage around her thigh, peeling dry like ancient paper; crusted with silver. The square grey veins had disappeared; there was only a pock mark left where the needle had punctured her skin. Shuffling out again, she fetched a big bottle of water from the kitchen to wash herself off in the bathtub. The clean frothy perfume of soap had never smelled so good; she still couldn’t believe that she’d crapped herself. Her body felt numb as she towelled down and brushed her teeth. The bathroom was still a blur in the white daylight; glowing smudges and dancing shadows. As her vision slowly came back into focus, she stared at her hands. She wiggled her fingers, turned her palms up. She raised her hands up at the window, just to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. Her hands were grey. They were grey metal. Dull, matte, rubbery metal. The grey faded back to her own skin tone at the wrists, as if her hands had been spray-painted. Like she was wearing painted-on gloves. She tried to grip the grey coating and peel it off, but there wasn’t a join. She scratched at the armoured skin but felt nothing. She could still feel her grey fingertips scratching at her wrists, at least. But clapping her hands, and pinching them, and punching them, even banging them down on the sink to hurt them… no sensation at all. She had, however, sent a crack right through the heavy sink. Another whack, and the sink shattered with a gurgling spurt of gunge from the pipes. She’d barely shifted her feet back in time to avoid broken toes. Tabitha looked at her hands; looked around at the bathroom to see if she was still dreaming.