Vaporized

by Simon Rosser

  As she thought about her plans for the weekend, her eyelids became heavy and she drifted off to sleep.

  Amber awoke with a jump. She glanced over at her alarm clock, the red LED digits displayed the time; 03.45. Have I had another bad dream?

  She remained lying down, looking at the ceiling for a few moments, processing her thoughts from earlier on in the night. She’d been out with her friends, eaten at Oblix, all fine. No nightmares.

  She then realised she was incredibly thirsty. She reluctantly pulled the bedclothes back and wandered into the kitchen for some water. She checked the fridge and remembered drinking the last of the mineral water earlier. The tap water in London tasted disgusting, so she headed for the panic room, which her uncle used as a makeshift storeroom, to retrieve a couple of bottles of Evian from the two large pallets stored there.

  She pressed the code into the entry keypad, set into the lounge wall, and the secure door whooshed open. The impenetrable room had been designed and constructed between the main hall and kitchen, with the door leading off from the lounge wall.

  As she stepped into the room, from the corner of her eye, she noticed a blue flash from outside, which lit up the slatted blinds on the lounge window. Was that lightning?

  She headed over to the far corner of the small room, where the pallets of Evian were stacked, and tried to push her right thumb through the thick plastic covering to pull a bottle out. As she did, the nail on her thumb bent back and split. “Shit!” she cursed, placing the injured thumb into her mouth.

  She finally broke through the tough plastic covering and pulled out two bottles of water. The process must have taken her at least five minutes. Annoyed with herself, for not restocking the fridge earlier, she wandered sleepily back into the kitchen and poured out a large glass of water and placed the two bottles of Evian into the fridge, then headed back to bed.

  Amber climbed back into bed, pulled the quilt over herself, and tried to get back to sleep. Ten minutes later, she still felt restless and checked the time again. The red digits were still displaying 03.48. She stared at the clock, slightly confused, recalling it had been 03.45 when she woken up, but that had to be at least thirty minutes ago.

  She reached for her Tag watch which was on the bedside table and saw that it also read 03:48. That is strange, she thought, wondering if the lightning earlier could have affected the time pieces. She listened for any thunder, but all seemed quiet outside and then, as she turned to lie on her side, she thought she heard some distant rumbling. The low rumble sounded oddly more like an explosion than thunder, however.

  Amber’s head started to pound, as if a hangover had suddenly kicked in from nowhere. She’d never experienced such a sudden onset of a headache before. She also felt incredibly thirsty. She reluctantly got back out of bed and headed to the bathroom, to grab some painkillers. As she opened the bathroom cabinet, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. “Jesus,” she said, in shock. Blood was seeping from both of her nostrils.

  She splashed some water onto her face and patted her face dry with a towel. She then pulled some loo paper from the roll and held it under her nose; whilst she pinched her nostrils just below the bony ridge and held her head forward at a slight angle, for a few minutes. She had difficulty recalling the last time her nose had bled, and wondered if it was from a change in atmospheric pressure, because of the storm. She’d heard that such a thing could cause headaches and possibly nose bleeds.

  Her thumb was sore too, so, after she was sure her nose wasn’t bleeding anymore, she pulled a plaster from the small box in the cabinet and secured it over her broken thumb nail.

  With her head still thumping, she went into the kitchen for some more water, and drank a glass-full, along with two Paracetamol tablets. She then headed back to bed. As she passed the lounge window, with her eyes half closed, she pulled the blinds down and glanced out. A very odd scene greeted her. The bridge still had quite a bit of traffic on it, which was very odd for this time of the morning. Even more strange, the traffic was stationary. She focused her gaze on the front of the line of traffic and could see that a car on the far side of the river had veered to the right and gone into the central barrier. That’s what must have been causing the jam, but she couldn’t see any ambulances, or even people for that matter. “Jesus,” she whispered.

  An odd bluish light, flickering in the sky above, then caught her attention. She assumed it must be distant lightning, many miles away, but there was no thunder. It reminded her of the pictures she’d seen of the Arctic’s Aurora Borealis, or Northern Lights, as they were more commonly called. She’d never seen anything like it before over the city and it looked beautiful.

  She stared at the sky for another forty seconds or so, and then looked down at the stationary traffic, but her head started thumping again and her eyes became very sore. She sighed and headed back to bed, pulling the covers tightly over herself.

  After another fifteen minutes, or so, the painkilling tablets slowly took effect and her headache subsided. Her nose bleed also seemed to have stopped. Feeling drained and exhausted, she closed her eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep.

  CHAPTER 6

  Post Event – Day 1

  AMBER AWOKE AND slowly opened her eyes, and for a moment, couldn’t recall what day it was. She breathed a sigh of relief as she realised it was Saturday morning, the Saturday of a long Bank Holiday weekend. Her lips briefly formed a smile at the pleasant thought.

  The first thing she noticed was the lack of sunlight filtering through the blinds. It must be a pretty dull and gloomy day, she surmised. Never mind, it was her intention to spend most of the day exercising in the complex’s gym, and taking advantage of the pool and sauna.

  She yawned and checked the time. The radio alarm clock was still showing 03.48. She let her eyes close again, recalling the night’s events – the blue light, terrible headache and bleeding nose. She instinctively raised her right hand to her nostrils, relieved to find that they felt dry, with no sign of dried blood anywhere.

  Suddenly her radio came on and blasted out static. She jumped and slammed her hand down on the snooze button.

  Odd, it should be set to Radio 2. The radio must be broken, she thought.

  She rolled out of bed and pulled the blinds up and looked through the window, over a grey and gloomy scene. The Thames looked black, the traffic on the bridge stationary; pretty much usual for a Saturday morning. She headed into the kitchen, figuring the time must be around 8 a.m.

  “Strange,” she muttered, as she walked into the kitchen and saw that the time on the oven clock had also frozen; at 03.48. She wondered what kind of storm had the power to knock out all the clocks.

  She plugged the kettle in and turned it on, thankfully it still worked, and opened the fridge to get the milk and butter. The internal light didn’t come on as normal, and then she noticed the fridge was no longer making its usual quiet humming sound. She guessed a fuse must have blown.

  She wasn’t a D.I.Y enthusiast, but she could certainly change a fuse, thanks to her dad showing her when she was barely 7 years old. “You never know when you might need to do this,” he’d told her.

  She smiled at the memory, and opened the small bottom utility draw situated in the far corner of the kitchen, and searched for a Philip’s head screwdriver. She found what she was looking for, together with a small cellophane bag containing four 13 amp fuses. She tore open the packet, walked back to the mains fuse box by the entrance and checked the fuses. All the switches were in their usual ON positions, so she went back to the kitchen and pulled the fridge away from the wall, pulled the plug from the electrical socket, and set about unscrewing the screws that held the plug together.

  She levered the old fuse out with the screwdriver and replaced it with a fresh one, before putting the plug back together and slotting it into the wall socket. She flicked the switch down. “Bingo!” she said, as the appliance juddered back to life. “Thank you, Dad,” she whispered, as she set about m
aking some coffee and toast for breakfast.

  She took her breakfast over to the small kitchen table and hit the play button on the CD player. James Blunt’s latest album, Moon Landing, started playing, and the melody Bonfire Heart, drifted out of the mini-speakers. She listened to it, whilst finishing her breakfast of coffee, toast and orange juice.

  Amber washed up her plate, glass and cup and headed into the bedroom, to change into her gym gear. She pulled her blue cotton shorts and white T-shirt out from the drawer and locating her trainers under the bed, she pulled them on. As she was tying the laces, she remembered there was a small clock on the rear of the panic room’s steel, or whatever the thing was made from, wall, and wondered if it had also been affected by the storm.

  Back in the lounge, she entered the code into the keypad and the secure room’s door slid open. The clock was on the rear wall, currently hidden behind stacks of tinned food, flour, water and sugar, her uncle had stored in there. She pulled away a 24-pack of shrink-wrapped baked beans, just enough to see the small round clock fitted to the wall – it was still working, and revealed the time to be 09.20.

  She breathed a sigh of relief at finding one working clock, but wondered what had made the other clocks stop at the same time. She exited the panic room and then grabbed a towel and swimming costume from the bathroom, and her bottle of water, and left the apartment for the complex’s gym area, situated in the basement.

  Amber headed to the elevator, located at the end of the corridor, her trainers sinking into the carpeted surface. That’s odd, she thought, as she reached the main hallway where the elevators were located. There was an area, set back from the hall with large frosted glass, atrium style, windows, which housed an array of potted plants, yucca trees and other large plants. But all of them were completely dead. Their huge leaves, shiny and green yesterday, were now non-existent, and the stems or trunks of the plants, were a brown/black colour, and only about ten per cent of their former size.

  “What the hell happened to you guys?” Amber said, as she studied the mystifying scene. It was as if all the plants had been put through some kind of super-heating process. The odd thing was that none of the pots, or the surroundings, were burnt or singed. Very weird, she thought; as the elevator door pinged open.

  She rode down to the basement level, where the gym, pool, and sauna were located, and stepped out into the corridor. The gym was off to the left, the pool and sauna to the right. Both fire doors to the complex were closed, and everywhere seemed oddly quiet, but she could see through the small square, wire-glass, panes that both areas had their lights on.

  She walked through the door into the gym, still pondering over the plants upstairs. The apartment’s gym was about the size of a tennis court and rectangular in shape. Three of its walls were painted beige and adorned with framed pictures of various anatomical sketches, and workout routines, for different muscle groups. The far end of the room was overlooked by a large square, frosted-glass, roof light, which let natural light in from the ground level above.

  The fluorescent lights were on, emitting an audible hum, but she noticed that none of the wall-mounted plasma T.V’s were running, which was a little odd as they were usually switched to one of the many music video channels.

  Amber walked over to one of the blue gym mats, against the far wall, and started her warm-up routine. After doing a series of sit-ups and leg raises, she started on the running machine, jogging for twenty minutes or so. She trained for another hour, focussing on working on her biceps, triceps and back muscles; nothing too heavy, mainly reps for stamina and fitness.

  She noticed the clock on the wall had also stopped at 03.48, but she figured she’d trained for at least ninety minutes. She went over to the corner to grab her towel and bottle of water when she noticed something curious. Her bottle of water was now half empty, but she thought she’d only had one small sip at the start of her workout. She checked the plastic bottle for a leak, but couldn’t find one.

  How weird. She took a drink of what was left and headed for the door.

  She walked through the door that led to the pool and sauna complex, expecting to see at least a few of the apartment block’s residents using the facilities, but to her surprise the complex was empty. She headed for the changing rooms and stopped dead, as she noticed the plants in the corner of the reception area, where the comfy sofas and coffee table was located, had also shrivelled and blackened, like they’d been burnt.

  She walked over to what was left of two ferns and a yucca and cautiously inspected what was left of them. Most of the plant’s trunks appeared to have been scorched, and were only a fraction of their normal girth, and the fronds and leaves of the plants were non-existent. Small strips of dust lying on the tiled floor, near the ceramic pots the plants had been in, appeared to be all that was left of them. Amber shook her head. “This is freaking weird,” she said, quietly, almost under her breath.

  There was no one around to ask about the dried and burnt plants, so she headed into the changing room to put her swimming costume on.

  Amber, now feeling a little unnerved about all the dead plants, emerged from the changing rooms and passed the sauna on her way out into the pool area. A couple of lounge chairs, complete with small tables and magazines, were arranged in one corner. The first odd thing she noticed was that the swimming pool wasn’t as full as normal; its level was about two feet below the top strip of blue tiles, which adorned the edge of the pool. She wondered if the pool was in the middle of being cleaned, but there were no notices up, or indeed any signs of cleaning activity going on. She stepped to the top of the steps leading into the deep end, and launched herself into the cool, refreshing water.

  Amber began swimming the length of the twenty-metre pool, completing six lengths before stopping to take a rest. The chlorine wasn’t normally too bad in the pool and she’d never needed to use goggles, but her eyes were stinging more than normal, and she had to squeeze the water from them with the palms of her hands. She realised she’d been in the sports complex now for almost two hours and she hadn’t seen a soul, not that many people used the facilities on the weekend, but it was really strange to not see anyone else around.

  She launched off from the pool edge and proceeded to freestyle crawl up the length of the pool. She reached the end, turned and headed back to the shallow end. She did this twice more before feeling out of breath. She stopped again, sucking in air, whilst holding onto the chrome ladder. As her heart rate settled to a normal level, she realised that the level of the water had continued to drop, by at least another foot, perhaps two. As she looked around her, she saw something very bizarre happening at the other end of the pool and had to wipe the water from her eyes, to make sure she wasn’t seeing things.

  She swam very cautiously towards the deep end to investigate, and as she got closer, she could barely believe her eyes. “What the hell?” she muttered out loud.

  Goosebumps spread over her body as she looked at what appeared to be a small column of water, rising from the surface of the pool, then snaking across the tiled pool surround area, before moving up the wall, across the ceiling, avoiding the strip lighting and somehow avoiding gravity, and then exiting through one of the roof vents. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” Amber said, as she stood in the deep end, the water now just coming to her navel.

  She stared at the scene in front of her, which looked like a special effect from a science fiction movie. She just couldn’t fathom out what was going on, or what could be causing the water to behave in such a way. She leant forward and placed her finger in the rising column of water to see if she could disrupt the flow. It felt the same as placing your hand under a tap that was running in slow motion. The water continued on its course, splitting around her fingers, before continuing up towards the tiled pool surround.

  Amber, feeling completely freaked out, heaved herself out of the pool and ran for the changing room, almost slipping on the tiled floor as she did.

  She grabbed her belongin
gs and her towel, wrapped it around her, and ran out into the corridor and into the elevator. She pressed the button for the ground floor to find Bernie and tell him what she’d seen. She wanted to find out if he had any idea what the hell was going on.

  The elevator doors slid open and Amber stepped out and shouted out Bernie’s name. She reached the reception area, but Bernie was nowhere to be seen. She could see that the monitors were still on, showing images of the gym, pool and corridor areas. The Sun Newspaper - Bernie had been reading the evening before, was open on his chair, but there was no sign of the security guard. Where the hell was he?

  She glanced out through the glass front entrance doors into the empty London streets beyond. There was nobody around and no sign of rain, but she couldn’t understand why there wasn’t any sign of anyone out and about on a Bank Holiday Saturday morning! It didn’t make sense. They couldn’t all be staying inside.

  Amber shivered, as she stood there in nothing but her bathing costume and towel. She ran back into the elevator and hit the button for the sixth floor.

  Back in the apartment, she dried off and pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Although it was still dark and grey outside, it felt incredibly muggy, almost as if another storm was on its way.

  The weird things she’d observed today; the plants, the water in the pool, combined with the events of yesterday, were sending her into a mild paranoid tailspin. She grabbed the remote for the TV and turned it on, whilst opening the blinds in the lounge. Before she had a chance to study the gloomy view outside, the plasma TV glowed white briefly, before the picture materialised into snowy fuzz. “Oh, great,” she said, flicking up through the terrestrial channels on the remote, which all displayed the same fuzzy picture.