by Damian Foyle
A New Home
Damian Foyle
Copyright 2012 Damian Foyle
Day 1
I collapsed down to the bench with a grunt. It was old; the paint job gone long time ago, not to mention a leg and a half, the wood faded by the sun and charred by god-knows-what. It was a surprise it stood by itself at all and didn't break in half with the additional weight of my body. It would do until the strength returned to my legs and that churning feeling deep inside my gut subsided.
I rested my aching back, watched the murky waters of Bosphorus and tried to ignore the annoying voice chatting away in the communication device. On the other shore the remains of a dry cargo tanker stood. A massive skeleton of rust and metal shone under the afternoon sun. The captain had panicked and ordered full-ahead just before an RPG hit the bridge, turning it into a gory art of flesh, glass and metal. Driven by its powerful diesel engines the tanker had rammed into one of those villas adorning the shore and moved inland up to almost third of its length.
I knew the details because I was there, holding an emptied RPG and watching it all go down. Last two weeks, the ship had been scavenged thoroughly first by the military, and then the locals; its cargo was long gone, and every piece of machinery and metal sheets were dismantled, taken away. Even the propellers were gone. What little remained was the proof that this... thing went sideways faster than anyone could imagine.
I didn't want to think about that, especially not now while still feeling the after effects of a shift. I pushed the bench back and forth on its remaining legs. I watched the sea and tried to imagine how it was like before it all started.
The locals were always proud of Istanbul and the Bosphorus. I wasn't sure if it was well deserved or not. I had only spent a month or so when it happened. But I could say this; I was getting sick of hearing the same dull fact about the city having one leg in the Asian continent and another in the European one. You could still hear that fact spoken in coffeehouses or bazaars, but not much of that proud was left. There was bitterness in it now. It was just some sort of sick joke or perhaps a play of faith that this disaster had started here and the whole fabric of reality was unraveling around our head.
"What?" I snapped into the radio. I couldn't just ignore the persistent beeping anymore.
"There was a shift around your vicinity," the voice warned.
"You think so?"
I hoped the scorn in my voice was heavy enough to carry over miles without losing much of its intensity. I looked at my bleeding hands and arms, at the wound in my leg.
"Shit."
"That's about right. Wasn't that system of yours supposed to warn us of these things –you know, before they happened?"
"Shit!"
"There is another one coming, isn't it?" I asked with defeat.
"You've got to get out of there… about right now. This one will be massive."
"Damn it." I snapped to my feet. The bench toppled backwards. "Where?"
"Right in front of you. Thirty meters."
I looked at the water rushing past in front of me. We would never know what would come through and where it would finally surface. The water directly in front of me started shimmering and boiling. The affected area grew and grew until it was close enough for me to feel the shift coming alive.
Nobody I met in the Taskforce could describe the feeling; each of them had given an answer, something that made sense to them, something personal. For me it was the moment I picked up the phone. The sense of wrongness had oozed out of the thing. I knew something terrible had happened. I didn't need to pick up the receiver to hear whoever was on the other side of the line telling me that my little girl was dead. I looked at the disturbed surface and knew that the shift was coming.
I felt it in my bones.
"Start running man. The displacement will suck you in."
I started moving back, not able to take my eyes off of it. The wound made my retreat slow like a snail's. I made my way to a water hydrant, and that was the farthest I could get. I sat on the road resting my chest on the hydrant and facing the shift.
The red hydrant stood in the middle of my legs like an absurd joke. I hoped I was far enough. I hoped I wouldn't slowly crush to death thanks to the displacement. Balls and chest slowly pressing against cold metal… it wasn't a pleasant idea.
It started; the air hissed away and the pressure dropped. The temperature suddenly leaped by tens of degrees around me. Everything shook as if massive diesel machines started working under the ground. I hugged the hydrant like an old lover and it vibrated against my chest in reply.
"Good luck." I heard the operator say and the line was cut and replaced by static.
It was close now. The pull was reaching uncomfortable intensity. I remembered the last time, laughing at my jacket flapping as if the wind was hitting it and waiting for what would come through. I feared it was my turn to take a dive through the bunny hole.
The vibrations traveled under the ground and turned the hydrant into a living thing. The pull grew and I found myself having trouble staying awake. I didn't know if it was the air getting thinner around me or the pressure on my chest building up. It was getting hard to keep my eyes open. I saw the bench bank taking off of the ground like an injured bird. The darkness crept over the edge of my vision slowly and the bench landing in water was the last thing I saw.
I came to myself only a meter away from the water. The ground I was lying on was holding so far, but I could see the jagged edge within my reach, slowly degrading and rocks falling into the water with uneven splashes. Most of the walking path at this side of the road was gone into the water.
I got up and surveyed my immediate surrounding. A car had fallen into the sea, the water now swallowing the most of it. Its lights blinked on and off, then finally gave up.
I watched the place where the shift opened, not knowing what to expect. It was strangely calm until the water suddenly swelled as something pushed forward into this world. Waves broke on the edge, wetting my face with salty water.
My legs wobbled. I didn't know whether it was because of the leg wound or fear. I sat –almost fell, on the ground. The last shift was barely ten inches in diameter, and what squeezed through almost killed me and managed to land a deep, cutting blow to my leg. I didn't want to think what kind of horror could come through a shift like this. I just hoped, whatever it was, it was slowly drowning in the murky waters of Bosphorus.
It wasn't a good day to have wishes. Another swell broke on what was left of the road.
"Maser, you there? Tell me you're still alive man." The earpiece was working again; the shift had closed.
"I'm here and I'm alive... for the moment."
"What's going on?"
"I think I'll be able to give you a better picture in a few minutes. If I survive that is."
He kept going on and on, but I couldn't focus on his voice at all. Swell after swell broke on the edge. Something was coming, and I really didn't want to be here when that happened.
"Shut up and listen for a moment! Whatever came through that last shift landed in the water, and it's moving towards the shallow waters. Do you want to guess where I am?" I said as I slowly made my way to an abandoned house. Half of the wall was gone. It made a good hiding spot.
"Right in its path?"
"Yup. I need extraction. This is way too big for a one-man job. In fact, get me out and burn this place to the ground."
"Negative for extraction, Maser."
"What? I'm wounded."
"It gets worse."
I suddenly knew how it could get any worse. At least, they were being clever about this.
"How long do I have?"
"Minutes. Two birds took off with enough ordinances to level anything within a mile radius."
"S
hit. Then I'm dead. I'm in no position for a sprint."
There was only silence on the other side.
"Still there?" I asked.
"Yes. I- I'm sorry, Maser. There is nothing I can do."
"Damn it. Just keep the connection up. I'll give as much intel as it's possible."
My leg throbbed with each heartbeat, leaking precious blood on the dirty ground of the house. I leaned against a large crack in the wall and rested my shoulder. I could see most of the coastal side through the gap.
Another swell crashed on the edge. This one was bigger than the others. The car half sunk in the shallow waters gave up a shrill scream and was lost in the waters as it was dragged away from my sight. Then, here it was again I thought. It was just a mistake. Maybe I was getting tired with blood lost. It took a heartbeat or two for me to realize it wasn't a car. No, it was just a paw the size of a small car.
It was dark, some murky mix of green and black, like the dirty water one would leave behind in a glass after a long session of painting a watercolor forest