by Luis Samways
Ray’s heart pounds at what he has just seen. An everlasting thirst grips at his throat as his arm starts to feel warm. He quickly glances at his right arm that feels ablaze and gasps at what he sees. The blinking dot that he has just seen on the ill-fated people below has made its way onto his arm. The blinking had started slow but with every single second passed, it grew quicker in its rate. Ray looks down at the empty street below and realises that the same thing is about to happen to him. He has no time to digest what is happening. He just turns around and looks at the poster of the cartoon mole on the wall. He quickly understands what he needs to do. He rushes over to his workspace and grabs his laptop. He grabs the power unit and a network dongle. He shoves the laptop and dongle into a rucksack. He quickly goes to the fridge and grabs some water and food, shoving it into the big rucksack as well. Before more than a minute has passed, he is out of his apartment door. He isn’t even aware of the blinking light anymore. He needs to get to where he knows he needs to be. Even if the blinking light in his wrist is flashing violently as he does so.
Twelve
‘Mrs Angela Novik, you are being arrested under the suspicion of murdering your Husband, Mr Brian Novik and then discarding of evidence through hydrofluoric acid. You are also being charged with the murders of three morgue technician’s and two security guards. You have the right to a lawyer, if you cannot afford one, one will be provided to you by the state of New York,’ says the police officer as he cuffs Mrs Novik.
‘What? I don’t understand,’ she says as a stream of tears run down her face ‘My husband was dumped on my front yard this morning. I haven’t seen him in ten years. How could I have murdered him?’
‘That’s for the courts to decide Mrs Novik. We are taking you downtown,’ the police officer says
He escorts her outside and they are met by a sea of police officers. She is rushed through the crowd of officers and put into the back of a cruiser. The door is shut hard and she if left in silence in the back of the police car. The strong smell of leather and the cold breeze of the AC unit hits her like a ton of bricks. She starts to sob uncontrollably as she sees a team of lab coat crime scene investigators enter her house.
The two officers that remanded her are keeping an eye on her outside the car. One of them turns around to the other with a look of confusion in his face.
‘Man, I’ve seen plenty of scumbag murderers in my time, but that lady is something different. Not one ounce of regret on her face. She actually looks as if she thinks she’s innocent!’
The other officer laughs.
‘They all look like that at the start Mickey, then you take them downtown, and they open up like can of beans on a cowboy ranch. CCTV doesn’t lie’
‘I guess you’re right. I didn’t think we were going to get here in time. Downtown is like a circus today,’ he says
‘Yeah, there’s some sort of virus going around. My friend at the Hospital tells me there has been a few hundred people in today complaining about a beacon’
The other officer looks confused
‘A beacon? What do you mean?’
‘A bunch of crackpots have gone in to the hospital complaining about seeing a beacon in their arm, like some sort of homing device. They are adamant it’s flashing and when they show the doctors, they can’t see it. Fucking crazy shit man’
‘What do you think it could be?’
‘Fuck knows man; this town is full of whack jobs. We could be looking at some sort of group of hippies taking mass amount of drugs and tripping out. That’s what the hospital is putting it down to’
‘But a hundred of them? All of them complaining about the same thing? Surly that in its self needs an explanation’
The man laughs
‘I’m not a doctor so I wouldn’t know, but I tell you what, ever since that guy blew himself up yesterday in that posh restaurant, it looks as if the city has gone mad!’
‘He didn’t blow himself up. People said he spontaneously combusted!’
‘My ass he did. That’s all just a myth. No one has ever spontaneously combusted. I don’t care what you’ve heard!’
The two officers laugh it off and carry on with their work.
Thirteen
‘So it’s taken care of then?’ Mr Conway says as he bites down on his cigar and lights it up.
Mrs Harriet stands there with a smile on her face. She knows it’s over and she is proud of her creativity on this particular assignment.
‘Yes sir. His wife is being pinned for his murder. We have planted some evidence in his corpse before we took the acid to his head to make it look like she wanted to cover his murder up. We also killed a few guards and morgue workers to make sure she rots’
Mr Conway looks impressed.
‘So the CCTV dub of her worked then?’
‘Yep, we got our new technician to dupe a static image of her and render it into the CCTV footage of Mr Jones. What we got was her at the scene of the crime. They don’t have the technology to figure out it’s a fake and the media will be far too focused on her and the slayings in the morgue that they will forget about what’s really happening’
Mr Conway smiles.
‘I must say Mrs Harriet, I am impressed. Well done. It looks as if disciplinary action will not be taken against you. You have earned back your seat at this table. Well done once again,’ Mr Conway says as he takes another hard pull on his Cuban cigar.
‘It’s nothing sir. I’m just doing what my country needs me to do’
‘Yes…Yes you are’
Mrs Harriet smiles a wide specked grin as she bows her head in respect and makes her way to the door.
‘Before I forget Mrs Harriet, what’s your take on this spontaneous combustion angle the press and authorities are taking on our work?’
She turns around and laughs.
‘Oh, I couldn’t of put it better myself. It’s a good thing they think that. Helps us continue our work.’
‘I thought you would say that. I myself want everyone to know what we are doing, but that will come in time. For now let them think people are self-combusting all over the place…For now anyway’
Fourteen
‘So you’re telling me you know nothing Mrs Novik? You just ended up on the CCTV footage? You didn’t kill any of those people? And you certainly didn’t disfigure your dead husband’s corpse with hydrochloric acid? I find that terribly hard to believe, and I certainly find it incredibly fictional,’ the detective says as he bends over the interrogation table and looks Mrs Novik square in the eyes.
She remains still, unmoved by the harsh words of the interviewing detective, yet an evident sadness is present in her eyes. It’s a sadness that engulfs her spirit and makes the world seem colourless. She’s still struggling with the grief of her husband being dead after all these years of pointless hope. A hope in which she thought that maybe one day she would see him again. That hope was shattered today, when her husband’s corpse was dumped on her lawn after ten years of him being missing. In those ten years she never thought that her husband was dead. She figured he faked his own death considering the suicide letter he left her with the anonymous corpse that was believed to be him. She knows he’s dead now, and the fact that the authorities are blaming her for his death is nothing short of torture in her eyes. She loved her husband…she loves her husband.
‘I don’t know what you are talking about. I was at home, I swear!’ she screams in a fit of rage, a rage that is born from circumstances, circumstances in which she finds herself in at that very moment in time. She can’t go to prison for the murder of her husband. She just can’t!
‘In my eyes Mrs Novik, I see a desperate woman. A woman with no remorse. The type of woman who would not only take the life of her husband but also take the lives of three morgue workers, all in the name of protecting your tracks and getting away with murder. That to me Mrs Novik strikes me as cold,’ the detective snarls as he sits down across from her, tapping his fingers on the cold interrogation room’s
table. Each tap of his finger seems to be echoing off the walls as his voice grows deeper and deeper in tone. Mrs Novik’s mind is racing at the thought of her future. Will she be able to convince them that they have the wrong person?
‘Honestly, I swear on my children’s lives, I did not kill my husband. I’ll take a lie detector test for god’s sake, just let me prove my innocence,’ she cries
The detective smiles a cold smile, one peppered with distain.
‘You don’t need to prove anything Mrs Novik, I think you have proven enough already’
Fifteen
Ray is running through the empty street he once lived on. His apartment block is in the distance behind him as he rushes through the now near deserted street. A few cars remain parked near the sidewalk. A quick thought of him breaking into a car and getting out of the city pops into his head. He decides against it and continues. He runs past a group of people arguing who seem to be in just as much of a panic as him. All of them are showing the same symptoms as Ray. A blinking red light on each of their right arms. Ray doesn’t stop, he continues to run. No one on the street pays much attention to Ray; they seem to be more preoccupied with themselves. Ray is preoccupied too, but he seems to be amazed at the lack of attention anyone is paying to him. Usually the people of New York will stare a hole into you, but today that seems to be far from the truth.
He continues to run unopposed by the loitering men and women on the street. Not one person has asked him for help, which he is glad for seeing he is only interested in going underground. The constant thought of him escaping is the driving force behind the energy is he feeling. Not too long ago he felt sluggish and non-coherent, but at this moment in time he feels as if he has a new lease of life, a new found drive. Seeing people blow up and self-combust around him has made him eager to go underground. He figures that he will be safe underground. He stops dead in the middle of the street. A quiet soothing wind falls across his back as the blackness of the night reflects off his skin. He swivels his head around, trying to catch his baring’s. He remembers that the metro is a good two miles from this street. He’s certain that he won’t make it that far, not with the flashing light in his arm. The two men that combusted near his apartment earlier had a similar rate of flashing on their arms, so Ray gathers that maybe it’s best if he finds an alternative location underground. Retrospectively the metro is a good idea. It will be lit and have various supply rooms where Ray can gather tools for his survival. It will also have vending machines that may be stocked with food and beverages. But he knows that if he stays outside any longer, he could die. If it isn’t the flashing light in his wrist that gets him, it could be the people on the streets. Who knows what a man could do when in fear of his life. People have killed for a lot less.
Ray looks up at the dark sky and breaths in a cold mouthful of air. It hits the roof of his mouth like popping candy, a feeling that awakens his senses for the time being. The dark sky is a strange off purple tonight. It possesses an aura that seems to fit the occasion well. On a night where beacons of light are penetrating people’s bodies and killing them in a blaze of gore, the night sky over New York City is a kin to a horror movie. Ray knows that the answers to this mystery lie in the skies. For years man has wondered what lies beyond the stars. It could be a lot more than space rocks and satellites. It could be the secret that Ray has been looking for all these years.
He doesn’t have time to contemplate the meaning or origin of these strange lights. Sure he has an idea, but who doesn’t. Some may think it’s the Rapture, others may think it’s a hostile takeover. The only thing Ray is thinking about is finding the nearest drain grate. Maybe the sewers are the answer.
He spots a glistening metal grate a few feet away from him. He smiles as he realises that maybe he has found what he’s looking for. Sure the sewers are dirty and dank, but anything is better than above ground. Ray quickly moves closer to the grate and kneels down. He pops his rucksack off his shoulders and gently puts it on the ground. He grips his fingers around the big round grate and attempts to move it. He doesn’t budge it one bit. He starts to sweat as he strains while trying to move the heavy sewer lid off its socket. He gives up and looks around. He spots a fire escape staircase that the city is famous for and runs over to it. He sees the ladder dangling down and pulls at it. It seems locked in place but a tad bit frail. He grabs at the wonky ladder leg and bends it. Its bends easily and after a few minutes of labour Ray manages to snap the ladder leg off. He palms the metal leg and runs over to the drain. He slots the leg into the grates round key socket whole and pushes. The grate starts to shift gradually as Ray starts to sweat. He doesn’t realise but the flashing in his wrist is growing faster and more rapid. The grate finally shifts and clangs out of place revealing a round bottomless pit with a ladder attached to the inside wall. Ray laughs out loud as a bead of sweat drops down his brow. He quickly grabs his rucksack and puts it back on. He manoeuvres himself onto the ladder and catches a glimpse of his wrist. The LED style light is flashing faster than before. He starts to panic and moves down the dark ladder at great speed. The flashing starts to slow down and a sigh of relief is heard out of Ray’s exhausted mouth. The deeper he goes underground, the slower the flashing in his wrists is. Maybe he was right to go underground.
Sixteen
‘What the fuck are we going to do, stay down here for ever?’ asks David Seal as he throws his hands up in the air.
Mitch doesn’t seem to be paying much attention the big shot lawyer’s outburst. They have been acquainted now for more than six hours. That’s more than long enough to get to know a man.
‘We just sit here and wait. Maybe someone will find us and point us in the right direction,’ says Mitch in a calm and collected manner.
David laughs at Mitches’ tone.
‘You surly don’t think things are going to return to normal do you?’
‘Why wouldn’t they?’ says Mitch
‘Because of these fucking lights in our wrists. That’s why we are down here isn’t it? It isn’t because we like hanging around human faecal matter for the fun of it’
‘I don’t see these so called “Lights” as anything to worry about’
‘Are you crazy Mitch? These lights must mean something. Goddamn government is taking over, that’s what it is. Must be some chip or something, commands us to self-destruct. I saw it with my own eyes. My best friend blew up in front of me’
Mitch smiles as he looks across at his two sleeping girls curled up on the floor. He wrapped them up in some newspaper and laid out his rucksack as a pillow for the both of them. The sight is a mixture of sadness and family spirit as the warm glow of the blazed oil drum peppers the sewer in a dim but welcoming light.
‘Maybe it isn’t man made,’ says Mitch
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m just saying. Maybe these lights are something to do with a higher power’
David’s eyes roll at Mitch.
‘A higher power? Like what?’
‘You know, God,’ Mitch says quietly
‘For fuck sake man. Why would God be blowing people up?’
‘The Rapture. It says in the Bible that people will be taken up to heaven in a flash of light’
David’s eyes narrow as he stares at Mitch.
‘I hardly think that people blowing up all over the place is a clear indication of them going to heaven. I mean, don’t get me wrong. You can believe what you want. But something is telling me you don’t believe that or you wouldn’t be down here trying to escape it,’ says David as he brushes some dirt of his pristine suit.
‘True, but who said I wanted to go to heaven?’
Seventeen
‘Give me the fucking money! Or I’ll cut your damn throat,’ the man in the hood says to the young black teen.
‘I aint giving you shit. You better run motherfucker, these streets aint too kind to your type,’ the young male says to the knife wielding robber.
‘Oh, you done did it now you
stupid kid,’ the man says as he raises his arm out as if he is about to strike.
Suddenly the man with the knife hits the floor with a thud. Where he was standing, behind him stands a tall man in the shadows. The man is holding a large tyre iron. The young kid breathes a sigh of relief at the sight of the tall man.
‘Damn you took your time son,’ the teen says as he brushes himself off. The alley lights glisten off the kid’s jewellery.
‘I ain’t your son, boy. You better watch your tone when you talk to me. You see that’s what gets you into trouble. That’s why that white man wanted to stab you, because of your foul mouth. No respect, that’s what it is,’ the tall man says
‘Okay man, chill Dwayne,’ says the kid
Dwayne’s eyes widen accompanied by a smile.
‘I’m just kidding Tyrell. Good work,’ says Dwayne