by Luis Samways
Tyrell smiles as he brushes himself down. He looks at the unconscious body of the robber on the floor.
‘Man help me turn this sucker over,’ he says to Dwayne.
They both heave the man over and spot a flashing light underneath his clothes.
‘Man, this guy got something on him. Hopefully one of them iPhones. We can get some paper for that’
Tyrell nods in agreement while checking the idle man on the floor. He pats him down and finds nothing. The light is still flashing, illuminating their faces in the dark alley.
‘Man, I aint found shit. This guy has nothing on him. Maybe we shouldn’t be targeting robbers like this. Nine times out of ten, they don’t have shit on them’
Dwayne nods
‘What’s up with that light though? Check to see if it’s his watch,’ he says as Tyrell checks the man’s wrists. To their dismay they see a flashing light embedded into the man’s right wrist.
‘Holy shit, what the hell is that?’ says Dwayne
‘I don’t know, maybe it’s a bomb’
The two of them back a few paces away and watch as the light in the man’s wrist pulsates violently. The man’s eyes open as he is met with the two men looking down at him in shock.
‘What the hell are you two looking at? Nice of you to stick around after knocking me over the head,’ the man says, not quite noticing the red light in his wrist that’s now illuminating his face. He suddenly looks down and notices it.
‘What the fu..’
Just before the man can finish what he was about to say a huge ray of light runs through the middle of his body. A blinding light is seen as the man’s corpse splits down the middle and explodes outwards. Dwayne and Tyrell get the remains of the man’s body splashed onto their faces as they stare on in amazement.
They remain staring at the pool of blood in which the man they had knocked out minutes before was lying. All that remained was an oozing pile of blood and dust.
‘Looks like it was a bomb,’ Dwayne says out of breath
Both men remain fixated on the dust pile in front of them until a red light in their vicinity starts to flash. They look around in panic as they realise what is happening. Both look down at their wrists and are met with the same flashing lights, just like the ones that had claimed the man in front of them and were about to claim the both of them as they look at each other in horror.
Eighteen
DeShaun enters the NYPD precinct with a coffee in one hand and a large folder in the other. He’s rushing towards the elevator when someone holds the button for him. He crams himself into the small elevator and waits for his floor. He watches the numbers on the digital dial go from one to seven. He waits for the guy in front of him to exit first and then follows. He turns down a few halls and walks into an office. He thumps the heavy folder down onto the table and takes a sip of his coffee. The two sounds alert the man in the office to the presence of DeShaun.
The unaware man smiles at DeShaun as he gets up and shakes his hand.
‘Hey Sean, how you doing?’ the polite man says as he continues to grip DeShaun’s large hand.
‘Not so good Commissioner, not so good at all,’ he says as he lets the commissioner’s hand go and takes a seat at the table, opening his folder while gently sipping his coffee.
The commissioner sits down as well and gives DeShaun a worried look.
‘Is everything alright?’ asks the commissioner.
DeShaun looks at the man across the table and gives him a clear look of authority, as if he wants to put the reeling man in his place.
‘No, nothing is alright Mr Commissioner. We have a shitstorm brewing and you don’t seem to be grasping the situation at all,’ he says
‘I do not fully understand you Sean, could you be more specific?’
DeShaun gets up and thumps his fist on the table. The sound echoes off the walls and grabs the attention of the man and the stares of a few other people through the office door behind him.
‘We have a serious problem here. People are combusting on the streets of New York. The president wants answers. What the hell is going on?’
The man looks puzzled.
‘Combusting? What are you talking about?’
DeShaun grabs the remote control on the table and turns around to face the TV. He clicks the red button and the TV switches on and lands on the news channel. The headlines match the atmosphere of the room as the media reports on the strange going ons of the night prior.
‘This is news to you?’ Asks DeShaun
‘Yes…I had no idea, what’s going on? How many people….’
‘More than you want to know. I find it hard to believe that the aid to the Mayor doesn’t know what’s going on’
‘I can assure you DeShaun that this is the first I’m hearing of it’
DeShaun smiles
‘It won’t be the last’
Nineteen
‘The government are starting to take notice of the beacons sir,’ Mrs Harriet says as she sits down across from her boss.
Mr Conway smells his Cuban cigar as he watches over its brim and locks eyes with the beautiful Mrs Harriet.
‘What sort of damage are we looking at?’ he asks
‘None, they don’t know anything substantial. They just know something is going on. Apparently the White House thinks it’s a virus. They first believed it was natural and issued an advisory to the World Health Organisation, but when WHO got back to them, they realised that no virus in the history of mankind can in their words “Combust a Human”. So now they think it’s a terrorist plot, much like Anthrax or smallpox,’ she says
‘Terrorists?’
She nods her head
‘I’m afraid so sir’
Mr Conway gets up from his chair and turns around to ogle his marine life in his aquarium styled walls. He strokes the glass as one of his small Hammerhead sharks passes by.
‘That’s the thing with the government. You stick them in a corner and all they do is blame someone else. I find it hard to believe the arrogance of these men and women of the state. How can they not see it? How can they not smell it?’
‘Smell what sir?’ asks Mrs Harriet
‘The blood in the water. You see Mrs Harriet, when there is blood in the water, a shark can smell it from miles away. Most Humans can’t smell shit on their shoe, but the almighty US government? Hell, they pride themselves on being able to sniff out an enemy attack. It’s just painful to know that my efforts are yet unknown’
‘They will know sir. The whole world will know, in time,’ Mrs Harriet says
‘Yes they will. For the time being, get the men stationed. It seems as if it’s time to show our hand’
Mrs Harriet gets up and salutes her boss who remains fixated on his pet shark.
‘Will do sir’
She walks out of the marina office and leaves her boss alone with his thoughts.
Twenty
Ray had made his way down to the bottom of the ladder, his feet hitting the cold dirty water with a splash. The spray of dirty water hits his nasal passage as a grim lingering smell of the environment chokes at his airways.
‘Shit…smells terrible down here,’ he says to himself as he tries to hold his breath.
His feet wade through the filth as he moves on forward, trying to decide whether to go left or right at an intersection. He spots a faint glow of light to the right and decides that maybe it could lead to somewhere with more visibility. Ray’s rucksack hangs tight on his shoulders, while trying to minimise the amount of water residue he gets on himself. He’s brung his laptop and a networking dongle with him. He figures that the laptop may come in handy, but isn’t sure if the internet will stay on any longer considering the sort of interference he was experiencing in his apartment earlier that day.
After around ten minutes of walking through slush he spots a group of people surrounding an oil drum in the distance. They haven’t seen him yet, so he moves in slowly, hoping to get closer before making
himself known. Suddenly a man spots him and shakes the man next to him and points in Ray’s direction.
‘Hey you, don’t you move any closer,’ the man says
Ray stops, fearing they have a weapon of some sorts.
‘I don’t want know trouble. I just came down here to find shelter from those things,’ says Ray calmly
‘What things?’ the other man asks
‘The lights…I gathered they can’t get me down here. I gathered they run on satellites. Going underground is safer than being up there for God knows what’s going to come next’
The man smiles and waves him forward.
As Ray walks towards the two men surrounding the barrel he spots two little girls lying on the floor, asleep. He feels better knowing these people are most likely normal. Bandits wouldn’t have little girls with them.
‘I’m Ray,’ he says as he moves closer to the men.
‘I’m David and this here is Mitch’
Ray shakes David’s hand and goes to shake Mitch’s but Mitch doesn’t accept the invitation. David looks on in confusion but darts back to Ray who gives him a smile.
‘Man are we glad to see a new face. It’s just me and Mitch down here, plus his two girls there sleeping. We were wondering if anyone else would hit this part of the sewer. We thought that maybe people hit the metro and are hunkering down there, but we also gathered some people might come down here. Granted some people have not made it out of New York’s surface alive but some people must have had the same idea as us to come underground,’ says David
Ray smiles
‘That’s good to know. I’m sure we will find more people, there has got to be more survivors’
‘Word is, not everyone has experienced this blinking light. Everyone I’ve seen seems to be around the same age. Maybe it only affects certain people,’ says David
‘Maybe,’ Ray agrees
Mitch is still staring a hole into Ray.
‘Is there a problem,’ asks David as he looks on at Mitch
‘No, just wondering, that’s all’
‘Wondering what?’
‘If this here nigger is trouble,’ says Mitch in a cold voice
Ray looks on in amazement
‘What the fuck did you just say?’ asks David
‘I’m just wondering if this guy is trouble’
‘That’s not what you said, you called him a nigger’
Mitch smiles
‘I sure did, I just call it how I see it’
Ray remains silent. He doesn’t know how to react; he just stands there observing the two men.
‘You’re a goddamn lawyer, you shouldn’t be calling people niggers,’ says David
‘You said I wasn’t shit anymore, like you. You said this world is done and it doesn’t matter what we was before,’ says Mitch as he remains locked onto the eyes of Ray.
‘If that’s true, then surely calling this man a name like that is backwards. It doesn’t matter what colour he is, he is a survivor just like us. Get a grip man!’
Mitch nods his head.
‘Yep, that’s right. Protect this man. Protect this nigger we don’t know from nowhere. For all I know, he could rape my two girls down here. We know what they are like’
Ray has finally had enough
‘I don’t know what experience you have had with black people sir, but I can assure you that no matter what colour you are, murderers and rapists come in all colours of skin’
‘True,’ admits Mitch as he finally unlocks his stare off Ray and sits down on the floor next to Abigail and Tristan.
‘I can go if you want,’ says Ray
‘No, stay here. We need all the people we can get. Safety in numbers and all,’ says David
Mitch looks up at David and nods
‘I’m sorry about my use of language… Ray is it? That’s my daddy coming out of me. He was a no good racists and unfortunately I sometimes forget that I too have my own mind,’ says Mitch
‘Okay,’ is all that Ray could muster. How else could you respond to someone who two minutes ago sounded like he wanted to lynch you?
‘Okay,’ Echoes David as he keeps an eye on both Ray and Mitch.
Twenty One
Donner Hayes is walking the halls of the hospital feeling overwhelmed at what she is seeing. Everywhere she looks is another visual footnote of the chaos that’s surrounding the downtown hospital. She’s been on shift now for what seems like an eternity. The hustle and bustle of the hospital hasn’t let up since she has come on shift. She looks around the halls wandering about aimlessly, trying to figure out how she is going to rectify the problem at hand.
The problem she is facing is severe, her colleagues and herself do not know what to do. They recently got an emergency fax from the department of health warning them of a potential lethal pathogen that’s making its rounds across New York. At first she didn’t believe it. Not another terrorist attack, surly it can’t be happening again, but then she caught the news on the TV when she went for her dinner break. CNN were reporting on a virus that could be making its way around the US, a virus that is making people self-combust. Donner has been present in a lot of scary situations. She was a medical officer in the army but decided she was better fit for a role in a civilian hospital. She knows the extents at which some men are willing to go to inflict harm on their enemy. It’s no secret, the US has enemies, and those enemies will do what they please to make sure the “Western threat” is dealt with accordingly. She wanted to escape the hardships of the warzone but she feels as if she has stumbled onto a new battlefield.
Some of the staff are sceptical on the reports of a so called chemical pathogen that’s making people combust into thin air, but Donner has a feeling it may ring true considering the evidence she has seen so far. During her shift she has come across people complaining of certain symptoms that match up to the news reports and rumours that are circulating. That’s why she finds herself outside the room of the first patient she came across displaying these symptoms. At first she dismissed them as psychosis brought on by heavy cannabis usage, but now she sees it in a different light.
Mr Adams is lying down on his hospital bed covered in sweat. She can see the signs of life in him escape through every pour in his body. The last time she saw him, he was complaining about a red blinking light in his wrist. The thing is he looked more than healthy before. A young handsome man that looked fresh if not a bit under the weather. She didn’t believe him because of how he looked, upbeat and roaring to go, if not a bit slow and slurry with his speech. He had complained about feeling like an old man, feeling as if the youth of his twenty five years were wasting away and being replaced with a shell of a feeble being.
She enters the room in which Mr Adam’s is resting in. She approaches him cautiously; he seems as if he is asleep. The closer she gets to his bed the warmer she feels. She can feel an overwhelming sense of body heat coming from him. The room feels like a furnace and Mr Adam’s is the source of it. Cold patches in the air hit Donner as she feels the mixture of humidity and coldness swirl together. It’s a strange feeling, one she has never felt before. You could almost call it unworldly.
She reaches for the clipboard at the end of Mr Adam’s bed. She reads it and is shocked at what she sees.
“High temperature and frail physique. No signs of flue or pathogens in blood work. Diagnosis is N/A” it reads
Mr Adams coughs as she snaps back to reality. He sees her at his bedside and smiles.
‘Hey doc, you came back,’ he says as he tries to sound chirpy.
The sound of his voice nearly brings a tear to Donner’s eye. A man with so much potential is dying in front of her, and no one at the hospital knows why.
‘Hey Mr Adams,’ she says as she moves from the bottom of the bed to his side.
‘Please call me Scott,’ he says
‘How you feeling Scott?’
‘I’ve felt better, I’m sorry about before doc, it’s just I don’t want to die’
The tears in her eyes are running down her cheek.
‘You won’t die Scott, I can help you…We can help you’
‘They said I could die…They said my body temperature is too high. I could die of a stroke they said. They tried to cool me down, and give me antibiotics, but it looks like I’m about to punch my ticket,’ says Scott as he starts to cough violently.
‘What’s wrong with you?’ She says impatiently, as if she was asking herself, trying to find answers.
‘I don’t know, but whatever happens I’m sure I won’t be the only one to die’
She feels confused. Mr Adam’s looks as if he has come to terms with his death, even though most men his age would be crying their eyes out, proclaiming they haven’t lived or loved yet. Donner knows that she would feel that way too, she’s too young to die, that makes him even more so. She remains silent as she looks at the fading man on the bed.
Suddenly she hears a commotion outside of the room. She can’t see what’s happening but she can hear screams, and then a loud explosion, followed by a chorus of pops and explosions, each matching each other with an everlasting hissing sound. Scott grabs her arm tightly and opens his eyes to reveal an orange tinge on his eye whites. It catches her off guard and she screams.
‘Don’t be afraid doc, everything will be over in a matter of minutes,’ Scott says as he seems to change slightly.
His face grows darker as the aura of his eyes starts to brighten the room. Donner fears for her life as he holds her, his finger nails clasping deep into her forearm, drawing blood. He pulls her closer and raises free his arm. She sees his finger nails straighten as he makes a claw and digs his nails deep into her wrist. A spray of blood is seen as he quickly rips at her wrist and let’s go. A flashing in her wrist begins. She tries to free herself. Scott lets her go, still in a trance like state of mind, still with bright orange eyes, still smiling a sadistic smile.
Donner looks at her arm and sees a fast healed scar appear where Scott had dug his nails into. Just under that, the blinking light glows red as it pulsates violently in rhythm with her beating heart.