Solace

Grimly, Daniel Winters returned to his penthouse apartment in the skyscraper Jackson Tower. His day had been spent with needless tinkering simply to keep his infinite hours interesting and to prevent his mind from wandering into the realms of insanity. The only excitement of the day was the loss of a screwdriver, which would be tomorrow’s activity. As always, he locked the door as he entered, not for security, but for complete seclusion from the world from which he hid. The overhanging lights bloomed their colours as he kicked the electric generator into life. The generator was a composite of anything that gave electricity; batteries, petrol and if they failed, Dan had to wind up a dynamo he’d attached himself.
The penthouse was a one room, open plan flat and seemed almost completely made of glass; each wall was a window. This room was the only place Dan felt he could escape from his true life, so he had painted over each window and their spectacular views in black paint to hide from those daunting skyscrapers, a shrine to the past. In the centre of the room was a pile of mattresses, pillows, cushions and blankets, which served as his bed. Next to the bed sat a heap of various objects; photographs, books and toys and other items Dan had picked up over time. Each object held value purely to him. In what had once been an open plan kitchen area was an uneven pyramid of tinned food and next to this haphazard larder was a large, open water tank, which was filled by a drainpipe protruding through a hole in the ceiling. This was hardly the home of a king but, for the richest man in the city, this was the best he could do.
Dan walked over the carpet of empty beer cans to the kitchen area, opened a tin and began scooping out the jelly-like substance with his hand. He crammed the food into his mouth without looking to see what it was. After his supper Dan dropped his heavy fur coat, which was more a series of linked pockets than anything else, to reveal his body, nude bar the shoes he wore, and slumped onto his bed to gaze absent-mindedly at the one patch of the window-wall he’d left unpainted. The gaps in the black paint spelled out “you are the luckiest man alive.” He had written the words when he once tried to kill himself and had truly believed in their wisdom but now they seemed to mock him. Dan’s empty soul wept for hours, until he fell into a sleep corrupted by the images of reality that taunted his mind.
Dan woke, unaware of the time, and he threw on his coat and left his flat, locking the door behind him. He reached the stairwell and clambered onto a platform which he’d created, lowering him carefully down to the ground floor by means of an electric pulley system. Sunlight blinded him as he burst through the double doors of the Jackson Building’s ornate entrance hall onto the street. He raised a hand to shield his eyes and began to find his bearing amidst the matted screen of defiled, ruined buildings that made the city. The first landmark was a rusting car on the pavement. With broken glass cracking under his large leather boots, he set off past the burned out Saloon he’d checked for useful parts years ago. The street was now an obstacle course of snapped lampposts, telegraph poles and traffic lights that lay strewn across the road.
Over the years Dan has systematically looted the shops and stores in the neighbouring blocks and now he had to travel further and further afield to find what he needed. After an hour of walking, he stopped on a small bridge that overhung a main road so he could pause to observe this newfound area. The place of his gaze was a district that formed little villages, all flowing into each other to make up a city. The buildings were smaller and older than in the centre where he lived, their street levels were mainly shops with flats and apartments for shopkeepers above. The streets were lined with trees but the branches had not grown leaves since the world had given up nurturing anything. The pavements were a litter of twigs and branches shed by the long dead maples and sycamores.
He walked to the edge of the bridge and looked down at the road. On the cracked tarmac was a muddy plastic bottle with a bit of string tied around it. Suddenly he realised he had been here before... Within weeks of Dan awaking from his coma, the loneliness forced him to escape the city and search beyond his empty world. One day he got up and began walking with no prior preparation. He had no idea if he’d find anyone or anything, how long the journey would take where he was going or if he could make it. Before reaching the end of the city he felt the thirst begin to sink into his mouth. In Jackson Tower he’d just finished his crude system for collecting rainwater, but out here water was a scarce luxury. Turning to the nearest corner shop he broke in to find an unopened water bottle and drank heavily, letting the bitter water quell his need. Searching his trouser pocket he found a small length of string which he tied around the bottle’s head, allowing him to let it daggle from his wrist. After emptying the contents of other bottles into his own, he left the shop and kept walking, following the obvious path of a motorway. But as the city thinned the ability to refill his bottle became more difficult. When thirst consumed the final drops of his supply he threw the bottle to the ground in dismay. Foolishly he continued walking though he had no water, for he knew there was nothing for him in the city, but at least in the city he could find clean water and food. When the city eventually died into frosted grey fields he began to feel hungry but resisted the temptation and continued walking into the sharpened cold. The white mountains that encircle the city loomed closer. It was only the numbing air creeping over his skin and freezing his blistered eyes that broke his endurance he began to see that he could only turn back. He ran towards the city and collapsed into the first building he found, an old service station. He smashed into the shop and tore down the shelves trying to find something to drink. In the corner was a large freezer once for ice creams on its back. Opening it Dan found a bath of the melted ice. He instantly plunged his head into the water and drank until he was satisfied. Searching further he found some tinned food which he ate ravenously. It now seemed obvious that he could not make it past the mountains that encircled him, he couldn’t carry enough food and water to survive the mountains and once over them what would he do then? Having deemed escape impossible he trudged back to the empty wastes of the city that he regrettably had to call home.
Back in the present Dan walked into the town and after searching a few blocks he found a small hardware store with smashed windows and a sign saying “everything must go!” Inside were shelves of batteries priced far beyond their worth. He hastily filled his pockets with the precious objects; he desperately needed electricity and batteries for the electric generator in his room. Dan searched the shop to find the screwdriver, the whole reason for his venture, a few shelves down. He slipped the red handled Phillip’s into his pocket and left.
The search for the screwdriver had taken up most of the morning but that left an idle afternoon wasting infinite time.
Boredom was Dan’s one enemy in his lonesome world. Because he knew if he had nothing to keep him entertained and nothing to keep his mind occupied in silent hours that would leave him to the wrath of his own thoughts and imagination that would ravage his mind to the point of insanity. Thus, in a desperate attempt to escape from the dreaded monotony, Dan tried a different route back to Jackson Tower, not a move to spark excitement, but Dan always found the small things the most effective.
Wandering past boarded up houses and deserted phone booths, on the pavement the figure of a car caught his eye. He immediately ran to the car in a sudden buzz of expectation but drawing closer he found the mutilated carcass was propped up by bricks and missing all its wheels. He should have expected no less; all the cars in the city were the same. After trying to leave the city he realised the only way to escape was to find a working car, which would enable him to carry enough supplies and escape the mountain’s cold quickly enough to reach the other side. But though he searched every car escape seemed impossible as they were all irreparable. After forcing open the dented bonnet, he found the engine was rusted solid but the battery seemed intact; these dead cars weren’t completely useless. Dan disconnected the wires and lifted the heavy 12 volt battery from its casing. Dan took a step away from the car, catching his foot on something below it. The object rolled away as he put his weight on it, causing him to lose his balance and fall backwards onto the road, dropping the battery.
The mysterious object was revealed when from under the car a skateboard rolled out. He walked over to where the skateboard had skittered to a stop and picked it up. He examined it closely, spinning the wheels curiously. Though unsure of its function he wanted to resolve the skateboard’s previous attack on Dan’s stability by mastering its purpose. His first thought was of its resemblance to a car in its four wheeled structure, a method of transport perhaps? Dan carefully laid the skateboard back on the tarmac, trying to see it from a different mental angle. It was too small for him to sit on like he would in a car. Perhaps he had to stand on it? He placed one foot on top of the board and then put his other foot on the skateboard. This position seemed unnecessarily precarious but Dan persevered and soon he was standing tall. The skateboard had no visible engine like a car, so how to get himself moving? Dan tried cautiously pushing off with his foot and let himself glide to a gentle stop. Though he would’ve preferred a car and the board was inefficient, it seemed more enjoyable than walking so he tried again. Soon Dan had managed to get himself moving at a steady speed. Now that he was feeling more confident he tried a simple turn, yet misjudged it and fell backwards on to the ground. Annoyed at the skateboard’s second attack at Dan, he got back up and brushing himself down, he went for another try. After several more bone jarring falls, Dan became more aware of his movements in relation to the board and soon he was able to turn quite easily. As the empty buildings sped past Dan allowed his face to mould into a smile; an almost alien expression to him. Yet the feeling of happiness was short lived. His smile quickly turned into a frown, for he knew there was no one with whom he could share his new found talent.
It was time to eat so Dan ran the skateboard back to the car to collect the battery he dropped then skated to a supermarket whose signs broadcast the message “the food that’s nicest at the lowest prices.”
Dan explored the building, the smell of rotten food hanging stagnant in the air, so strong he could taste it. The aisle selves had been emptied and anything other than the walls had been destroyed in some previous riot Dan assumed. Shopping trolleys lain over-turned on the ground; he stood one up and put his skateboard and car battery in it. He immediately bypassed a dripping wet mountain of what had once been food in the frozen food section; the fateful event of vomiting after naively eating some mouldy pizza had taught him that only canned food was edible. Around ten cans littered the floor, he picked up just two; he had plenty of food at home and he could always return here.
Dan carefully parked his trolley so it would not roll away and sat down to eat his lunch on the kerb outside the supermarket. He withdrew the tin can opener he always carried from one of his fur pockets and wound open the can to reveal its contents: cherries, he hated cherries. In this world, where Dan could only get what was left over, he couldn’t afford to be picky. He threw the can to the floor, not thinking that that could be the last can he saw. Dan simply didn’t think like that, he couldn’t afford that luxury either. He couldn’t spend his time conserving his resources, if he did that would require him to constantly think about the future and Dan knew the future held only death. So Dan allowed himself to throw away the can of cherries he didn’t like in direct defiance of organising so he could avoid thinking about the future so he could remain always in the present. He stood up and got himself another can from the trolley and ate the preferred tinned meat. As he consumed his meal Dan looked down at the ground rather than observing his current surroundings; after about five years of wandering these streets he’d seen every old car and decrepit building; the floor was more interesting than his reality. Though Dan didn’t notice it any more, the city was completely silent; to him it had always been this way, no dogs barking, no bird song not even the squeak of a humble rat, just him.

Rebecca, who was eighteen, had been left in charge to look after her younger brother, Luke who was ten, while their parents went to France to visit some old friends. Rebecca lived in her own flat in London, studying fashion at a college in the centre of London. It was a Sunday morning and Rebecca was up before Luke, so she decided to spoil him and cook him a full cooked breakfast. While his food was cooking Rebecca flicked on the TV. As she clicked on to Channel One, it was the news and there were flashing headlines all over the screen saying, “Do not leave your houses, deadly disease spreads like a wildfire. “Rebecca sat down in horror and could not believe what she was reading. A fatal disease called Pythis had broken out in Japan five days before and now it had reached Great Britain. Rebecca had read about it in the newspaper the other day, but never did she think it would spread. She was speechless; thoughts were whirling round her head, “What do I say to Luke? Will I ever see my parents again? What will happen to us?” She decided that she would wake Luke and give him his breakfast and tell him about Pythis, so he was warned about what was going to happen. She ventured to his room, fighting back the tears and hiding her fear as much as she could. When Luke opened his sleepy eyes she told him to come to the kitchen soon for breakfast as it was almost ready. Of course it didn’t take long until Luke came bouncing into the kitchen, with a big grin on his face which was going to make it harder for Rebecca to tell him. Eventually she plucked up the courage to tell him. As she was telling him, tears swelled up in his eyes almost immediately. Rebecca told him that they had to be prepared for the worst, as over half the population in Japan had died and now Pythis had spread into most countries and was killing thousands of people. Once Luke had calmed down, she turned the new back on. It has now hit Edinburgh and Glasgow within the last two days as it takes less than five days to infect someone and kill them. There was nothing anyone could do now, as it had spiralled out of control. One thing was for sure, Rebecca was not going to let either herself or Luke leave the flat until it was safe, but would it ever be again. They wouldn’t even leave for food. Rebecca was terrified of what was going to happen to all her loved ones. She had a feeling she may never see any of them again. Luke was quite obviously thinking and feeling the same but he wanted to be brave as he always was. Luke wanted to ring their parents. As Rebecca dialled her Mum’s number in, suddenly it struck her, what if their parents die, what would happen? The phone rang and rang and just as Rebecca was going to hang up, their mother finally answered. She sounded panicked and tearful. It was Dad, he had been struck with Pythis, earlier that morning he had become very sick and confused, which were some of the symptoms of Pythis and the worst part was their parents weren’t together as her Mum had gone to stay with another friend two days ago. Rebecca was scared and knew her father was a victim of Pythis, which meant he may only have a few days or not even that left to live. She needed to call him and she knew it would be painful as it would be goodbye. The worst part was telling Luke and watching his heart break. After an hour phone call to their Father they said their Goodbyes, hoping it wouldn’t be the last Goodbye, but couldn’t help but believe it. The next morning Rebecca hoped that Pythis was a nightmare, but knowing it wasn’t. Over night the deadly disease had killed over half of Scotland and it was now closer than ever. It had hit London, as over a hundred people had been reported to have had the symptoms over night. When Luke came into the kitchen he hadn’t slept a wink and he complained of a sore head. Rebecca’s heart sank. This couldn’t be true, not her baby brother. She told him he probably just needed something to drink and eat. After two hours Luke felt better and Rebecca prayed that it was just dehydration earlier. There was now only one channel left on television and it was the 24 hours news. It was now reported that in every country almost or over half the population had been confirmed with Pythis or had died from it. Rebecca was so shocked how quickly one disease can take over the world and so quickly. Rebecca and Luke sat cuddled on the sofa together the whole day just watching and listening to the radio. The only thing Rebecca got up for was the telephone, which started to ring. It was their mother, Rebecca feared the worse. Her mother was in tears. She could barely get the words out. Rebecca told her to calm down and just breathe. The words which everyone feared the most soon filled Rebecca and Luke’s head. It was their Father, he had passed away earlier that morning. They were lost for words, they sat on a heap on the floor with tears streaming down their faces, they sat their all night just holding one another, knowing that this wouldn’t be the only loved one they would lose or morn for. Five days on, Rebecca and Luke were still feeling fine but didn’t want to say it as it could change any minute, they were also starting to become very hungry as they were running out of food. There were no channels left on the television now, just one radio station, reporting to the ones left in Great Britain, the awful thing now was that people in desperation were taking chances and leaving their home to get supplies. Rebecca didn’t think twice about letting herself or Luke step outside the front door. More than a half of the population in Great Britain were dead now and more were dying every minute, but what had been said on the radio was that the number of people being infected had slowed down and soon it would be over, but there were still a lot of people who were going to die in the next few days and after that the deadly disease may be over. For the last day Rebecca had been trying to get hold of her mum but there was very limited signal, as there was limited everything. She was concerned their Mother may have died, which scared her. Luke had barely left his room nor had spoken for the last two days, it was his way of dealing with all of it. A few days later the radio station was still going and it has been announced that the disease would no longer spread and it was safe to leave your houses now. Rebecca wanted to be happy, but nothing she felt would make her feel happy, as she knew everyone she had ever laid eyes on would mostly likely be dead now. She cried for hours, until she looked out of the window and saw the first human, apart from Luke, she had seen in over two weeks. As the person moved closer she thought the figure looked very familiar, it was their Mummy, she shrieked with joy, shouting to Luke to hurry, she sprinted outside until she was in her mother’s arms. Luke was soon at their side. All three of them cried with joy they had each other again. The fresh air felt so good as it hit Rebecca’s cheeks feeling fresher than ever before. After ten minutes they all went back indoors, of course they were heartbroken that their father, didn’t make it nor many of their friends, but they were so grateful to have one another.

“Nick! What are you doing!”
As he struck up the match the small light filled the gloomy, overcrowded room.
“Are you trying to get us killed? Put it out!”
The room returned to jet-black as the match was knocked from his hand and fell to the ground.
“Sorry, I was just wondering...” Nick trailed off, it was impossible to see his expression in the darkness.
“It’s all right, we understand.” Someone else said.
There was a noise outside, then silence within. Not a breath was drawn.
The noise shuffled away and everyone let out a slow breath of relief.
“That was too close Nick, why do you have to be so stupid! You know the rules!” was said in a sharp whisper.
We could all sense an argument starting and everyone made a muffled sound that was just recognisable as a groan.
“Soph, don’t start, nothing happened, it’s fine.” I said, Sophie had a fiery temper and if she wasn’t calmed down quickly things could get ugly.
“Rebecca, you can’t be serious! You heard that thing out there, what if it had been there a few seconds earlier? We could have been caught!”
“Yes, but it wasn’t and it’s gone now, but if you want it to come back keep this up!”
There was no reply, I could tell that she was pissed off but at least she’d shut up.

It was quiet for a long while after that, nobody had anything to say and as a general-rule we had decided not to speak unless there was something important to say.
Then a loud scratching noise was heard outside followed by a deafening crash. Everyone froze. We could hear footsteps coming towards the door. Nobody breathed. The door handle began to shake. Someone grabbed my arm with their hands and buried their head. Then the handle began to turn and it forced its way through the doorway. Light poured in, momentarily blinding our unadjusted eyes, then I could make out a silhouette of a man. The intruder was pulled to the floor and the door swung shut.
“Who are you? Why are you here? What are you doing!” There was a loud ripping sound as the invader’s clothes wear torn.
“Just checking for bugs” came the reply.
There was a huge commotion as the struggle ensued, eventually they finished their frisking and things calmed down a little.
“He’s clear.”
“Thanks Jake, sorry for all that but you can’t be to careful you know.”
“Yeah, but...”
“No, we’re gonna ask you some questions first if you don’t mind.”
Sophie took the silence as a submission, then proceeded.
“What were you doing here?”
“I was looking.”
“Looking for what?”
“Nothing just looking, looking for the sake of looking, to see if there was anything to find you know?”
“Don’t give me that crap! Nobody just goes out these days, unless they’re trying to get themselves killed.”
“What does it matter to you why I was out anyway? I was out okay! The real question is what are you lot doing in here? It’s a wonder they haven’t found you yet!”
“Shh! Or they will! We’ve been here a while, we know how to stay undetected. Just tell us what you were doing out there!”
“I’ve told you! I was just having a rummage, I’m not stupid I know how to stay undetected too!”
“Oh really is that what that crashing was, you being inconspicuous?”
“I misplaced my footing okay! But there was no one around, nothing heard me!”
“We did, scared us half to death!”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Of course she had known what he had meant, that was just Sophie, being difficult as usual.
“What’s your name?” I asked
“Axel Imler.”
“Were you with anyone else?”
“No.”
“Where are you staying?”
“Around, we move about, can’t stay in the same place to long, you know?”
“We?”
“Me and my sister, our parents were killed when...”
“I’m sorry to hear that, we’ve all suffered our losses here. What brought you to this area?”
“They’d started coming around our old place a lot recently, we thought we’d make a move before they could get around to doing a scan.”
“Where’s your sister now then?”
“Hidden. She should be safe for now but you have to let me get back to her, she’ll get herself killed if she thinks anything has happened to me!”
“Jake get him a jacket, by the sound of that “search” there isn’t much left of his.”
“Rebecca! What are you doing! We can’t let him go just like that!”
“Oh really what do you propose we do then Sophie? His sister is out there, do you want to be held responsible for anything happening to her?”
“Are you honestly turning this on me! How do you even know he’s telling the truth, he didn’t even mention her until now!”
“I don’t know if he’s telling the truth or not but what trouble is he going to cause us? Are you trying to say he’s working for them or something? I don’t think they’ve done collaborations like that before.”
“Then who’s to say they won’t? You can’t let him go Becca!”
“He’s going Soph, and that’s that. Jake a coat.”
There was a rustle of fabric as the jacket was passed to Axel.
“Really I’m okay, You keep it, I have clothes back with Ally.”
“No, you need it, you’ll freeze out there.”
“Fine.” More rustling.
“Axel?” came a voice from the corner.
“Um yes?”
“Will you and your sister be okay? You could come back here?”
There was silence but we were all really waiting for Sophie’s explosion. But there was nothing.
“Thanks but we’ll be fine, really”
There was more rustling as he stood to leave.
“Thanks for the jacket, I'll try to get it back to you.”
“Don’t worry about it, but if you need anything we’re here.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks again for the jacket.”
With that he opened the door and left. We listened for a while but it was silent.
Then things got loud.
“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU PLAYING AT! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE! Oh Axel have my jacket, I love you, HAVE MY BABIES!”
“Soph calm down, I...”
“No, Rebecca I will not calm down! You have no idea who that guy was and you just let him go! He knows where we are Rebecca! Who knows what could happen! What if he gets caught on his way back and they scan him! They’ll find us Rebecca!”
“He won’t be caught you heard how quiet it was when he left, he’ll be fine, we’ll be fine.”
“YOU DON’T KNOW THAT! And as for you Rose! WHAT KINDA SHIT WERE YOU TRYING TO PULL! You can stay here if you want Axel, YOU TWO MAKE ME SICK!”
“Sophie! Calm down now! If you don’t all you’re going to succeed in doing is getting us found! Stop, now.”
“BUT REBECCA!”
“Now!”
She stopped, but it was too late, this time there was definitely something out there, and it wasn’t Axel. A sinister clicking noise swarmed the air. They were here.
The air in the stuffy room chilled. If we thought we had known the meaning of true fear before we were now proved wrong. Then a bright white light seeped through the cracks in the door. The door opened again and we all knew this was it. A tall lean figure stood in the doorway. At first glance it might just look like any of us, but when you see them, those harsh soulless eyes, you know that all traces of humanity are gone.
The black eyes stared into the room, examining our faces.
“It’s okay,” it said, “you’re safe now.”
Then it was black again.

It all started before I was born, the war I mean. I am now 13. My father is dead and my mother is very ill. My mother said before the war that father worked for the government and was very important. That’s the reason why our family was saved. There is not space down in the tunnels for everyone. Nobody can leave the tunnels or they will die from the radiation. When the war started the big metal doors where shut for the last time.
The war started in 2013; it was between Russia and the USA. Britain had to side with America, well so my father said. My father told me everything, mother protested saying that I was too young. But that was when he was falling ill and I think he wanted to tell me himself. I sat beside his bed while he told me the stories. He struggled because of the fits of coughing and sometimes he would pass out and sleep for ages. At the beginning it was mayhem. When the first missile was fired everyone panicked, every country that had nuclear war heads fired them. There were a lot of survivors. Not everyone was killed strait away. We were rushed into the tunnels which father told me used to be used for trains under the city. Father told me how helpless he felt hearing the cries of the people outside, they started off shouting for help, but they turned into terrified screams.
I have spent my whole life down in these tunnels. I know every inch of them, I used to love explore them when I was little. There is no privacy in the tunnel, it is split into rooms, but you are never really alone. Apart from my place, nobody on the world knows about it apart from me. When I am sad I go here so I can be alone. The little whole in the corner leads to a small room. The room feel different, colder and there is a funny smell. There is a small grate leading into a small shaft, it is small and cramped but if I go on my knees I can fit through. There is no light down here but I have my head torch, everyone has to have one so if the generators cut out people can see. The grate comes of easily. The screws have rusted and I can use my fingers to get them out.
Then shaft floor is cold and it hurts my knees but I keep on going. It takes me up and down and sometimes I have gone on my chest to squeeze through. The silence is defining. But when think I hear something I freeze staring ahead, nothing but my breathing breaks the silence, but there it is again a scratching noise. Rats? No it can’t be no rat makes that much noise. It faded away; I stayed still for what seemed like ages. I did not know if I should go on. Well that question was answered form me. I could not turn around or go back, so I had to go on. I crawled up, the tunnel got colder and colder. Suddenly I forced myself round corner and there was light coming in from an opening, there was a piece of corrugated iron covering the opening. I crawled up to it and put my hand up against the metal, it was cold and ruff on my skin. I breathed in and pushed the iron sheet away from me, it dell on the floor with a loud crash that echoed around, I panicked and forced myself back in the tunnel. The noise seemed to last for ages. It finally stopped; I sat in silence for a while. There was a strange noise coming from the opening, it was like someone had left a tap on and water was overflowing onto the floor. But it was loud. I crawled out from the opening, brushed myself down and walked back in. I looked around the room, there was nothing in it apart from a pile of rubble in the corner the door was gone, and there was no glass in the one window. A gray light was coming from the door and window. Water was falling from above. I walked to the doorway and looked outside; there was an empty street with rubbish everywhere cars were burnt out and rusting in the road.
I held out my hand to catch the water, I remember father telling me about rain but I never thought I would ever see it. I stepped out and let the rain soak me. I was scared, I have never been in such an open place before, and I felt too exposed. Suddenly I had the feeling that of not being alone. I looked to my left and round the street and saw a man walking down the road, he was wearing nothing on his top half, his white skin was blackened and looked burnt and he was only wearing rags on his legs. I gasped as he had sacred me, but I put my hand over mouth to stop me from making ant noise. He slowly turned around and looked straight at me. Staring at me his eye boring into me, without warning he ripped his head back and let out a terrible scream. I ran back towards the tunnel and crawled in, and pulled the iron sheet over the opening. Other screams had joined in now the sound was terrible and ripped through me. As I was crawling back down the tunnel the iron sheet was ripped off, I looked back and saw a figure crouching looking at me, his light green eyes staring straight into mine. Suddenly the high pitched scream filed the tunnel, there tears were streaming down my face as I scrabbled as fast as I could over rocks and deeper the shaft towards the tunnel’s. As I got deeper the screaming faded, the only sound was me, and my frightened gasps broke the silence.
So here I am now back in the small room, probably nobody has even notice I have been gone. My knees are against my chest as I huddle in the opposite corner of the shaft entrance, I am shaking uncontrollably the tears are rolling down my face and onto my filthy shirt. I am sobbing loudly. But I know nobody will hear me

All in the Past

Just keep running, don't stop, you can't stop, keep going.....
******
Next thing I knew I was awake, lying on a pile of rubble with empty space stretching out in front of me. I knew something had happened, but couldn’t for the life of me remember what (amnesia the doctors are calling it, but I know there’s something they’re not telling me). I tried calling out for help but either no-one heard me or there was no-one to hear. When I realised that wasn’t working I tried to get up. As soon as I did I wished I hadn’t. Something must have fallen on my leg and as I now looked at it I saw that it was bent in a way which can only be described as wrong. It was then that I decided to take a look at my surroundings. Everything that I knew should be around me wasn’t. Huge piles of rubble everywhere I looked, destruction wherever I turned. I must’ve blinked a hundred-and-one times, trying to make myself wake up from what I thought was a bad dream. When that didn’t work I pinched myself, then banged my head against god knows what for good measure, but to no avail. Finally I had to accept that this was real.
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I'm in the hospital at the moment. Everyone rushes but time goes so slowly. I still can't talk, something to do with shock apparently, but I'm still no closer to finding out what happened. Sometimes a group of doctors stand at the end of my bed and start whispering and I wish I knew what they were saying (my hearings not so hot either). When I say a group of doctors, I mean three. I'm in a make-shift ward with four other people, plus those three doctors. I don't know what to make of it. We can't be the only people here, it’s not possible. Either that or it’s some sort of weird purgatory or someone’s sick joke of hell. Though deep down I know, I know that I'm still alive.
******
I came to in what appeared to be some sort of trench with someone sitting either side of me. I tried to speak, but I couldn’t (that’s when I worked out why no-one heard me shouting). Then a man came up to me and I could see his mouth moving but couldn’t hear him. Then slowly I started to make out what he was saying, “We are going to take you to the doctors, they will look after you. Everything’s going to be fine.”
******
Back to how bad my life is now. After that trench thing they brought me here. I’ve been here for four days now. One of the doctors feeds me at what I assume are meals times, but I always fall asleep straight after, so I'm trying not to eat. The doctors are at the foot of my bed now and I'm pretending to be asleep... No, they can't be serious!? The only survivors?! Of what? Uh-oh, increase in heartbeat, the machine is making a noise. One of them is by my bed now, Dr. Maison. He’s telling me to “quit panicking” and “try to calm down”. How can I calm down when I just heard him saying that we, the seven of us are the only people left in the whole of London?! Wait no, no more needles....
******
My bed seems to have moved. I can't see anyone else. Am I in isolation? Hold on a second, I'm at home. How? It was destroyed, they told me so. I can hear the big clock downstairs chiming once, twice, three times. It must be the afternoon because I think I can hear people
Ellie Moran

outside, but it’s dark... That’s the doorbell ringing. I sit myself up and get out of... OWW! Suddenly everything is dark. I'm in some sort of hole and there is a ledge which I must’ve been sleeping on and have now fallen off. Bloody hell. My leg hurts, the pain is almost unbearable. Have to think of good things, like sunshine, big green tree, home, food. Oh God food, now I'm hungry. There’s a sort of scratching noise coming from somewhere. I look around but it’s too dark to be able to see very far. Then “Hold on, we’re coming!” I see a face coming towards me, a man’s face. He asks me if there are any others with me as he tries to help me to my feet. I shake my head and try to signal to him not to let me go, but he doesn’t understand. He must think I mean there’s no-one else around here. I nod my head vigorously. He seems confused.
“Are you alone?”
I make a face that says sort of.
“Is there anyone else here?”
I shake my head.
“Where did you come from? Can you take us there?”
I shrug my shoulders and shake my head. Eventually he realises this way of communication isn’t working.
“Come with me, we will look after you.”
I’ve heard that one before; I jerk my arm away from him to let him know that.
“Take it easy big guy, I won't hurt you. I give you my word.”
I look into his face, and he seems to be telling the truth. Also, I have a choice; I can stay here in this hole and wait for the doctors to remember that I'm here, or I can go with these people I don't really know but seem nice enough, and they did rescue me. I give the man my arm and nod.
“Alright then, here we go. Alan, come and give us a hand.”
Another face appears out of the gloom and together they half drag, half carry me through some sort of hole in the wall which I assume they made. I try to stay awake and remember all the turns they make through the tunnel, but my head hurts and my leg hurts and I'm tired and eventually I pass out and know no more.
******
“I think we found this one just in time Mag’s, he’s weak.”
“Do you think he could’ve caught the virus? That’s why they leave them in the holes, in hope that there is still a bit of the virus left.”
“What virus?”
I can't believe it. Did those words just come out of my own mouth?! Thank God for that.
“Don't worry about it lovey,” says Mags. “It’s all in the past.”

But it’s not, I know that now. The world as I know it may be in the past, but the future is a whole different story. Everything happens for a reason, maybe one day I’ll find out what happened, and why it happened. But for today, I'm happy knowing that I'm alive, and someone cares.

Wasteland

The beam of light shone on the grizzly man, highlighting scattering partials as he stirred. Slowly he struggled up and raised his hands to the hands in a yawn as the birds on the makeshift sill tweeted madly. His bare feet slapped against the trampled earth floor as he made his way to the fridge. Hoisting up his loose jeans as one of the many tins of fruit met a speedy end.
A chap chap at the door brought the man to his senses after listening to the anolog radio playing wasteland FM.
“Hello?” and in walked a man of similar size and build but entirely bald and with large burns due to his proximity to a blast.
“Mike, nice to see you.”
“You too, Rick. You coming for a scavenge?” asked Mike gesturing with a military spec weapon, retrieved from one of their earlier endeavours. With a nod Rick packed up his gear and they headed out.
The wind was always the first thing to hit them as they stepped outside. This swirling torrent of turbulence had been an everyday occurrence since the impact. Due to this the surface soil was kept up suspended whizzing like mosquitos through the air. This meant that any working cars were silvery as the paint had been stripped off. The pair quickly put on goggles and mounted their quad bikes.
They travelled over the rolling dunes that had created large valleys as the new wind had shaped them taller than normal. It also kept the sand moving and the dunes are for ever moving. This means a long voyage was never a good idea. As the duo pulled into a barren town they shook themselves off and kicked down the door closest to them. There was the normal unusual calm as the entered the undisturbed abode which was then hit by the fury of the weather and two men who will ransack the place just to survive. The kitchen was always the first place to be raided as food was of the greatest importance.
“Lovely” exclaimed rick as he opens a cabinet and a dozen bottles of well-aged whiskey lay there.
“That’ll do us nicely for the evening”, Mike rightened the table and opened a bottle for a celebratory drink or two. Or eight as it turned out to be.
“Crap” yelled Mike looking out the window. The sun had dipped over the horizon and the night was on its way. There was a pause as time seemed to slow as the sudden occurrence of their foolishness began to sink in.
They leapt up, panicked, knocking over glasses and tables. With no light the mighty dunes would be impossible to navigate. There was a mad scramble for the gear and the quads. The fear began to set in and they were conscious of everything; the lashing of the sand like bullets; the cold, chilling them to the bone like the devil himself and the darkness penetrating the team like a pair of eyes. Then on the horizon like a beacon of hope guiding thee questionable wise men home as the town beacon shone like a light house knocking back the evil of night. Mike’s muscles eased as the worry and fear melted away from him as they trundled through the heavy iron gates holding back the elements. He looked over at his comrade, they thought the same thing, they were safe.

Roadrunner

Roadrunner, sprinting off down the beaten track, dirt flying
mixing earth with air,
a smashing of bright colours in a red land.
With a red sun, and a red light.
Alive.

Racing between the canyons, nature’s bullet, blinding speed
no limits, no thoughts
scarring the vibrancy of the crushed earth
under the brilliance of the mid-day light.
Free.

Always running, never resting, never thinking, never feeling, never knowing
a life of ignorant tranquillity.
Dusk breathes its blue smudges, relaxing the angry desert
shadows lengthen and the rocks breathe a sigh of relief.
Mortal.

The end of the day, still roadrunner runs on.
The moon acknowledges his task by throwing beautiful rays across the night sky.
The path ahead is growing short, but there is no fear.
For in life there are no regrets for the roadrunner.
Peace.

Bad News

Hundreds of salt-less tears
Running, rolling
Tripping, falling
Down my window pane.

They blur my bedroom’s eye
Speckle the light
Which tries in vain
To warm the inside walls.

When the sun is concealed
The white darkens
And the room is left damp grey,
Within I’m drowning dry,

Under the weight of bad news .
My mind is alone;
While my body slowly breathes,
I suffocate inside.

1462

Death is unstoppable-
It never fails to free
-Controlling passion for us now
It will never be seen

The long and slow dread
Death is so wrong,-
But conveys so much power
Unforgettable

Silent but deadly
It creeps through the air
Controlling our minds
Messing up our hair

Death is now near
Approaching within our souls
It tends to be forgotten
But is never lost

The Death of Hope

Death, the burst of a balloon
What’s left fragments of gloom
Like ash they fall from the sky
From where meanings mean nigh.

We sweep the pile
Dust that was once hope
Now turned aggressively vile
Like the stench of dead antelope.

Beyond, gone from our grasp
Unreachable, yet so close
It taunts while we gasp
For what causes these woes.

I still awake every night
Memories of those days
Unable to rid them
Due to their powerful ways.

The pass over

Breaking roots, creaking leather-realisation-
-sticky- confident siblings smiles
Who’ve been there, done that -a brighter light-
leaves laughing,gravel doles.

the road ahead-good or bad-
shady fuzz, popping air-closing door-
secret contours-fake to the object-
sweet yet sour, fear

the openness of mind-if only-
thoughts, overpowering,
-vinegar- assembled -spiteful-
yet waiting.

Won’t be long

Rain swoops down upon the hearth,
Smoke – it fills the room,
Rain, it smarts like icy knives,
Smoke - breath stopped short.

The trees grow green and Bright –
a luminescent glow,
but smoke still hovers – mingles
air and breath still slow.

Walk along that sodden path
Dotted with birds and bees –
No mental torment they have suffered
But I – breath still without ease.

Thick black clouds of pain and grief,
They coarse and throb my mind
Weight – a burden and oppression –
Won’t be long. It won’t.

Something called

Something called
Robin fly – little wing -
Not fast enough.
Berries frozen green, Grey
not white – white
not blue -

A cold warm
Heated cold –
Blinded –
Confused air -
No air – just nothing
Blinded remember.

Odd they look
Bare - no skin
No Christ - no mass
Something called winter ‘Wonderland’

No wonder
Just land – just land
Desolate. Blank.

666

Dormant- it lies… Stalking prey
Strong, calm-targeting the Mind
The paralysing Venom Slays
Pounce Brutal-swiftly timed.
Fights away Hope-Strength Superior
Cocoons the carcas-devishly devouring,
Stop-wary of a plethora
It leaves…Damage done-taste souring
Gently-drifting-away, leaving memory
A lingering souvenir of the Fear
Ecstatic green acidic scent
Bitter taste, high pitched jeers-
Mental scars-weak and thin
To be re-opened at any time
A Brutal Submission, dry throat, moist skin
As Fear leaves the Mind Blind

Brae face

The sky was rude-
When I opened my eyes
Lying there belly up-
Chocking- sweet turned bitter in my mouth

The screeching silence- went on and then-
Stopped- heaven was truly lost-
Grey blobs replaced the brilliant rose cheeks-
Shivering blood drops pooled at each thorn -
And seagulls circled – I had hit my head-

The warm furry feeling of utter content

The warm furry feeling of utter content
On a lazy summer afternoon-
Like the gentle pink haze of the sun Which Kisses
a welcoming cheek, through the transparency of man-made machinery.
Peace and happiness merge together –
A gentle hum like the whisper of wheels.
The smell of rain on thirsty dust, a delicacy to my schnozzle
The soothing sound of simple words is a lullaby –
It harmonizes with the gentle song of windscreen wipers

Dickinson Pastiche 3

42

Trickling grains- course and parched
They fell, silently – on each other
Desperately burying down-
Reflecting broken shattered rays
The topmost are mourning-
Trying to prolong the inevitable
In doing so- they neglect what really matters
Worrying about what could be

‘Tis a conflict of emotions-
while time kills some
Excitement fuels others
Until death do them part
The fear-feeds off many
Death leads them astray
But when the last grain falls-
The glass turns and the cycle begins, again

The End

It was two easters ago
In school, me-
And him.

Walls-sofa-tv
Talking, crying-
Talking, crying
Drained and distraught-

Like a sickly green, sharp-
But jelly-like
Silence, taste of bitter perfume
Mould-
Like food past it’s sell-by date.

The end was coming, the end-
Was near, the end-
Came-

Emily Dickinson Pastiche 2

16

Hell’s Mouth opened-
As I reached out-
To touch not The Heavens-
But this work of Art-

The taste of poison-
Strong like the wind
I pray to carry me-
Far, far from this land

Yet something moves distant-
A shadow far between-
All my love of earth-
And Satan’s own decree-

Hearts all around me-
Digging their own Grave-
Whilst in the Heartland-
Glad to be alive-

Emily Dickinson Pastiche 1

623
The realisation of something lost-
Like a pause in empty conversation-
Like a shaded pool
With no depth-

And then-
There are only cobwebs in your mind-
Dusty, indistinct, a call from far faraway
Everything throwing amethyst shadows-

Is time a luxury?
Moment’s drag-
And hours have no minutes
No seconds-

As if a piece of your soul was chipped away-
But if every chip was a brick of courage
And sorrow was your mortar, hope your foundations
You will be restored-