Screams and howls flooded my ears. Alarms reigned like hellfire in the night. Sirens accompanied by the most desperate cries surrounded me. Cries for help. Cries to end it. Looking back, it was inevitable. The information I received hours ago suddenly made sense. The corrupt system I lived to serve suddenly seemed a lot more corruptible and malleable. My stalwart trust was broken. Our glorious image of the People died within me. From that moment, it was no longer us, our, we; it was me, mine, I. I no longer wanted a part of this fraud. Not if it caused the deaths of people. Not when it could've been avoided. Easily avoided.
I knew graphite when I saw it. I knew the texture, the rough grain against my fingers. I was no dunce. Yet, those staff workers and the man himself deigned to call me unreliable. An unsophisticated liar with no respect for the field. What they so quickly forget is one simple, crucial thing: I studied the very object they fanatically defend. The idea they defended. I know its faults, its weaknesses. Who were they to tell me anything? The man running the test decided to run at very low power in order to conserve it. That in itself was idiotic. Did he understand energy at all? And the rods...
It was all a terrible calamity. An avoidable calamity. Which brings me back to the moment. The circumstances of the accident and of those leading up to it now made no difference. If I didn't fix it, it was my head. If they didn't fix it, we would all die. The hideous crackling of the little meter in my pocket served as a reminder. An everconstant vigilance I would need to upkeep. One I had to upkeep. For my sake, if not all of us. Countless heavy-duty vehicles and first-aid-response trucks invaded the scene, even now. It was a never-ending stream of motion. Above us, black smoke billowed with just a tinge of blue. A tinge of death. I retreived the meter from my pocket. It was given to me from one of the workers. It only went up to 3; a measly amount in such a situation. The number in this would overshoot 3 by a thousand kilometers! 3 would be a speck of dust! Was I the only one who knew what we were dealing with here? I pushed my spectacles up to their former position on the crest of my nose and inhaled deeply. Deeply and sickly.
"Anatoly, get all of the information you can from them, before we can't." I ordered bluntly. Anatoly was my faithful assistant. In his 4 years of toiling beneath me, he'd never done me wrong. If all the men in the world were like him, maybe we'd get somewhere. Certainly not in this mess, that was for sure. Regardless, I didn't want to loiter here. Not for risk of mine nor his health. Much better things were at stake now. Things I had to witness. To weigh in on and spectate.
"Yes, sir." He rushed off to do my bidding. I sat on an empty overturned cab and sighed. The clicking in my pocket simply refused to let up. It did no wonders to soothe my troubled mind. How much longer would do me in? I blinked and paced anxiously.
Men frantically scrambled in and out of the many buildings before me, much like a busy beehive. However, my laughable comparisons couldn't afford to do justice. The panic-strewn faces of my comrades was almost too much to bear. It was then, I knew, we would no longer busy ourselves here. The corpses on the ground nearby already told chilling narratives. Stretchers were being ran in and out and the men carrying them would inexplicably collapse and get up no more. More and more work was heaped onto fewer and fewer men. Yes, it was indeed time to depart.
As I collected my belongings and prepared to make my leave, I stopped and called out for Anatoly. No way I was going in that place! Outside was good enough. "Anatoly! Anatoly!" I raised my voice commandingly. My assistant failed to procure himself. My voice failed to separate itself from the crowds. Sirens and screams drowned me out. In my split moment of hesitation towards my dear colleague, a faint taste spread into my gums and mouth. A taste I was none too familiar with and simultaneously terrified of. The taste of metal. Pins and needles harrassed my being. It was the feeling of having a limb go to sleep after too much inactivity. A calming feeling, I suppose. Not here, not now. Calm was the last thing on my mind. Imminent death, however, was. The yells and overall sound in the background faded ceremoniously, to my fearful comfort. The clicking in my pocket even grew silent. How very remarkable.
I collapsed and knew no more.
Upon my wake, I found myself in a place far different than where I'd fallen. Trees were my neighbor and grass my relatives. What was this place? Where was I? I swept a hand through my hair in an effort to release some stress. I needed control of my situation. The sun beat down on me mockingly. I wasn't getting anywhere standing here boiling, now was I? I got up and began to try and get my bearings. I noticed some nearby firewood and twigs and gathered them laboriously. I hadn't done work like this in years. I jumped back with a yelp as my hands scraped the side of a log. Surely it wasn't that bad? I assessed the damage. To my shock, it was that bad and worse. Inflamed skin littered what was once known as my limbs. How could I have not noticed before? The dark hue reminded me of something. Something sinister and foreboding. Something painful. I made the harrowing decision to push through the pain and collect wood for a fire.
Brushing through my overalls for a lighter and some paper or likewise things of that nature, a sound in the lowering sun's meadow alerted me to nearby creatures in the vicinity. I needed shelter. Fast. I didn't know what was in these woods. Or what. I shambled without grace in search of a hollow or defendable place I could set up quickly. I wasn't sure if I was being followed or not, but I wasn't keen to turn and check over my shoulder.
I continued in one direction in order to avoid backtracking. The small twigs combined with the large branches served as a wonderful primitive grater with which my flesh offered itself as the ripe cheese.
That was okay. I would find solace in the fact that I would be safe and warm in time. Soon, I came across a stream. The stream led me to another stream, and following that a river. It was always good to stay by water. You could flush your scent and rid yourself of hostiles in an easy manner. The water bubbled happily beside me. It was nothing I'd ever seen before. The sight, sure. Geysers happened all the time. That was a matter of fact and nobody would be able to tell me different. But river-geysers? Geyers worked by mounting and building pressure in a small area on a certain substance. That was why the water shot up and was often warm or hot to the touch. The earth stimulated it to rise up and out. The small holes from where the water came made sense. This didn't. Not in the slightest. In a closer investigation, it appeared that there were no holes or points of entry into the ground from the riverbed. How could such a thing be? When my fingers skimmed the surface of the water, I found that it was bone-chillingly cold. No hole, no temperature. How stranger could it get?
I refused to work myself up anymore and resolved to visit the anomaly later. Such things existed in order to be tested and pushed past their limits. We would just see how a river imitated a geyser. We would just see.
The shortcoming of the bubbling river shaved off the miniscule remaining time I had left before dusk. It was readily apparent to the naked eye. I picked up my supplies and continued my blind pilgrimage. If only there was a man with one eye to show me the way...
I shuffled distantly. Howls made themselves known in the forest around me. Shrieks and whimpers answered these howls and the three became a natural symphony to terrorize my ears.
I picked up the pace. I had to find somewhere, quickly. If I couldn't, I'd make somewhere. In fact, that was what I'd do. I dumped the dead lumber at my feet and began to make fire. In times like these, the ancients used clay and rocks. Now, we used concrete and asphalt. Oh, how times changed. I took a deep breath and let it out.
The moon rose and dipped as I worked tirelessly on my new home. Temporary that it was, I had faith in my nonexistent abilities of crafting and hands-on appliance. I stacked logs from dead trees together and used high grass and thickets to tie it together. On the outside wall, I piled twigs and leaves for insulation. I left some holes for clay and glass later on, but the main things were finished. I had a back wall built up against the trunk of a tree. The thick leaves were my roof for the time being. Sleeping on the mushy earth did worry me about insects and minor troubles, I admit; still, I slept rather quickly and the new dawn came beautifully.
My body ached and troubled itself. I sucked in a breath of pain. Was this my new life? What had happened to Anatoly? To the trucks? To the disaster buildings and the cleanup crews? To any of it? What happened to Me?