So, hey, I'm back x)
My power was gone for the past week. It was utter fucking hell.
But I'm here now...so enjoy the chapter ;D
Also, thanks to the people who reviewed!
CHAPTER 2: Coming Down like an Armageddon Flame
December 21, 2012
A Carnival Cruise Ship, off the Coast of California
5:14 AM
Lacey woke up in the middle of the night, disoriented. Her room tilted slightly with the waves, and although the rocking was calming, she frantically kicked the sheets away from her overheated body. The cruise ship bragged a state-of-the-art ventilation system that kept the cabins at a perfect seventy degrees, but her room was stifling.
Quickly, Lacey stood up and slipped a t-shirt over her pajamas. Easing the door open so she wouldn't wake Hannah, she tiptoed into the hallway.
Lacey wasn't sure if she was allowed to be on the deck at this time of night, but she'd never been one for rules anyway. She pushed open the double glass doors and was met with a cool breeze. That was all the convincing she needed to step out onto the empty prow of the ship, her bare feet hot against the wood.
The first thing she noticed was that there was no breeze as she'd originally thought, and the outside was almost as hot as the inside of the ship. The second thing was that the boat was pitching and tipping violently, something she hadn't been able to notice much anymore. And lastly, the far-off coast was emitting an odd glow. It was not the normal stark white of the city, but an intense red-orange that seemed to flicker as she watched.
The girl walked closer to the railing, her nightgown blowing slightly in the warm wind, to get a better look at the phenomenon. The shore was definitely glowing in an odd way Lacey hadn't seen before. The reflection danced on the water, turning the surface the color of liquid fire.
Lacey watched the illuminated horizon, fascinated, for a full minute. She couldn't think of an explanation for it.
Then, with a jolt, Lacey was thrown to the floor of the deck. Confused, she looked for an attacker, to find there was none.
Voices rose inside the ship as lights began to flip on. Lacey could hear confused conversations drift through the portholes, before the ship bucked again, and her head slammed painfully against the railing. Screams rose inside the cabin.
In shock, Lacey lifted a hand to the side of her head to feel something wet in her tangled hair. She pulled it away to find her fingers coated in a sticky red substance.
Suddenly woozy, the girl attempted to pull herself up to lean against the railing, but her head exploded in a burst of pain. She fell back, hitting the deck once again. The girl's last thought before she blacked was that the world was on fire.
Ballington Plaza Apartments, Central East Los Angeles
7:44 AM
Mike awoke to the sound of a blaring horn. He sat straight up in bed, snatching blindly for the alarm clock.
"Turn it off…" Rob grumbled next to him, burying his head under his pillow.
Mike punched the off button on the clock, and then pressed it again. The wailing siren didn't stop.
"Dude, it's not the clock." Mike grabbed Rob's shoulder and shook him.
Slowly, Rob lifter the pillow, peering at Mike tiredly. "Then what is it?"
"I don't"—at that moment, Brad came skidding into their room. His face was red.
"Get up," he yelled. "Get up!"
"Huh? Dude, what"—Rob began to groan.
Brad rushed over and began to tug the other man out of bed. "We have to get out of the building! There's a fire a block away. We're evacuating!"
Mike's half-closed eyes popped fully open, and he threw the covers away. "How much time do we have?" he asked Brad frantically.
"Fifteen minutes," the younger man answered. "Phi and Joe have got the instruments, don't worry. Just pack!"
In a daze, Mike ran to his closet and began to throw random items of clothes into a duffel bag. Rob stumbled out of his bed and lurched towards the main room where Joe slept on the couch.
"Go get Joe and Phi's clothes!" Mike barked at Brad, throwing him one of their ratty suitcases. When his bag was almost full and their closet was halfway emptied, he moved to his CD rack where he kept his most treasured possessions besides his guitar.
With the urgency of a madman, he emptied the music into his bag, cursing when he couldn't zip it completely. Almost savagely, he yanked the zipper and sighed in relief when it finally closed.
Mike ran out into the main room of their home. It looked like a madhouse. Rob was loading food into plastic grocery bags and Phoenix and Joe were attempting to fit a disassembled drum kit through the door.
"Go load stuff…in the car!" Joe huffed as he rolled the bass drum towards the elevator. "Brad's…with the other instruments. Hurry!"
Heart racing, Mike flew down the seven flights of stairs. As long as the instruments are safe, he told himself. As long as we're safe, and they're safe.
Just save the music, Mike. It's all that matters.
Mount Lee, Santa Monica Mountains, Los Angeles
4:49 AM
"This…is…the worst…thing…I've ever done…in my life," Ray puffed, heaving himself over the edge of the ridge.
Below him, Frank grabbed wildly for a handhold, before Gerard grasped his arm and tugged him up too. The four boys collapsed against the hill, three exhausted and one with a massive, satisfied grin adorning his face.
"That was…" Gerard leaned back, his hands behind his head.
"Exhausting?" Frank asked.
"Stupid?" Ray supplied.
"Dangerous and possibly deadly?" Mikey suggested.
Gerard closed his eyes blissfully. "Awesome," he finished.
Mikey rolled his eyes and cracked open a beer. "Since we're up here, I guess we might as well enjoy it." He leaned back and took a long swig, observing the valley. "And the view is gorgeous," he admitted.
Frank looked across the boys' home, watching the bright lights of the city. He focused on an unusually lit portion of the landscape, zeroing in on a reddish-orange glow.
"What's that?" he asked, pointing to the spot.
"Hm?"Gerard glanced at the area, then rubbed his eyes and looked again, harder. "Whoa," he whispered almost reverently.
"What is it?" Setting down their beer cans, Mikey and Ray looked toward the spot, too.
"I don't believe it," Gerard breathed, his grin growing wider.
Mikey sighed exasperatedly. "Fill us in!"
"It's on fire," he said. "Los Angeles is on fire."
A silence fell across the four boys as they considered the idea.
Finally, Mikey shook his head. "I don't think…"
"It's true, Mikey," Gerard insisted eagerly. "Think how hot it's been these past few days. We haven't had rain in weeks. Everything's dried out—the city's basically a big pile of kindling." He laughed darkly. "Plus, it's December the twenty-first. Isn't this the reason we're here?"
The teenage boy was surprised how almost glad he was to watch the flames. It was exactly as he had imagined in his mind, and he was savagely happy he could be there to watch how his world ended.
A Deserted Warehouse, the Mojave Desert
7:58 AM
"Home sweet home." Billie turned the ignition off and swept a hand towards the towering building.
It was larger than the men had remembered. The corrugated gray sides were painted and graffitied, but it was just as they'd left it.
They had gotten slightly sidetracked that night, pausing at a broken-down motel to catch a few hours of sleep before beginning their drive again at six that morning. But at last they had arrived.
"Great," grumbled Tré. "Can we go home now?"
"Aww, where's your sense of adventure?" Billie slugged Tré's arm playfully. "You're not getting out of this one!"
Billie led the other two men to the wide double doors. Once, they had been padlocked closed, but the chains had rusted and fallen apart with age. Simultaneously, the three pushed on the heavy doors, and with a creak and a rush of stale air they swung open.
They were met with a massive, empty room with a high ceiling at least fifty feet above their heads. A railing spanned the edge of the space about two thirds of the way up the wall, signifying the second floor rooms hidden out of sight.
Mike whistled. The note echoed through the cavernous room, ringing and hollow. He took a step inside.
"I forgot how big this place is," he commented, turning back to his friends. "This could fit, what—fifty people living here?"
"At least seventy," Billie wagered.
"Well, we've got three guys and a load of shit we still need to drag in here," Tré reminded them.
The three men walked back out to their car, where the radio was still playing. The music had turned off, and Billie faintly heard the words 'Emergency Announcement' over Tré and Mike's loud conversation.
"What?" Billie muttered. He shushed his friends so that the radio was the only sound in the dry, empty desert.
The radio crackled and buzzed before spitting out 'Evacuating Los Angeles City and surrounding areas due to fires.'
Billie's jaw dropped.
'Repeat: Evacuating Los Angeles City and surrounding areas due to fires.'
"You don't"—Tré began, but Billie and Mike made frantic 'quiet' motions.
"Evacuating San Francisco and surrounding areas due to earthquakes. Evacuating Sacramento and surrounding areas due to flooding. Evacuating Anaheim and surrounding areas due to earthquakes…"
The end of the world had come.
Edgar Wesley-Moran Academy, Beverly Hills, California
11:56 AM
Hayley smirked as the heavy wooden door swung shut behind her. She took a step inside the small washroom, breathing in the acrid scent of smoke and the thin, clean veil of air freshener that tried to mask it.
She, the troublemaker, the daredevil, had never yet been into the opposite gender's bathroom. It was completely new to her.
Fascinated, she ventured farther in. It was much like its' female counterpart, and Hayley found herself almost disappointed that there were no boys that could possibly cause trouble for her. Nonetheless, she decided to stay a few minutes, thrilled with the novelty of it.
She had barely been in the room a minute when a loud alarm began to blare. Hayley sighed dramatically, annoyed. Fire drills were a common occurrence at her school. It had probably been one of the eighth-graders smoking in the bathrooms again.
The young girl was struck with a sudden flash of inspiration. Nobody knew where she was, save a few friends, and they would never tell anyone…why not skip the drill entirely? No one would even care…
Hayley leaned against a tiled wall in between two sinks, sliding her back down until she hit the floor. The siren was beginning to infuriate her. It was getting inside her head, boring deep down into her brain. Plus, the acrid, smoky scent was becoming stronger.
Suddenly, Hayley's idea didn't seem so exciting anymore. The small bathroom was too hot, too stuffy. She needed air—now.
Quickly, she raised herself from the floor and opened the bathroom door, stepping out into the hallway. It was completely deserted.
'When did it get so hot in here?' Hayley wondered absently, turning left into a new hallway that led towards the center of the school. To her surprise, the air didn't get any cleaner—indeed, it smelled even smokier than her previous location.
Her thoughts scattered as she continued to walk. Vaguely, she wondered where everyone was, but her mind was mostly occupied with the impending winter vacation.
Rounding another corner, Hayley thought she might stop by the nurse's for an Aspirin—she was developing a sudden cough from the odd air—but the hallway was blocked.
Hayley rubbed her eyes, positive she was hallucinating. But it was there—the solid wall of smoke hanging across the hallway.
And then she saw the flames.
Tongues of orange fire licked out towards her, blasting her with heat. Shocked, Hayley watched as a small flame licked her school-issued skirt. The heat burned through to her bare skin.
The pain snapped her out of her daze, and Hayley ran, screaming. The fire was everywhere. She tried every hallway to the outside, lastly the one she had come through barely fifteen minutes before. The fire had spread through the classrooms to obstruct it too.
The young girl was left facing the truth. She was trapped in a ring of deadly flames, and there was no way out.
Hayley Williams was going to die.
Terry's House, the Edge of California
5:54 AM
By the time Terry got back to his cottage, he was completely soaked. The waves had picked up, battering his boat and occasionally washing over the deck itself. A heavy rain had begun to fall halfway through his journey home, and he could see the first cracks of white lightning in the distance.
Shivering, the man quickly secured his boat and ran inside, shedding his sopping raincoat. He had never been gladder for his warm, safe home.
Terry turned on the teakettle and went to stand in front of the large window that formed most of the back wall. He could hardly see anything through the driving rain except for a bright spot far out on the horizon.
"A boat?" he wondered to himself. But what boat would be out in this weather?
Terry watched the boat while he waited for the water to boil. It didn't seem to move. He decided it was most likely a cargo boat, and that it wasn't bothered by the storm. Shaking all thoughts of the weather from his mind, he stretched out on the couch with his cup of coffee and relaxed, listening to the marine report radio.
The Bennington Residence, Westchester, Los Angeles, California
2:43 AM
"Shh, shh, darling." Chester held his shaking girlfriend in his arms. "It'll be okay. We're okay. We're safe, darling, you're safe."
Amy whimpered quietly. She trembled against Chester's body, her eyes shut tightly and her face pressed against his bare chest. She breathed in the familiar scent of his skin. It calmed her slightly.
Chester rubbed her back, tracing small circles on the surface of her worn t-shirt. He felt her shivers begin to lessen, and he held her closer to him.
He had known about Amy's intense fear of fire since they were in fifth grade and were just becoming friends. Their class had watched a video on fire safety, and she had begun to cry silently in the back of their darkened classroom. Chester had been the only one to notice. He held her hand, whispering jokes to her to distract her, and she had told him about the house fire she had been caught in when she was six. That was the day that they had started considering themselves best friends.
Amy finally stopped quivering. Chester pressed a kiss to the top of her head before releasing her, holding her at arms' length.
"You okay?" he asked softly, his brown eyes holding the gaze of her blue ones.
Amy nodded slightly, her long black hair shaking, and wrapped her arms around herself protectively.
"We're safer in here than anywhere else," he continued. "The fire can't be that big"—Lies, he thought to himself, the news show had said the fire was spreading to all of southern California—and it'll pass straight over us. We're in a concrete basement, Ames. Fire can't burn through concrete."
Amy leaned forward, letting dark sheets of hair obstruct her face from Chester's view. She mumbled something into her arm, and then looked back up at Chester. He was worried to see her eyes shining with unshed tears.
"Promise me we'll stay here all weekend," she said. "Promise."
Chester nodded, watching his girlfriend carefully to make sure she would be fine. "Just relax," he murmured soothingly. "Try to sleep, darling. I'll be back in a minute."
"Where are you going?" Amy's head jerked up.
"Nowhere," he reassured her. "Don't worry. Sleep."
Slowly, Amy lay back on the mattress. Her eyes fluttered closed, and her breathing became more regular.
Quietly, Chester stood up and climbed the stairs, cracking open the metal door. He didn't smell smoke.
He slipped through the doorway from the safety of the basement to the above-ground, wooden structure of the house. There were a few things he just couldn't let burn.
A Carnival Cruise Ship, off the Coast of California
6:17 AM
Lacey awoke to high-pitched screams. She found that she had been moved to one of the plastic deck chairs by the pool. Her head throbbed painfully with every heartbeat.
She staggered to her feet and over to one of the pretty young cruise assistants. The girl seemed to be lost, whipping her head this way and that, trying to keep up with all the passengers.
"'Scuse me?" Lacey tapped her on the shoulder.
The girl spun around quickly to face her.
"I'm gonna say this simply," the teenager said, still foggy from her accident. "What the fuck is going on?"
"I—excuse me?" the assistant stuttered. "I'm not sure—"
"What the fuck is going on?" Lacey demanded. "What are we supposed to do?"
"Th-the sea is stormy," she said unsteadily. "The captain is trying to st-steer us to sh-shore."
"The shore!" Lacey scoffed. "The shore"—she waved a hand expansively towards the far-off land—"is on fire, in case you haven't noticed."
The assistant gulped nervously. "S-so are we," she confessed.
"What?" Lacey glanced wildly around the frantic deck. It was out of control, but she couldn't see any signs of an immediate flame.
"The boiler room is burning. We are evacuating the ship in a calm and orderly manner." Her eyes had glazed over, giving her a dull, dead look.
Lacey nodded, raising an eyebrow. "Yep, calm and orderly. I see." At that moment, an older woman in a pink bathrobe and hair curlers ran past, screaming something about demons and aliens.
"Look, where are the lifeboats?" Lacey sighed. She would worry about her family later—right now she just needed to find the way off this boat.
"Lifeboats?" the girl snapped out of her daze suddenly. "What lifeboats?"
Lacey groaned. "Where...are…the goddamned…lifeboats?"
"I don't know! Do you? Do you know where they are?"she begged.
"No, you idiot!" Lacey snapped. "That's what I'm asking you!"
"None of us know," the girl confessed quickly. "They never told us. We've been looking for them too."
"Oh, fabulous!" Lacey threw her hands up into the air, accidentally grazing the side of her head. "Shit," she muttered, remembering her wound.
She stalked away from the unhelpful attendant, towards the edge of the boat. A large knot of adults stood there.
"When in doubt, ask your superiors," Lacey quoted under her breath. Resignedly, she joined the circle of serious-looking older men and women.
Phrases flew around her, terrifying words about 'abandoning ship' and 'swimming home.' Lacey wasn't noticed by anyone. All of the adults were far too focused on saving their own asses.
"We have to jump," a white-haired man claimed. "We have to—"
There was a loud wrenching sound, and the group turned in unison. They watched in horror as the deck of the boat split open, revealing swirling water crashing below them.
Ballington Plaza Apartments, Central East Los Angeles
8:03 AM
"Get in the car, motherfucker!" Phoenix growled. "You piece of—"
Brad rolled his eyes and grabbed the bag, shoving it into the back of the van unceremoniously. "No, you get in the car," he retorted. He pressed a quick kiss to Phoenix's lips before running around to the other side of the van.
"Ew, you guys!" Mike joked. "Get a room!"
In truth, Mike, Rob and Joe didn't mind Brad and Phoenix's open romance. It had been going on for nearly two years, almost as long as the band had existed. They had grown used to the occasional kisses during the day and odd noises coming from their bedroom at night.
With the five men and their belongings loaded into the band's black tour van, Rob floored the gas pedal and they spun out of the parking garage. "Where are we going?" he asked, his brow furrowed as he stared at the congested road.
"Out," Brad replied. "Just—out of Los Angeles."
"Follow the crowd," Joe suggested.
Rob spun the wheel, turning the van away from the main city and off to the east.
"Or not," Joe grumbled.
Mike twisted the radio dial till he found a news channel. "Fire continues to rapidly spread across Southern California," it crackled. "The city is being evacuated, although there is no sure safe place anywhere."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Rob muttered irritably, still focused intently on the road.
"The citizens are being told to make their way to Nevada, although scorching temperatures combined with a searing drought create a situation almost as desperate as ours. And don't even think about going north to Oregon or Washington—the long-dormant Yellowstone supervolcano exploded less than an hour ago. All life in the northwest United States has been exterminated."
Phoenix choked on a bagel.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please don't panic—but this really is the end of the world."