A/N: TimeRiders doesn't belong to me.
CHAPTER THREE
Berlin, Germany, 2018
Peppa pressed her lips together, looking down the long table. This dinner- her birthday tea- was solemn. Everyone sat silently, picking at their chicken. All of them- her mother, father, sister, brothers, aunt, uncle and two cousins. Nobody spoke.
Silence.
As long as Peppa could remember, she had hated silence. With a passion. As far as she was concerned, a moment when nobody's lips were moving was a moment wasted. But, here... nobody spoke, and even she couldn't bring herself to break the silence.
They'd had it coming for years now, all of them. The whole world... But with the conformation of the loss of the polar icecaps, they had finally realised it.
They were doomed. They were all doomed... this place was a doomed world. And there was nothing, nothing, that they could do. And... Peppa hated taht. She liked doing something.
Then her mother broke the silence.
"Wine!" she called. "Bring the special wine... and let the children have some too."
Peppa was surprised as the waiter poured her glass. The Engles may have been a rich family, but they didn't like to splash out. So... why was she getting some of the most expensive wine her family owned?
At first she didn't drink it; the others downed it quickly. Her mother gave her a tight smile.
"Aren't you going to drink it, honey?" she asked. Peppa sighed, then nodded. She raised the glass to her lips and took a couple of sips. It tasted... funny. As if it had gone off. As Peppa looked up to ask her mother why, she realised something... her family were turning blue.
First their lips, then their fingers. It began to spread down their bodies, but they didn't seem to care. Then, one by one, they dropped dead at the table.
Peppa let out a cry of shock and jumped to her feet. She realised that her fingers were going blue at the tips also... and realised what this was. Mass suicide. They had spiked the wine. And everyone had agreed to it... but her.
She could sort of understand why; after all, at eleven years old, she was the youngest of the family. But still... she didn't want to die like this. And now... there was nothing to be done.
She began to feel dizzy and light-headed; with a groan, she sagged against the wall. One of the family had knocked their chair over; she could hear it falling into the grand fireplace, and setting alight. She supposed that the whole house would go up in flames... every memory of her would be destroyed.
She sobbed, tears falling in her face. The room smelt of burning wood, burning carpet, burning hair, burning flesh... She wanted to throw up. But the poison was slowly contaminating her... she was too weak to do anything but cry. The poison had killed the others quickly, in the space of a minute... but she had drank less of the wine.
"Peppa!" called a voice. "Peppa Engle!"
There was a man, kneeling before her. He held out a hand, his blue eyes welcoming.
"Are you- are you an angel?" she whispered. "Have you come to take me to heaven?"
"No," the man whispered. "I'm here to save your life... if you'll take my hand, Peppa." Peppa watched as he extended the hand.
"You can stop the poison?" she asked quietly. The man nodded.
"Take my hand, Peppa... I promise I'll save your life."
Too tired to argue, she slowly raised a shaking hand and grasped onto his. Then there was nothing; just plain blackness. And a sensation like falling...
Liar! she thought. You said you were going to save me...
Then consciousness failed her.