Aftershock
Author's note: I honestly wasn't expecting much from this story, but I guess you guys liked it. You're amazing! I got more requests than I thought possible, and I can't in good conscience let this story go unfinished. The wonderful people who reviewed it about two years ago I'm sure have forgotten about it, but I recently got a new review which made me decide to pull together the second chapter.
A few minutes earlier
I burst out of the hospital doors, taking in the breath of wind that greets my face and rustles my hair, telling me I'm free.
There may be dangers yet to come, but the hospital is no longer one of them. Gathering myself a little, I jog some paces more away from the doors, as if they could suddenly suck me in again.
The leaves of the autumn trees flanking the country parking lot rustle in the wind, and paired with the backdrop of intense grey sky, it gives off an eerie feeling that unsettles me, like even the trees know something isn't right.
The already dull sky is filling with angry, billowing black clouds, creeping swiftly across to shut out the light and lid the sky.
That's when more screaming draws my focus to the road.
If I had been paying attention during my speedy exit from the building, I would have heard the last of the sickening crunches that produced the scene now facing me.
Covering the street before me as far as I can see is a massive traffic accident; but it's no normal pileup. Why does my small town street suddenly look like some freak highway disaster on the news? Most of the cars have smashed into eachother, like they didn't have a way to stop. Some of them are smoking, making the already low visibilty worse, and in the distance a faint flickering whispers of fire ahead. The only vehicles still running look ancient, but with the amount of roadblocks in front of them, they have nowhere to go.
Most surprising of all in the far corner of the hospital parking lot is a downed helicopter, the crash of which must surely have contributed to the quake I felt as I exited the hospital. Its propellar is still spinning, churning up asphault and sparks.
Through the darkness brought on by the gathering clouds, one can make out people getting out of their cars and running, just as frantic as those in the hopsital.
I'm too distracted to think about my bike, but in this situation, it wouldn't help anyway.
By now the wind has gained a cold edge, biting into me so that I wrap my thin jacket tighter around my shoulders. I can't stay here any longer, I need to get home, and the object of my attention is my only path there. With that I set off, my skin tingling with almost a thrill of danger.
Darting across the parking lot and onto the road, I see that some cars have veered off into the sidewalk and that nowhere is there a straight path home.
What could've caused this? My road is usually so quiet.
Adjusting my near-empty backpack, I walk a little ways until I reach the car nearest me, which is empty, and start to pick my way from there.
As I move I squint, trying to get a glimpse of the sun, but I can hardly locate the place where, overcome by the clouds, it lurks, giving off only a little light.
Judging by the amount of vehicles piled up here, this accident must have been here for a while. But where are all the firetrucks and ambulances that should be here?
I haven't passed very many cars before I'm stopped by an eerie sight all too familiar.
Easy to see past an open car door is a pair of clothes, flat on the back of the seat with the seatbelt still over them. I shiver, running a hand along my arm as goosebumps form. Guess that answers my question about whether the hospital was the only place this happened, whatever "this" is.
Steeling myself, I move on, but as I weave my way through the mess of cars, only more of the same meets my searching gaze.
Some of the people who haven't run off approach me, or ask me questions, but I pretend not to see them, I pretend not to hear. Not my problem.
Once, I see a set of tiny baby clothes in a backseat. It makes me think of my own new baby sister at home. Suddenly I want to see her. I start to walk faster.
When I reach the intersection, it becomes clear that this is the source of the accident. The cars aren't just in lines here, they're in masses. To get through, I have to climb up over the hoods of some of the cars, careful not to slip.
Standing on one of them at a higher vantage point, the dark distance looks unfamiliar, strange flashing lights and illuminated smoke clouding eachother. I've lived in one spot my entire life, but now it doesn't even look like home. What is happening to me?
I hop down, empty backpack swinging to and fro on my shoulders, and up onto the next hood. The line of hills that wall in the valley where I live is almost indiscernable.
Suddenly, before I can get down, the ground starts to shake again, violently. Bits of glass and gravel begin to hop around on the road like falling raindrops.
I put my hands out, stumbling as I try to regain my balance, but the vehicle jolts and throws me forward, down onto the pavement. I roll over once when I hit the ground, and then for a moment, all I can do is lie still. I wince hard and squeeze my right arm, a silent cry of pain leaving my mouth as I roll onto my back and stare at the sky, the tremor metering out into stillness again. I don't wait too long before struggling up to make my way forward again, I can't waste time.
The atmosphere has begun to sink into me like a vapor from my surroundings, and I have this terrible feeling like if I don't get home in time, it'll be too late. But, too late for what?
Finally I'm through the intersection. Through the worst of it, right? I'm more than halfway home now, as I jog forward the cars are starting to thin out.
Through the chaos a sound reaches my ears, finding its' way into my troubled mind over the other sounds. It's a child, screaming for its' parents. I could almost mistake it for my own heart yelling at me, but it's coming from directly ahead.
White smoke, thicker than it has been, trails along the ground over the distance toward me, and a flittering orange light dances at the heart of it, further ahead.
I press on, but entering the enveloping smoke ahead causes me to cough.
It stings when I blink, but before me I can make out a head-on collision between two SUVs. The one nearer me is burning, the source of the strange lights, and both windshields are shattered. Curious, I draw closer.
A small figure stands between me and the crash. As I get nearer, I can see that it's a little, sandy haired boy. He can't be much more than 6 or 7, but I'm terrible with ages.
As I reach him I can hear him murmuring "where's my mommy?" to no-one in particular. He's the first kid I've seen out here, and somehow it feels different. I can't pretend not to notice this time.
He pauses to suck on one of his little hands, which seems to be bleeding.
I've never liked kids before, but something in me feels drawn to him. I don't think he should be standing this close to the accident.
Approaching him, I calmly say "Hey," and then, "where'd you come from?" He points to the burning car. My heart sinks. It's only worse when he tells me he doesn't live near here.
"Mommy dissapeared." He says in a louder voice than before, looking up at me with large, woeful eyes. "Daddy's asleep."
What? Who could sleep through a car accident? Is the first thing that goes through my mind.
But I don't have time to think about it because he's leading me toward the SUV already.
Should we get this close? What am I, the medic? Where are the freaking firetrucks?!
But it's true, if his father is in there, he can't get left there.
We reach the car, and when I open the door I can see his mother's empty clothes in the driver's seat.
I can't help him find her any more than he can help me, despite the nagging in my mind that tells me I do know where she is, so I turn my attention to his father. He's slumped over on the dash. I climb in over the driver's seat to shake his arm, "Sir, wake up!" No response. I try shaking him harder, but it feels weird. That's when I notice the trickle of blood on the dash, coming from his forehead; except it's not running anymore. My face goes pale. I reach out two shaking fingers and check the pulse on his neck, or at least, the spot where there should be a pulse. I check it again and again, with the same result, not wanting to turn around and face the expectant boy behind me. It hadn't occurred to me that a child wouldn't understand death.
I couldn't avoid it now. It was all real. I had to accept that I was in the middle of a tragedy. What sort I wasn't sure, but a tragedy all the same. It wasn't just missing people now. There were casualties.
Suddenly, a terrible realization strikes me, something that should've occured far earlier. If the fire has been going for this long, it can't be far from the gas tank, and if I've seen any movies, I know what that means.
The flames keep licking nearer, but I don't trust my check for life signs enough to leave the boy's father in there. I soon realize, however, that I'm going to have to. After a few tugs I find my slight build is no match for his dead weight.
I have to back away. One body is better than three after all.
Swallowing my newfound panic, I turn to my new friend and kneel down to his eye level.
"What's your name? Mine's Britt."
He looks down and scuffs the pavement with his shoe before answering "Austin."
"Okay Austin, I need you to listen to me. We have to get out of here. It's not safe anymore. I'll get you out of here. Take my hand."
He holds it out reluctantly and I take it, smiling into his eyes and trying desperately to hide the shattered mess I am inside.
"I'm gonna need you to do something for me, I need you to run as fast as you can over there when I say, okay? Can you do that for me?"
He nods, shyly.
I have no idea how much time we have, it could blow any second, or in five minutes, but I'm not taking any chances.
"Ready...RUN! NOW!"
Together we sprint away from the car, and we're nearly a safe distance away when he changes his mind, breaks away, and starts to run back.
"Austin, no!"
Forgetting my own safety, I dash after him. The whole car is in flames now, and he can just see his father's face again when I catch up, grab him by the waist, swing him around and start the other way again. He's screaming now, but I sprint as far I can get us before the car explodes in a blast of fire, throwing us to the pavement.
White. Everything is white. It's all I can see, all that fills my aching lungs, and in place of sound a buzzing pulse beats in my ears, if you could see that, it would probably be white too.
When I collapsed, the little boy fell out of my arms. He's laying on the ground next to me. Hey, we survived! High five. I think dazedly. As my hearing starts to return, I can tell that he's quietly sobbing. Oh, my dazed mind thinks sleepily, he must be crying because his hand hurts. No wait. It's my hand that hurts. Pushing myself heavily up from the pavement, I raise my palm to my eyes and notice a small chunk of glass sticking out of it. Nice. I disinterestedly pull the foreign object out of my hand and the blood trickles down my forearm. As my eyes focus on the bright red, the sudden shot of pain snaps me back to my senses.
I whip my head over my shoulder and look back fearfully. White ash floats down, curling around my auburn ponytail like a messed up snowglobe, but I can still see the mangled remains of the vehicle smouldering in the background. It looks now like someone performed an air-raid on my street. Only the backs of my shoes and the tips of my jeans are cinged, we got lucky. My daze doesn't long keep my fear from returning, so as soon as I feel able I help Austin up.
I'm sick of cars, of trucks, of SUVs, sick of smoke, of roads, and feeling like I don't what the heck is going on. Like the lady said, there's no place like home!
Taking the boy's hand and reassuring him that everything is okay, we start to run again, never looking back. He doesn't know where he's going, but I do.
Eager to leave my trauma behind me, I run faster, outdistancing him. After continuing at that pace for a while I slow to a jog, finally turning the corner into my own driveway. I'm so out of breath I have to stop and rest for a bit with my hands on my knees. Then I pull my backpack off and start rifling inside. Fortunately, my house keys are one of the few things that survived at the bottom of my backpack. If anyone knows what's going on, it's going to be my Mom. Whether or not I admit it, she's right most of the time.
I pull open the screen door and fumble with the keys. Once the lock clicks, I swing around the doorpost and into the livingroom.
"Mom, I need to ask you somethi- Mom?"
The livingroom is empty. I see a laundry basket on the couch, a book, and a small pile of folded clothes, but no mother. That's odd. She never leaves a job unfinished.
I have so much to tell her, she doesn't know that Gram dissapeared, let alone that I brought a kid home.
I can see into the kitchen, so I know she isn't getting something out of the fridge, or cooking. At the thought of food my stomach growls, and I realize I've been hungry most of the day.
I pop into the bathroom, but turn up nothing.
"Mom!" I call, my voice filling up our small house. If I know her, she's probably out on the street helping as many people as she can find. I huff. I'm the one that needs her right now.
I jog over and check my bedroom, sometimes when I'm home really late from school (thank Logan for that) I'll find her praying at my bedside. Calling her a few more times, I run through the kitchen and into the den, but I can't find her anywhere. I even look into the backyard, but she's not putting up more laundry on the line or anything.
I try to turn on the TV, but it only gives me a half-hearted sizzling sound. I see Mom's phone on the end-table. Surely she would have taken that with her if she went out. That, also, refuses to turn on.
That's when I notice the clothes, and scream.
I didn't see them before because of the laundry, but now the oufit my mother saw me to school in this morning is clear to my eyes in the middle of the couch.
No. This is not happening. It can't happen. This is my house, and my mother! This kind of thing doesn't happen to me! All the tornadoes and hurricanes I see on the news, none of those have ever come here, so why has this?!
Moving to the couch, my legs slightly wobbly from falling repeatedly, I just stare, like if I don't touch the clothes she'll come back somehow.
I put a hand to my mouth when I look past them. In the baby rocker is a tiny, empty, pink onesie. Tay is gone. My heart starts to beat so hard in my chest that it hurts. How can someone I only knew for two years, someone who couldn't even talk, make me feel this much pain?
I-I need to lay down, I stumble into my parent's bedroom but stop cold again. On their bed is a suit, neatly pressed and laying on one side of it. My mind starts reeling and I feel a little faint. Am I alone in the world now?
"Hello!? ANYONE? Someone help me please!" I scream at the whole house. Maybe they didn't come since I only called Mom. Maybe it's a prank.
Is this your idea of a JOKE, God? I think, Well, you can bring them back! This isn't funny!
Wow. Never talked to him before. Come to think of it, he does seem like the type of person to do this. I already thought he stole my Mom. Now he really did. I shake my fist at the ceiling, but I can't hold it up for long. I feel so weird, like I'm melting inside. My eyes half-close.
A thought crosses my mind and I head for the front window to see if Austin has made it here yet, but I'm halfway across the livingroom when my legs buckle and I collapse to the carpet.
I don't move, I just lie there, staring at the ceiling with wide, glazed eyes.
Then suddenly all my muscles tense and I start to rock myself back and forth in a ball on the floor. I begin to laugh hysterically. This is a dream, right? A wacked up, twisted dream that won't be able to touch me once I wake up.
Wake. Up! I scream at myself, pounding the carpet. My muscles give up again, shoulders shaking as I start to cry.
I don't hear Austin quietly enter and stand in the corner, so I'm startled out of my reverie when he suddenly pipes up from the window where he's peeping through the lace curtains."Someone's coming!"
Looking up at him through bright, tear-colored eyes, I sniff and pull a part of myself together.
Seeing an opportunity to distract myself, I get up, and without bothering to ask what they look like or looking for myself, I run to stand behind the door. A metal baseball bat is propped up against the wall and I grab it and wait. Anyone coming in here with less than pleasant intentions is going to get whacked out of their brain. I know what kind of people try to be thieves when others are vulnerable. I keep waiting, bat poised; heart racing for the millionth time today.
As the door creaks open I step around and swing, but a strong hand catches the end of the bat before it hits its mark, and a masculine voice says: "Now just what were you planning to do with that?" I stop struggling to free the bat and an expression of happy shock dawns on my face. I drop the bat, collapsing into the stranger's arms.
"Dad!"
I don't know whether to laugh or cry right now but I think I start to do both as I hug him tightly.
I pause and look up. "You're alive! B-but...your clothes, you were gone too."
He laughed. "I had those laid out for the meeting today."
I said nothing, only let out a relieved laugh and leant into his embrace more.
He continued. "I got home from work early to go to the meeting, but I couldn't find any of you. I tried to call but all the phones were dead. When all the cars shorted out I went looking for you, I just got back."
"M-Mom and the baby are gone," I say, sobbing into his chest.
"I know, honey," He soothed, stoking her red hair lovingly. "But at least we have each-other."
He's being strong for me, unfathomably so. Like I was for Austin.
"Your mother was right." He says.
"What?"
"Look, over here." He takes me over to the couch where before I had seen an open book. It's Mom's Bible.
It's bookmarked in Luke, and the highlighted verse says: "I tell you, on that night two people will be in one bed; one will be taken and the other left. Two women will be grinding grain together; one will be taken and the other left."
I stand there and let that sink in. There's my answer, sitting there in front of me like an instruction manual.
"I found the emergency radio downstairs." Dad continued, "It's happening worldwide. All the babies have been taken. They're saying it's a global EMP."
I take a deep breath. "They were all right."
"Yes, they were all right."
"Dad, I'm tired of being wrong."
And right there, in their empty house, a new friend beside them, burning cars outside and a world of fear to face, they asked Jesus into their hearts; One greater than the world. And they knew they wouldn't be alone anymore.
Two people against the world. But One stood behind them now that had never been there before, and that had to give them hope. They knew they would see their family again, maybe sooner than they thought.
"Dad."
"Yes?"
"So I found this kid..."
"What?"
"Hey, you always said you wanted a son, remember?"
The End
Last Author's note: So I know this feels like the beginning of a story and not the end, but if you want the whole thing I guess you can just go watch Left Behind, XD. If I said I was going to make even a chapter 3, I'd be lying to myself. I barely forced myself to write this one. I never intended it to be longer anyway. So, hope you enjoyed, and toodle-oo! :P
