Portal

by Fred Alvrez

  Nathan studied where his hand was now back in the hole after much effort. Once his hand was in the haze hole, it was difficult to keep it there, but he had done it.

  He moved his body around so he could see the other side of the haze, and there was no hand.

  Nathan studied the haze some more.

  There was only one thing for it.

  “Kev, listen carefully. I have no idea if you can understand me, but I hope so. I’m going to try and poke my head through the haze thing, and if you feel something bad is happening, I want you to try and pull me out, okay?”

  Kevin sat down.

  “Woof woof.”

  “It’s down low so you can pull on my legs or something. I don’t really know what you can do, but I want some sort of haze-shimmering insurance. Here goes.”

  Nathan moved his body around again so his head was right in front of the shimmering. The tiled floor of the gas station didn’t help for grip, but he crouched as steadfastly as he could and started to push the front of his head through. There was some pain, but the problem was more that he almost couldn’t do it—it took a lot of strength to try and push his face through, but he was making progress.

  A minute went by, and yet Nathan only had his nose through—and that nose was smelling odors. More and more he pushed, and finally he got his eyes through. It looked much the same as it did where he and Kev where, until he saw a pair of legs walk past his face.

  “What the hell?” Nathan’s voice came out on Kevin’s side of the portal. Sensing something incredible, he pushed more until most of his head was through, including his ears.

  “Mum, can I buy some crisps, please? Please Mummy?”

  “No, Letitia, you got some at the last gas station. Go find your father.”

  Nathan was stunned. Here was his head looking into another world—what looked like his normal world. There was a roaring noise in his ears, but it wasn’t unbearable.

  “Letitia! Letitia’s mum! Down here! Look down here!”

  Letitia and her mum ignored him and the young girl moved off, he guessed to find her father.

  “Hello! Hello! Down here!”

  No response from the mum, and no recognition of the head floating in midair.

  Nathan could see a few more people in the gas station shop, buying coffee and paying for gas. All seemed oblivious to the head sticking out all by itself—assuming they could see his head, he thought. He guessed if they couldn’t hear him, they couldn’t see him either.

  Something caught Nathan’s vision on his left. A dog’s snout was pushing through alongside his head.

  More and more than snout came through. As bizarre as this situation was, Nathan chuckled. It was just like that Shrek movie when Donkey’s head came through in the carriage.

  After thirty seconds, Kevin’s head was almost through, enough for him to see and hear, too, Nathan guessed.

  Moving his head slightly, he could see Kevin’s wide-eyed look at what they were seeing.

  “Woof woof!”

  “It’s no use. They can’t hear us and I don’t think they can see us either.”

  “Woof.”

  Both were transfixed, and Nathan felt neither of them wanted to leave this other normal world and go back to their lonely one.

  After a few minutes, the force that was making it difficult to enter the portal and the roaring in his ears became too much, and he withdrew to their quieter gas station.

  Nathan’s head came out with a pop and he could still see Kevin’s head in the portal, with his body weirdly still on Nathan’s side, his tail wagging frantically.

  A minute went by, and he could see Kevin’s head retracting back. Eventually his whole doggy head popped back into their world.

  “Holy crap, did you see that?” Kevin said.

  Chapter Four

  Coldness came over Casey, no doubt helped by her lying on the bathroom floor. Opening her eyes a bit, she tried to comprehend what had happened. Oh yeah, her mum was gone. Probably gone where everyone else had gone.

  Where that was, she had no idea.

  She wasn’t even sure how much time had passed since she fainted. One thing she did know: she was mentally exhausted. Gathering her strength, she sat up, then stood, her legs shaking. Walking like a zombie, she went to her old bedroom. It was exactly as she’d left it last month when she spent the weekend with her mum. She needed the comfort and security of familiarity so bad.

  Climbing into bed, she realized she still had her clothes on, but was beyond caring about trivial things. As far as she knew, she was the last person left on earth. Wearing your clothes to bed was meaningless.

  She curled into the fetal position, and crashed out.

  The sounds of birds chirping brought her out of the deep slumber she had been in. Trying to straighten her legs, she was met with severe cramps. Casey checked her watch: 8:30 a.m. She had slept right through the afternoon and night in the fetal position, not moving at all.

  She tried bearing through the cramps, but struggled. She didn’t have the willpower for beating pain anymore. After a few minutes, she managed to rise in agony and went straight to the window to see the birds. No birds to be seen.

  Her imagination, then.

  Time for coffee—surely that would make things better. After a trip to the toilet—kicking her mum’s nightie away with her foot—she put the kettle on in the kitchen and slumped down at the kitchen table, sighing heavily.

  Grabbing a pad and pen from the other side of the table, Casey decided it was time to take stock.

  Okay, enough of the whining, what did she know?

  She wrote as she spoke things out loud.

  “One: I may be the only person left. Two: I don’t know that. Three: Mum has gone somewhere. Four: I don’t know where. Five: She may be with everyone else. Six: I don’t know that.”

  Casey stopped writing. This was a waste of time. The reality was she knew almost nothing.

  After making a strong black coffee, she went out to the lounge and sat on the sofa, facing the road, hopeful that a car might go past or a person might walk by. Neither happened while she drank.

  “Fuck.”

  After retrieving her cell phone from her truck, she returned to the couch. The next ten minutes she spent ringing everyone in her address book again. She got either no answer or voice mail for every one of them.

  Bringing up Facebook, she looked for anything new—maybe someone overseas could help? No news items past 3:00 a.m. the previous day appeared, either local or from overseas. None of her friends was showing online at all, and all were showing as not having connected since the night before last.

  One last shot: she posted to Facebook.

  Anyone—ANYONE—see this? Please let me know if you do. It’s a matter of life and death. Not joking. Hitting the post button, she knew in her heart that it was pointless.

  The coffee was soon finished and still she had no plan. This wasn’t like her at all. Her friends joked constantly about how she’d had life sorted out before she finished school. Left school at sixteen with a plumber’s apprenticeship all lined up. Finished that and qualified, and started her own plumbing business straight away. Got the perfect boyfriend. Next was to settle down, have kids, build up the business. Life was good.

  Well, the last four days had not been part of the plan at all. Cheating Conner kicked it all off after getting it on ‘just the once’ with his work colleague. Then this shit happened. How did you plan for that?

  This wasn’t helping her. How could she plan ahead when she kept looking back?

  Casey stood and then wandered aimlessly through the house. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, if anything. She just felt like walking. She made it to the front door and stepped outside. No birdsong, no traffic, no people. After walking to the tree-lined street, she turned left mindlessly. Casey walked on, looking everywhere for some sign of life. It simply wasn’t possible that she was the last one left.

  She walked four blocks down to the ce
nter of Whanganui, to the historic Post & Telegraph Office. The center of town was a bustling place, full of locals with their children, going shopping and running errands. There was a mixture of modern buildings and lots of single-story wooden buildings from over a hundred years ago.

  Today, only the buildings remained.

  Sitting down on a bright yellow park bench, she looked around again. Absolute silence. A bee landed on her arm, and she leaped up with a loud “argghhh!!” out of fright. Then she realized it was a bee—so at least there was some sort of life still left.

  “Come back, Mr. Bee. Sorry I yelled at you!” The bee didn’t return.

  Walking back to her mum’s house, Casey tried again to formulate some sort of plan. What the hell was she going to do?

  Her mum’s house was as she had left it, with the front door wide open and her cell phone still on charge.

  Right, this is it. Here’s the plan.

  Total blank. She couldn’t force it, as much as she wanted to.

  She needed to go somewhere. There was no point staying here. She could go to Dad’s place in Ahipara, in the Far North. Long drive, but maybe they weren’t affected as much up there. Still, she had no idea if he was even there since she couldn’t ring him.

  Nevertheless, Casey felt relief. At least a plan was forming.

  First she needed some clothes and things. She needed to go home, get her stuff, and then drive.

  She was elated. She was sorting her life out, even though the future was unknown. At least she had a plan.

  Casey unplugged her phone and left the house. She locked the front door behind her, just in case of…well, she didn’t know what. But just in case anyway.

  Climbing in her truck, she took one last look at her childhood home. A sense of never returning here came over her, with a wash of sadness.

  Pull it together, girl. You need to drive a thousand Ks. No time for tears now.

  After starting her truck, she backed out of her mum’s driveway. As she pulled away she saw the house getting smaller in her mirrors.

  This was a turning point, but to what she didn’t know.

  Hunger and not much diesel in the tank forced her to stop at the next gas station. Pulling in, she suddenly realized she wasn’t sure if this would all work. Could she get diesel out of the pump with no one there?

  She stopped by a diesel pump and tried to fill her truck. No joy. Casey walked over to the small gas station shop and tried the door. Locked. Peering in, she stupidly expected to see someone behind the counter, but of course the place was empty.

  This could be a problem.

  She drove on to the next gas station in the slightly bigger town of Bulls, a twenty-four-hour JET. She hoped this might mean she could get her much-needed diesel. This time, the pump sort of worked—she needed to use her credit card at the pump to pay, but at least she got her tank filled.

  The hunger was still there, though, so she went up to the doors, and they opened automatically. She locked this away for future reference. A not-so-healthy lunch of potato chips and Coke didn’t do much, but it helped keep the hunger pains away.

  She took the highway home to Levin, dodging crashed trucks and cars along the way.

  As she arrived back at her flat, she stopped her truck outside and just sat there. There was a definite pull for her to simply park there and stay. Watch DVDs, sleep, and eat whatever food was left. Play solitaire on her computer and blob out. But how long would that last?

  For all she knew, there was some sort of time limit on this new world. If she didn’t do something now, maybe it would be too late. Watching old TV shows on DVD would not accomplish much.

  She unlocked her flat and went in, habitually calling for Charlie. No Charlie, but she took a closer look in his bed and spied his collar.

  Casey sat on one of the kitchen chairs. Charlie was a cat she had rescued from a flooded river four years ago. He had been with her as part of her life all that time. Now he was gone—somewhere.

  “Goodbye, Charlie.”

  She sat motionless on the kitchen chair, her heart pulling at her to cry her eyes out over him. Her head took over, and she stood. It was surely time to be sensible now and not emotional.

  As she passed through the lounge, she spotted a parcel she hadn’t yet opened—one she was saving for a wet weekend. A golden score from eBay—the entire series of CSI: Miami on DVD for only forty-nine dollars. Even if she didn’t watch one, she could at least take one last look at her purchase. Casey opened the parcel and checked out the Series One DVD.

  It looked so shiny.

  Maybe she could watch the first episode, for old times’ sake. That was only forty minutes, barely a dent in her 1,000km trip to the Far North. She didn’t have to be sensible all the time, surely?

  True to her habits, she got her panda onesie from her bedroom and put it on. After closing the lounge curtains, she cranked up the TV and DVD player, stuck the first disk in the slot, and hit the play button.

  As episode one ended, she decided it had been worth waiting for.

  Maybe just one more episode.

  Be rude not to.

  One episode turned into one season, which turned into another season. And so on.

  Casey felt the need to pee—and to take a look through the curtains to see what had changed outside, if anything.

  It was dark?

  How long had she been watching TV?

  Checking her watch, she realized twelve hours had passed since she sat down to watch just one episode.

  No point hitting the road now. Time to hit the pillow.

  Casey returned to her familiar, comforting bedroom with its oh-so-perfect bed.

  The Far North drive could wait another twelve hours.

  Opening one eye, Casey felt a sense of déjà vu. This was how her first day in hell started only two days ago.

  Feeling like perhaps it was simply a bad dream, she rose and went looking for Charlie. His collar was in the same place, in his bed. She went to the window, and looked outside, desperate to see cars driving past, or even a person.

  Nothing had changed.

  Casey put the kettle on for her ritual coffee, and made herself some toast. Her iPad was in the truck, so she checked her cell phone for any new emails (hah!) or Facebook posts. She also scrolled through the major news websites, and on a whim went to CNN, just in case the Americans were still about. The news looked pretty stale on that website, too.

  Breakfast over, teeth cleaned, and she was dressed—now it was time to actually do this. Or was it? Casey wandered back to the lounge, to the remaining pile of CSI: Miami DVDs.

  What was her rush, really? What was stopping her from hanging out at home for another day—or more? It’d be like a mini holiday before she hit the road for that massive drive.

  Maybe one more episode, or at the most one more season. And then that was it—she was outta there.

  She retrieved her onesie from the bedroom and donned it. Sitting down, she felt that comfort again. Totally no need to leave the house.

  She hit the play button on the remote.

  As the title scenes rolled, the power went off.

  Casey sat there, not wanting to admit defeat, and not wanting to actually have to start doing something. If she stayed where she was, the power might come back on.

  It might only be a micro-outage.

  She was sure it would come on again soon.

  Thirty minutes passed, and her bladder was screaming out for some relief.

  She rose and relieved herself. Still no power.

  Right, it was a sign. Let’s get the show on the road.

  After getting dressed, she found an old sports bag in the wardrobe. She threw in some clothes and toiletries, as well as some cans of baked beans and nut bars from the kitchen. She didn’t know how she’d cook the canned food, but if it came to starvation, she’d eat them cold.

  After throwing her bag on the back seat of her truck, she looked up at her flat. The same feeling of never returning
came over her, but she shook it off. It was a flat, not her own house. And as far as she knew, nothing could really stop her from returning. Unless she disappeared, too, of course.

  Casey motored out of Levin, heading north on State Highway 1. The Far North was calling to her, and she was on her way.

  As she neared the small town of Bulls, the desire to go to the toilet came yet again. She pulled into the same JET station as before, knowing she could at least get inside.

  Stupid girl. The power is probably off here, too.

  Still, worth a go. Walking up to the main doors, they opened with a bing for her. As she walked past the shelves she grabbed a few more energy bars. She felt a little guilty—she was stealing after all—but since it seemed like the end of the world, she was okay with it.

  Something caught her eye. Down near the floor, she saw a glimmering. Or a shimmering. A something, in any case. Approaching it cautiously, she bent down to take a look.

  What the…

  She stayed in the same position, transfixed by the thing she was looking at. Feeling mesmerized by it, Casey peered around the other side of it. It all looked normal.

  The temptation was too great. Casey, almost against her own will, started to push her hand into the thing. It was hard, but nothing bad seemed to happen. She removed her hand and noticed that it looked okay. No blood, no missing fingers—only her hand.

  She did it again with the same hand and then the other hand. She swore she could feel a breeze on her hand now and then when it was inside the shimmering thing.

  She couldn’t believe she was going to do this. But she was.

  It was large enough to take her head, and she didn’t really have any other plans, so what the hell. Casey positioned herself so she could push her head into the shimmer. While some sort of resistance pushed back at her, she slowly managed to get her head moving into it. She felt some pain, but something drove her to keep going.

  Inch by inch, her head moved inward to the point where her closed eyes and her ears were in there. And then she heard something. The roaring noise was there, but so was another noise—people.