by Ryan Casey
“A few?”
“Six. I think. Maybe seven. Not too sure.”
“And you felt fit to drive in that state?”
“Fresh as a daisy, clearly.”
Officer Crealey frowned. “Serious, Mr Callaghan.”
“I felt a little fuzzy,” Mike said. “But… but I can take my drink. And I didn’t cause any harm. My reactions still seemed intact. Anyway, what does it matter? I was driving over the limit. I’m screwed, right?”
Officer Crealey sighed, shook her head. “Your position isn’t looking good. You were driving dangerously over the limit. You’ve lost your licence effective now, and you won’t be driving again for a long time. Besides, the nature of your driving, the risk that posed to the public… we could be talking about sentencing, Mr Callaghan.”
Mike’s stomach sank the second Officer Crealey said the words. “You can’t arrest me. And my taxi. I… I do Uber rides and stuff. Just enough to pay the mortgage. You can’t take that away.”
“Actually, you’ll find I can.”
“My daughter,” Mike said. “She… she has nowhere else to go.”
“There will be provisions, of course. But I wouldn’t worry about that right now. One step at a time—”
“I screwed up, big time. I made a mistake. Just… just show a bit of sympathy. Please.”
Officer Crealey sighed. And for the first time in a while, Mike thought he saw sympathy in her eyes. He thought he saw understanding.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “But you knew how much you’d had to drink when you got in that car. You knew how much danger you were putting yourself and everyone else in. You have to own that mistake. And you have to pay for it. The very thought that you’d go back to driving cars with other people in the passenger seat is, quite frankly, terrifying.”
She handed a piece of paper across the table to Mike.
“That’s notification that your licence is revoked, effective immediately.”
“How am I supposed to get my car back home?”
“We’ll sort all that out for you. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
Officer Crealey’s voice disappeared into the background, then. Everything felt like it disappeared into the background. Because there was a feeling. A strange feeling in the air. Like static electricity. Like the hairs on Mike’s arms and everywhere on his body were rising. Like…
Then he heard the screeching.
The rumbling.
Officer Crealey looked over her shoulder. “What—”
And the next thing Mike knew… there was a blast.
A blast that ripped through the station.
A blast that threw him across the room.
A blast that sent him flying against the wall, head first.
Just before he hit the wall, Mike had that momentary sense of amusement that he’d been so naive to believe today couldn’t get any worse.
And then his head hit the wall, and all he saw was blackness.
Holly
Holly stared up at the bright green sky, totally transfixed, and tried to figure out what the hell was going on.
Probably for the first time in Benny’s life, he’d kept the rolling news channel on and wasn’t dismissing it as “fake news” or “corporate drama.” There were more reports of weird electrical phenomena emerging—cars stalling and not starting up again; televisions exploding; trains derailing. There were already opinion pieces launching, with talks that perhaps some kind of hack was occurring, and the suspects were already being lined up and chastised.
But most of all, there was an air of amusement and excitement about these news reports. The sense that this was something major, and everyone was in a battle for the best, most cutting-edge coverage. It was kind of like 9/11, where you got the sick sense that the news readers and journalists were actually enjoying what they were reporting on, so big and momentous were the events.
“So what do we think?” Benny asked. They were all standing by the patio doors now, all staring up at the sky. “Alien invasion?”
“I don’t care what it is,” Harriet said, tapping away on her phone. “As long as Snapchat doesn’t go down, I’m all good.”
“I mean, it’ll be sorted out in no time, right?” Gina said. She was the perennial worrier of the group; the one who always needed her hand holding and reassuring. “Even if there was something serious here. They’d sort it out, wouldn’t they?”
Benny snorted. “Who’s ‘they’?”
“You know. The army. The government.”
“They’ll be too busy hiding in their bunkers to care.”
Gina sighed. “Stop it, Benny.”
“Benny has a point.”
Holly looked around. It was Kumal who had spoken for the first time in this exchange.
“What’re you saying?” Holly asked.
Kumal scratched his spotty chin. “I’m just saying. The weird lights. The electricity screwing up. Seems like it could be an EMP thing to me.”
Holly frowned. “An ‘EMP thing’?” She’d heard about EMPs before from her dad, but she hadn’t really paid much attention to him. Just one of his weird little nerdy interests, as Mum used to always say.
But even so… she’d heard some of his little tips. She’d heard some of his warnings should the world ever descend into chaos.
Without even realising she’d been listening, she’d heard them.
Not that she was ever really going to need that knowledge.
Right?
Kumal cleared his throat. “Electromagnetic pulse. Sometimes it can come from the sun; sometimes it can be caused by weapons. The kind of weapon that wipes out electricity. Even knocks out remote things, like cars, that sorta stuff. If it happened… it’d knock us right back to the Dark Ages.”
Harriet sighed. She was still transfixed more by her phone than the lights in the sky. “Kumal, you need to stop reading those books and playing those video games. They’re messing with your head.”
“It’s not game stuff. It’s real. Governments have been testing these weapons for years. Some people reckon, like, North Korea and Russia could’ve been working together on something like this for a long time.”
“Again,” Harriet said, “enough of the fantasy. Why does everyone always have to blame North Korea and Russia for everything? Anyway. Right now, all we know is there’s some weirdness with the electricity, and there’s a few lights in the sky. How is that a big deal? I mean, look at those lights out there. They look cute. Shouldn’t we just chill and enjoy them?”
Holly wanted to feel calmed by Harriet’s words. But the truth was, she was duly rattled. She saw the news and the lights together and she knew something was wrong. Because this… this didn’t happen. Not in Britain. Not in civilised nations.
And yet it seemed to be happening in several places across the globe.
“They’re all western allies,” Holly said.
Harriet narrowed her eyes. “What?” she said. She clearly didn’t have much patience.
Holly pointed at the map of the globe where the events had occurred that was currently on the rolling news channel. “The UK. The US. Canada. France. Australia and New Zealand. They’re… they’re all ‘western’ allies.”
“Holly has a point,” Kumal said. “Not bad for a little kid.”
“Hey,” Holly said, shooting him a glance. “I’m only a year younger than you and I bet I could ruin you at a game of Trivial Pursuit.”
Harriet sighed again. “I think you’re all getting a little carried away by all this. It’s the news. You said it yourself, Benny. They stir rubbish up.”
“You’re saying what’s out there is rubbish?” Kumal said. “What we’re actually looking at is rubbish?”
“I’m saying… we don’t get carried away. I came here to chill, anyway. Can we put Netflix on or something? I’m bored of this.”
Harriet might’ve continued talking. Everyone in the room might’ve continued talking. But Holly didn’t hear Harriet. She
didn’t hear anyone.
“Look,” she said, pointing at the sky.
Benny frowned. Gina looked concerned. Kumal followed her hand, and Harriet rolled her eyes once again. “Yeah. We know. The sky is green. Tell us something new.”
“No,” Holly said. “Look. Like right there. What is that?”
The rest of the group turned, and then they saw it.
“Is that…”
There was something moving across the sky. Something falling. It looked like it was on fire.
“A meteorite?” Gina said. “Oh, God. I thought the government were, like, ready to handle meteorites and things like that.”
“I don’t think it’s a meteorite,” Kumal said.
“It’s a plane,” Holly said.
The second she said it, the more visible it became. No doubt about it, a plane was falling from the sky.
“That’s… moving pretty fast,” Benny said.
“It can’t be a plane,” Harriet said. For the first time, she actually seemed rattled now.
“Then what is it?” Kumal asked.
Harriet looked at Kumal, then at Holly. “It just… it can’t be a plane. Can it?”
They watched as it flew closer and closer towards the earth. Then as it became visible right above the city of Preston.
And then finally, as it crashed into one of the buildings at the other end of time, going up in a ball of flames.
“Shit,” Benny said.
And right at that moment… there was a flash.
Then another flash. And another.
And at that moment, after the series of flashes unlike anything Holly had ever seen… the electricity in the house went off.
The electricity and the lights in the street all went off.
Everything went silent.
Everything went dark.
“Crap,” Kumal said.
“It must’ve hit a power line,” Gina said. “That’s what happened. Right?”
Holly’s heart raced, her mouth dry. She had to call Dad. Sure, things hadn’t ended well between them. But she needed to know he was okay. And she needed to know she was going to be okay.
But as she lifted her phone out of her pocket, her worst fears were realised.
“Um, guys,” Harriet said. “Anyone else’s phones not working?”
The group all stood there, dead phones in hand, surrounded by darkness.
“I’m guessing this means Snapchat really is down, then,” Harriet said.
Mike
When Mike woke, he wasn’t sure what had happened.
Only that he could taste blood, his head was aching, and he got the strange sense that this was more than just a hangover.
He opened his eyes. But they stung right away. It felt like they were burning, and that his entire head was on fire.
He could hear noises. Shouts. Screams. If this was some kind of drink-induced nightmare then he wanted to wake up—fast. He didn’t want to be trapped in a bad dream. Because he knew that whenever he was trapped in a bad dream, he always got a visit from one person in particular.
A person he loved very much.
And those visits were never not terrifying or horrifying in some way.
Mike coughed. There was smoke on his lungs. As he opened his eyes some more, adjusted his gaze, he realised that he definitely wasn’t at home. Wherever this was, he certainly didn’t recognise it.
But the more he opened his eyes, the more his gaze adjusted, the more the memories of how he’d got into this position—into this predicament—began to grow.
He was in the police station. That’s right. He’d been pulled over for drink driving. Sure, he thought it was a bit ridiculous. After all, he’d been well in control of the vehicle. And he hadn’t done anyone any harm, he was pretty sure of that.
But…
The burning. The building crumbling all around him.
And then he remembered the blast.
He wasn’t sure where it came from. Wasn’t sure of its source.
But one thing was for sure.
There had been an almighty explosion that ripped through this police station. He remembered sitting there, the officer right ahead of him—Alison Crealey her name was.
But she wasn’t there anymore. Not that he could see.
And he was alone in here.
He had to get up. He had to get out.
He couldn’t stay trapped in here.
As he stood up, his head and neck started to ache like mad. He winced as he placed one weary foot in front of the other. His chest was filled with smoke, which was even less pleasant a feeling than you can imagine.
He moved across the police station interrogation room. There was heat coming through that door, so he could only assume there was a massive fire.
He reached into his pocket, hand shaking. His phone was screwed. He must’ve knocked it in the blast. Must’ve broken it from within—although he found it strange that there were no cracks on the screen, anything like that.
He tried persevering with it, tried pressing a few buttons. But in the end, it became very clear that he was going to have no luck.
The phone was knackered. He was trapped in here.
So he was going to have to do his damnedest to get out.
He went over to the door, poked his head out so he could see down the corridor.
And when he looked out onto the corridor, his stomach turned.
There were bodies on the floor. Burning bodies. The walls had caved in. Looked like some of those who had died hadn’t known a lot about it.
He stepped back into the interrogation room, heart racing. He tried to recall what he would’ve done a long time ago when this sort of situation was commonplace—a memory of his past that he tried to repress, mostly because of the demons associated with that time.
He rubbed his hands through his hair, looking around the interrogation room for some kind of way out, some place he could escape.
And that was when he saw her.
She was lying right beside the interrogation room table.
Her head was cut. And she looked unconscious.
“Alison,” Mike said, walking over towards her. “Officer. Hey.”
He kneeled by her side. Examined her body. He didn’t want to move her without knowing she hadn’t broken anything for certain.
She seemed pretty much intact, but he still had to be careful. He moved her very steadily onto her back. Then he tapped her face a little, not too hard, but in a way that brought a guilty sort of pleasure at getting his revenge on the woman who’d arrested him.
“Alison,” he said. His only real focus was making sure she was okay. He couldn’t leave her inside this burning, collapsing building. He needed to get her out of here. “Hey. Wake up. Come on. You’re okay. You’re…”
And a second later, something remarkable happened. Something entirely unexpected.
Alison opened her eyes.
She looked up at him, confused. “What…”
“There’s been an explosion of some kind,” Mike said. “Now I know you were in the middle of charging me, and everything, but I think that’s gonna have to go on hold for a short while.”
She sat up. Mike saw the alarm cross her face. “An explosion? But…”
“Come on,” Mike said, offering her a hand. “Let’s get you to your feet. How’s your head?”
“Sore. How’s yours?”
Mike hadn’t even stopped to think about his own head. But when he put a hand to it, he realised it was bleeding.
“Guess you aren’t the only one that got a good punch from this thing,” Mike said.
They walked over to the door then. And Mike stopped Alison when they got there. “I have to warn you,” he said. “There’s… there’s things out there you aren’t going to like looking at.”
“What’re you talking about?”
“Just trust me, okay? It’d be best if you didn’t look to your left.”
But as they left the interview room, Ali
son did what came naturally to her—what would come naturally to anyone told not to look.
She looked.
And when she did, her face went totally pale.
“My colleagues,” she said. “Jane. Harry. They…”
“Come on,” Mike said. “I’m sorry. Truly. But we have to go.”
Alison followed. She seemed like she was in a trance, now. But as they battled their way out of the broken down corridor, Mike got the strange sense that this was only the beginning of the nightmare. That something didn’t feel right about this at all. Something felt very wrong.
It was only when he stepped outside via a broken wall that he realised how wrong it was.
First thing he noticed?
The cars.
The cars on the streets, all at a halt.
Then the lights. Or rather, the lack of man-made lights, and the green lights above—an aurora.
But there was something else more eye-catching.
Something even more prominent.
And it was Alison who pointed it out.
“What’s… what’s this metal? And these seats? What are all these things?”
And as Mike stepped a little further back, widening his perspective of the destroyed police station, the reality of the situation—and the realisation of what this might just be—started to grow.
“It’s a plane,” he said.
“A plane? But how…”
Mike swallowed a lump in his throat. Thought about all the things he’d researched about EMPs. About solar events. About the devastation they could cause—and about the world they’d leave behind. “I think I know what’s going on,” he said. “But when I tell you about it… you aren’t going to like it.”
Holly
Holly looked at the smoke rising into the aurora-lit sky and she knew by now that something drastic was happening here.
Benny’s house was silent. The television was off. The lights were off. There was no music playing. The only real sounds came from outside. But none of these were the sounds of other people’s televisions or anything like that. They were the chatter of people stepping into the streets, gossiping with neighbours over what they thought was happening, and how they thought it was all going to play out.
