We Who Remain

by Jacqueline Druga

  “The guys used to hide from their wives’ back in the day, come here and play poker.”

  At the bottom of the four flights of stairs, they walked down a short hall and there was a metal door. “You can’t get a signal in this room, but you can in this hall,” Mitch said. “That’s why I’m leaving it open. we can leave our phones out here.”

  Bob asked. “What are the three floors above us?”

  “Leads to the parking garage levels.”

  “Oh, good,” replied Bob, “We can sneak out that way. It’ll be rush hour when people are coming into work, they won’t look at us like we’re nuts.”

  Mitch stepped inside the room and turned on the lights.

  “Why are we going to be here that long?” Liv asked.

  “The tail takes about five hours to pass us. If the comet is carrying a toxin, it’ll be in the tail. At least that’s what George says,” Mitch replied.

  “Okay, stop, another name you’re dropping,” Liv said. “Who is George?”

  “Captain Miller, Buford’s right-hand man.”

  “Man,” Bob sniffed when he walked in. “Smells like cigarettes.”

  “Oh good.” Liv stepped inside. “It won’t matter if I smoke then.” She looked around. Liv didn’t know what exactly to expect. She supposed it was probably bigger, more on the other side of the door that was exactly across the room. A round table with six chairs was in the center of the room, an old metal desk in the corner, by them a sofa.

  There was a half wall of kitchen cabinets, a sink and fridge. It reminded her more of a windowless employee break room than anything. She could explore later, to her that would be fun if she grew bored.

  That never happened though.

  Or at least didn’t look like it was going to happen.

  They sat around the table, the food spread out, the drinks steadily being consumed.

  Bob seemed to have a level of intoxication, he never went over it nor under. He was like the drunk uncle at holiday events, that was how Liv likened him.

  “When I was interrogated,” Liv said. “They told me you had a degree in biology. How does one with a biology degree end up working in the sewers?”

  “Molecular biology, thank you very much,” Mitch replied. “And you need a degree in that to work in the sewers. I test all kinds of stuff that flows down here.”

  “Swell, I’ll be damned,” Bob said with a slam of his hand to the table. “I never knew that.”

  “How about this?” Mitch looked at Liv. “You said planes were part of your life. You knew about the landing gear and the way 6520 was flying. How?”

  “I know planes,” Liv said. “My father owned a crop dusting business, I used to work on his plane from the time I was a teenager. I actually was going to work in the field but …” she shrugged. “I didn’t really want to go to school. So I just would help out at the local country airport on small planes. I liked doing it. Brandon, my brother, took the other route.”

  “Can you fly?” Bob asked.

  “Yeah.” Liv nodded.

  “And here, I thought you only sold health club memberships,” Mitch said jokingly. “Though you don’t strike me as a sales person.”

  “I suck at it. I’m that annoying person who stops you while you’re in Walmart.”

  Bob looked curiously at Mitch as he lifted his drink. “I thought you knew her family well. You act like you don’t know her at all.”

  “I don’t,” Mitch replied. “She isn’t social. Her husband and daughter are. I’ve been talking to them for a while. I didn’t talk to Liv until we both were at the airport for family who were on the flight. I waved, she’d just give that partial smile and chin up nod. Never said a word.”

  “Why is that?” Bob asked Liv.

  “His wife wasn’t very nice. So I figured he wasn’t. She seemed like the type who would have an affair, fall in love and then justify it.”

  Mitch nearly gasped. “She did. That’s weird you’d say that.”

  “Yep. I’m lying,” Liv said.

  “About what?”

  “I used to listen to you guys fight. You … are so loud when you yell.”

  “I’m passionate.”

  “Hmm.”

  “That’s not nice,” Bob said. “To eavesdrop.”

  “I know. Danni and my husband would get on me about it …” her head turned to the door and the sound of a ringing phone “Speaking of husbands.” She stood up. ‘That’s probably him calling.”

  “Is it that time?” Mitch looked at his watch. “It is. Pyrrhus.”

  Liv hurried to the phone, she saw it was a video call, and she hit ‘answer’.

  The video call connected.

  “Hey!” Mark said. The phone was held out a little from his face.

  Liv could see the exterior darker background. “Hey, where are you?”

  “On the hospital roof.”

  “Mark, you should be inside.”

  “No, I should be seeing this. Say hi to Tina.” He moved the phone to show his co-worker with him.

  “Hi Liv, sorry you’re not here,” Tina said

  “But you don’t have to miss it,” Mark said. “It’s starting now, Babe. Not too late to run out to the street to see. This is the bomb spot, I’ll tell you.”

  “What do you see?” Liv asked,

  “I can see it coming. Here, I’ll turn the phone.” A quick turn of the phone showed a bright blue and white spot moving quickly. “Do you see that?” Mark turned the phone again.

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s getting brighter.” Mark held out the phone to capture less of him and more of the sky. “Holy shit. It’s huge.”

  “Mark,” Mitch called out. “We want to see.”

  “Here he comes,” Mark narrated, his face lightened by a hue of blue, then he aimed the phone.

  It was breathtaking for Liv. Huge and streaking across the sky. A celestial body, engulfed in spiraling flames like the sun, only the flames were blue. The tail was white, and while it looked like a mist, it wasn’t.

  Mark faced the phone again. “Isn’t that amazing? I mean I can’t …” It seemed he choked on a word, then Mark’s expression switched from happy to worried. “Something’s wrong.”

  “Mark?” Liv question. “What?”

  “Something isn’t right.”

  “Okay, stop, no jokes.”

  “Tina!” Mark shouted. “Oh God, Liv something is happening, My legs. My—”

  The camera view jolted downward, and only a smidgeon of the left side of Mark’s face was seen. His eye widened and shifted nervously around. He coughed once.

  “Mark, I’m serious, this isn’t funny.”

  It wasn’t a joke, and though Liv felt it, she knew without a doubt it wasn’t the moment the phone dropped to the ground, the camera angle pointing up only showing the sky.

  “Mark! Please, Mark, please. If you’re trying to be funny.” She paused then screamed. “Talk to me!”

  No response.

  Softly and with shock, Bob said, “I don’t think it’s a joke.”

  Hands shaking, Liv disconnected the call and hurriedly dialed again. “Pick up. Pick up. Danni, pick up.” With each unanswered ring, her soul filled with more fear and panic. It went to voice mail and she dialed Mark again. His phone didn’t even ring.

  Thrown into an instant state of sobriety, without hesitation, Liv bolted toward the stairwell.

  She didn’t make it far.

  Bob dove forward, slamming the door shut and Mitch grabbed her from behind to stop her.

  She could see Bob’s mouth moving, holding out his hand, saying something, but Liv couldn’t hear the words. Her own screams, her angry shouts to get out, drowned him out.

  She felt held against her will, but that was fleeting.

  “Liv!” Mitch blasted. “Enough. Stop. You aren’t going anywhere.”

  “Mark and my daughter …” she swung out her arms. “I have to get to them.”

  “And do what?” Mitch ask
ed. “Listen to me,” He turned her to face him. “If … if something happened. There’s nothing you can do. Going out there right now can be dangerous.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “We do,” Mitch argued. “If you go out there, I am gonna follow you. We don’t know. There could be just a communication break down. Please, let’s not take this risk. We came down here to be safe, just in case. So let’s be safe … just in case.”

  “What if they need help?” Liv asked meekly.

  “I don’t know what to tell you,” Mitch replied. "Except, how do you think you can help? If something happened up there, do you really think Mark would want you to take that risk? Danni may be fine. They may all be fine. We don’t know.”

  “What am up supposed to do?” Liv asked, “Just sit here, do nothing and wait.”

  “Yeah, that’s exactly what you do. That’s what we all do,” Mitch said. “We wait it out.”

  Liv looked at his face, then Bob’s. They weren’t calm. For as much as they tried to project calm, they were freaking out inside. Both men had that rapid breathing. Bob had a stream of sweat beads across his forehead while Mitch kept blinking.

  Liv wanted nothing more than to barrel past them and go find out for herself.

  She stayed put for one reason only. She knew Mitch would follow. If by some chance, whatever was happening above could affect her, as much as she didn’t care about her own life, she didn’t want Mitch to be hurt in some misguided chivalry toward her.

  So, against what she wanted, Liv waited with a drink in her hand, steadily consuming the alcohol as a means not lose it.

  But nothing … nothing was going to make that night go any faster, nor the feeling of dread that filled her gut go away.

  She felt it, she knew it.

  Everything that she feared would go wrong … did.

  9 - RESOLVE

  The steady, pulsing and flashing red and blue lights of the police car added a festive feel to the Sky Watch block party in the Gordan Arts district. Craig Barnes’, French Bistro sat on the corner near the squad cars. He had moved tables out into the street and nearly every restaurant was open, celebrating.

  It wasn’t the biggest party, that would come in two weeks when the mother of all comets zoomed on by.

  While Craig could no longer serve alcohol, the police were turning their heads to any he gave away. Everyone laughed and had fun anxiously awaiting the arrival of Pyrrhus as he flew by low and close.

  Craig didn’t want to miss it. He had no intention of missing it. He had partied, ate and drank to the point he not only felt good, he felt generous. He had pre sold one hundred and fifty tickets, and an hour before Pyrrhus was set to arrive, they stopped serving.

  People needed drinks. Craig gave the booze away, then when it came time for the comet, someone came up with the idea to have a toast as it zipped overhead.

  Craig had an even better idea.

  Champagne. Just like it was New Years.

  He didn’t know why he chose to go to the wine cellar at that particular moment.

  Pyrrhus was due to arrive.

  “I’ll be fast, I’ll make it,” he replied when they said he was going to miss it.

  He moved quickly, listening to the cheers and the noise of those outside. But Craig was slightly drunk and in his rush, third step down, his foot was caught and he tumbled to the basement floor.

  He grunted and groaned, wincing in pain, it probably would hurt more in the morning. It not only stumbled him, but caused a delay.

  Every second counted and he wasted so many trying to get it together on the floor.

  “Goddamn it, I bet I missed it,” Craig cursed, then hurriedly, as best as he could, sought out the champagne. He hobbled to the stairs, and the sound of cheering carried to him. “Son of a bitch.”

  Bottle in hand, he took the first step. It hurt and pain shot up his ankle. He had to switch his footing. Up with the good, down with the bad, he learned about stepping with an injured leg.

  The cheers not only irritated him because he was missing it, they inspired him to move faster.

  Then the cheers just … stopped.

  They stopped.

  The immediate wave of silence made Craig wonder if the spectacular light show they were expecting was a bust.

  He made it up the steps and around the bend, the police lights illuminating his restaurant.

  He could see the people through the window, they barely moved. Another step forward, he watched one of them literally drop out of sight.

  Craig rushed outside.

  The second he stepped out there, a hand reached for him. He looked to his left. A woman, right there, right by him, desperately tried to grab for him. She moved her mouth, but only a gurgle came out.

  “What is it?” he asked. “What’s wrong?” Noticing the woman was unsteady, he clutched on to her upper arms to give her support and when he did, his hands sunk.

  Her body seemed to be comprised of something similar to child’s slime, his hands went into her arms and the flesh oozed over his fingers.

  Craig’s mouth opened and he tried to scream. Stumbling back, looking at his covered hands, the woman dropped to the ground. Mortified, Craig spun to call for help.

  Another person went down, then another.

  As if some invisible being reached down, and in one fell swoop yanked every single bone from their bodies, the people literally melted to the ground.

  In the silence of the happening, everyone around him ceasing to exist in the most horrific way, Craig backed up and sought the safety of the inside of his building.

  Whether he was completely safe remained to be seen.

  <><><><>

  In his mind Mitch kept saying, “Come on Liv, get it together. Get it together.” Not that she as freaking out, but he could see the life had been drained from her face.

  A vibrant Liv was near catatonic. She hadn’t spoken since her attempt to flee, never said another word. She sat in the hall, on the floor, back against the wall, knees bent staring at her phone.

  At the other end of the hall, Mitch waited on a call.

  Bob paced. Into the bunker, out, then back in. He came out with three red cups. He handed one to Liv, she took it without saying thanks or looking, then he gave one to Mitch.

  “I appreciate it,” Mitch said,

  “I appreciate that we have it.” Bob brought the cup to his lips.

  “You haven’t said. What do you think?” Mitch.

  “Do I think the comet did what it did to the people on the plane and in those towns?”

  Mitch nodded.

  Bob lowered his voice even more. “Yeah, Yeah, I do. You?”

  Mitch pursed his lips, then nodded again.

  Bob looked over his shoulder at Liv. “I think she feels it. Any word from Buford?”

  “Nothing. I’m waiting for his call. I tried to call. No answer.”

  “Maybe he never went underground. Maybe he …”

  The ringing phone interrupted the quiet moment and causing Mitch to jolt. As he brought the phone to his ear, he watch Liv, she never reacted.

  “Buford,” Mitch said. “You alright?”

  “I’m fine. My team is fine.”

  “Do you know anything?” Mitch asked.

  “Nothing with certainty and nothing we can confirm as of yet. We just know … we know we haven’t been able to contact anyone.”

  “Jesus.”

  "Yeah,” Buford said with some exasperation. “I mean, there could be a communication breakdown.”

  “We’re talking.”

  “You and I are also using sat phones, which …” Buford nearly mumbled. “Makes no fucking sense considering what we’re dealing with. Right now I’m gonna keep calling. Maybe even try to get a hold of California considering they have another fifteen minutes.”

  “Get back to me if you hear anything.”

  “Sure will.”

  With a thinking inhale, Mitch hung up the call. “Nothing. He said he’s g
onna try to reach California.”

  “You know, maybe it’s localized like the small towns,” Bob said. “And if not, I mean, the west coast has to know something happened.”

  “You would think.”

  “What do we do now?”

  “We wait. We wait until the tail clears. Then we go up, we see. And hopefully,” Mitch said, finishing off his drink. “We run into a large amount of uptight people rushing to get to work. I’m gonna believe that until I know otherwise.”

  <><><><>

  How many times had Craig heard the saying, ‘There are no Atheists in foxholes’ even his own mother tossed it at him when he told her he didn’t believe in God.

  To which she replied, “Yeah, or a higher power, until you need to believe it.”

  Craig laughed. He laughed at anyone that threw it at him.

  He didn’t have time in his life for false hope by putting faith in a being that simply did not exist.

  There are no atheists in foxholes.

  Craig was about to prove his mother right.

  When the last of the bodies dissolved to the ground, leaving only a sludge pile topped by clothes, Craig ventured out of his restaurant.

  His very first thought was some sort of terror attack had occurred using a new type of biological weapon. Something different, frightening.

  He needed to get out of the area and to get help. The police cars not only flashed lights, but an idea into his head. If he couldn’t get into one and drive away, surely he could use the radio to call for help.

  “Please, let me get out of this place,” he begged. Yet to whom or what? It was in that second, right before he started to walk, that he realized he was praying.

  He was hoping, relying on a higher power to pull him through.

  The police cars weren’t far, he just had to make it through the party area. There were so many bodies, Craig viewed it as a mine field and he was careful where he stepped.

  His journey across the fifty feet was slow.

  “Please let me make it, please.”

  For the first ten feet his ankle throbbed, then it just stopped. He viewed that as a good thing, until the ground felt differently. With each step, each foot slightly sunk and Craig likened the sensation to walking on wet sand.