As We Know It
by Ben Clayton
In between the edges of perception, there are hiccups
in time and space. It is something, that they say, is completely
missed by their scientific instruments. Instruments used to
notify us, though not to protect us, from a devastating meteoroid or other catastrophic even, as it anchors itself to us;
destined to reduce our sky to dust and to leave many of us
choking on ash; choking and likely suffering from radiation
poisoning. That was the blurb that flashed in my mind from
my school’s nuclear paranoid training, but then, was it now
so paranoid?
I remember the event. It was sudden exposure, a flash,
followed by deafening sounds.
Terrified people lined the streets, while silence ran the
radio and the television waves. Teens likely died from the
shock of not being able to find a connection for their portable devices. In that darkness, I moved from the street and
away from the alarms and screams. Finding a spot that felt
safe, I turned a corner into an alley and opened my phone.
Swearing from my previous revelation, the screen was gray.
There was no reception.
People screamed and babies cried. Everyone choked in
the heavy dust. Blinded and cowering, my eyes began adjusting, and I looked around. Car alarms bellowed forth. As
people continued to call out, an overwhelming sound struck.
Deafening, the terrible crisis rang through, bringing all to
their knees in pain.
As my senses began to return, I looked up to find that
the sky was quickly going gray, and not the gray of storms
moving in. There was a bleakness to it, a purpose it seemed,
pushing forth. And with patient strides, it moved over and
beyond us, bringing darkness.
Initially, my worry was selfish. I wanted out of there.
I wanted to get home. It was not an effort to escape to my
home, but to my mothe r’s home on the farm. I needed to be
sure that she was safe.
I waited for the dark to pass. It could have been hours,
or perhaps it was days. Amidst sleep and wake, I shuddered
from the lack of warmth. I realized I needed to move or I
would die in that spot.
Moving slowly in the black, I felt my way around,
bumping into things, tripping over objects, both hard and
soft. There were moans and screams in the distance, but I did
only what I could do. I kept moving. I stumbled slowly in the
direction that I felt was away from the city. It was the direction that I felt was toward home.
It’s unimaginable how long it took, and how quiet it
had become, but suddenly, there was a ray of light. A single
solitary ray, from the sky, ruptured the darkness. It seemed as
if it was the brightest light that I’d ever seen. My eyes felt as if
they would explode, but they didn’t. They adjusted.
There was dust covering the the road, the trees, the
plants and the grass. I was on the highway, heading out of
town, and all vehicles were stopped in both directions. All
of them were empty. Left and forgotten, covered in the
thick tears of darkness that now buried everything.
I was alone. But I smiled. I was headed in the correct direction. I was headed home. Parched and hungry,
I put one foot forward, and then the other, determined to
find my mother.
A simple statement is always easier said than done.
Considering that the sign on the highway pronounced
the one hundred and fifty miles that I needed to overcome, and on foot it seemed, I was dehydrated and wishing for anything worth eating. At least there was still the
sliver of light. I could still see.
Common sense took over; I was like a robot. With
the vehicles empty, I searched them for food or water.
Finally, I came up lucky. I found a half empty water bottle and an untouched energy bar. I vomited the first two
gulps of water back up, but I remained determined, and
slowly, taking much smaller sips and at longer intervals, I
was able to keep it down. I sat, I rested, and I fell asleep.
Waking in the night, cold and curled up next to
something unpleasant. Shivering, I stood, working out
the knots in my legs, and began hopping around for
warmth. Attempting to get my bearings, a stream of light
began to rise, cutting through the dust. I was able to
make out my direction again.
I was only 30 miles from home. It was time to take
the back roads. I rubbed my encrusted eyes. Taking the
first exit off the main road and then a left onto an old
gravel road that I would drive to the city in my late teens.
There were no more vehicles sitting empty and lifeless
anymore, but along with the debris, some of the dust was
replaced by burned patches of grass, plants and crops.
The first two houses appeared empty, but at the
third, there were four people on the porch. From a distance, it appeared to be a young sickly thin woman in
a short dress holding a baby. There was a man beside
her with a short, rough beard and ball cap, and elderly
man in a rocker, also wearing a ball cap. Walking toward
them, their eyes followed me, but beyond that they didn’t
move. It was when I was entering their driveway that I
began to notice their skin color. They were all pale and
covered in lesions, some of which were oozing a green,
yellow viscous fluid. They had varying lumps and swelling on their faces, arms and legs.
Still just watching, but not moving, I hesitantly
waved to them. They continued to watch, but did not
respond. Moving closer now, I could see their eyes. They
were bloodshot and held a weight of fear. Slowly, the
elderly man stood, and together they backed away, into
the confines of their home, closing the large front door
behind them. The click of the lock engaging was all that
was heard.
Feeling my own fear creeping up in my throat in
the form of a bile, I turned and began to walk away. It
was then that my stomach first became unsettled. Having
had nothing to eat or drink since the energy bar, I bent
over to vomit, but released nothing. When my stomach