It had been a long time since David had to actually read the Guardspointe Handbook because he did not know what exactly what to do. Car accidents nearby amidst pseudo-natural disasters were not covered in the hiring orientation. Then he remembered the solar storm and was forced to stop himself from getting worked up. There was too much going on and he could feel his nerves becoming more and more frazzled.
There was a softer boom, this an orange glow arose from behind the hedge of trees. David swore as he reached for the phone. No sooner did he place the receiver to his ear, it erupted in a high pitched squeal. David, now thoroughly unnerved, jumped away from the desk, the chair skittering away on its rollers. David’s heart thundered in his chest. He hesitantly grabbed the radio, which he thought should have been green. He keyed the talk button cautiously, and when it chirped casually, switched the channel for the guard internal frequency.
“Chris, this is David,” David called. “Whats going on out there? Can you see the wreck?”
The silent crackle of radio was the only response. David called several more times but to no avail. Chris might be out there helping, but he probably went home already. David swore at himself for forgetting to call him sooner, but he had been calm about the solar storm.
David grabbed the first aid kit from under the desk and made his way to the parking lot. The gate guard shack was about 250 meters away, but David surprised himself how quickly he was able to run to it. Inside the vacant workspace, David could see the CCTV displays glitching and flickering quietly over the neglected controls. Chris’s jacket was gone but his E-cigarette was laying on the desk. David grabbed the large Maglite flashlight from its charging rack and rushed outside. The wreck was near the short winding road that led to the gate. He jogged steadily this time. He found himself ducking, his eyes scanning the brush across the highway for tracer fire or muzzle flash. It had been years since he had last seen fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan had been a waste of time, but the old visions and the memory of his hands kept coming back. David paused to collect himself again, the first-aid kit held firmly over his solar plexus while the flashlight scanned the area.
“Hello!?” David yelled.
Flame and black smoke stared silently back at him amidst the swirling orange lightning overhead. David moved as close to the car as his resistance would allow. His experience, which flashed before his eyes, told him that the telltale signs of a body in the burning vehicle were absent. Slightly relieved, David sought the survivor. With his PTSD subsided, he could fully take in the details. A strange protrusion had formed in the middle of the street. The unsuspecting car had collided with it full on without enough time for the breaks to slow its approach. David figured that the protrusion probably blended in with the rest of the road. David looked around and found another Maglight nearby, its stream casting a broken beam along a part in the grass on the far side of the highway. As if by cue, someone screamed from deep in the shadows of tall grass. Spurred, David rushed after it.
The screaming continued. David called out for a response but soon found the voice cut off. The trail was easy to follow. David found the victim soon. A dark figure was looming over the flailing body, throttling him. Without thinking, David lept towards the attacker, using the flashlight like a club. When it connected it was as if he had struck a water balloon. The makeshift weapon seemed to sink into the body as if it had been made of rubber. The stroke seemed to halt until the dark figure’s body ruptured around the trauma. With a gust of wind, the attacker jerked back and evaporated. The victim continued to thrash silently in the brush. David tried to calm the person, but could not tell what the damage was done. It was like a black hood had been wrapped around the persons face and despite his efforts, the wounded person continued to flail and avoid his aid.
With an even more thunderous boom, the car exploded sending a massive red fireball into the air. The illumination revealed the nature of the victim’s wounds. David could see that the man’s head and chest were missing. As if he had heard the explosion, the victim seemed to flail, even more, knocking the flashlight out of David’s hands. The flashlight fell into the wound and continued to fall. And fall. And fall. David stared silently whilst the flashlight continued tumbling down as if it had been dropped into a bottomless well that move around it. David could not figure out what was going on. The flashlight continued to fall inside to black void inside the car wreck victim whose body continued to flail like a headless chicken. He would have been stuck there forever had the man not struck David indirectly, jarring him from his fugue.
David rose and stepped backward away. He wanted to help, but his mind refused to allow him any nearer to the strange thing the man had become. Running and screaming were first and foremost on his mind. David backed away slowly, watching the body kick and flail silently in the dying light of the burning car. The further away he moved, the more his senses seemed to return. David turned away. His mind finally seemed to process what was going on, but refused to make any sense of it. Nor would it allow him to turn back towards the person in need. All David seemed to be able to do is stomp drunkenly away back towards the burning remains of the car. David marched past it and directly through the hedge. Across the parking lot and into the plant lobby. As he had done numerous times, David mechanically began to pack up his belongings.
James C Gilliam 