Feb 12, 2018

The Day the Earth died: Father’s Warrior



The Day the Earth died

Father’s Warrior

Chapter 1


It was hot. Too hot. The sweat did not have time to liquefy till the heat dried it on your body. It made little sense for it was still early morning. No one had even made it to work yet. By the looks of things, they would not.


The air was off. Not intentionally or for lack of trying. It just would not work. It was working. It had been before I headed for bed last night. I heard the chatter as it clicked on and fell asleep to the comforting noise it always made but woke to silence.


Not even the ticking of the clock could soothe my nerves. What ticking? The clock was not ticking. I tried my cell phone for a weather report, but it was not working either. It was fully charged so why? There was no signal. I wandered through the house in my weakened state trying to get a signal. Where there were usually four bars, I had none.


I went to the bathroom. I could wait no longer. My face felt the flames from the heat and as I looked in the mirror I saw my face, and it terrified me. Even on my worst sunburned days, it was never this red. I removed my pajama top. It was long sleeved because as I said before the air had been on.


My arms were blistered and peeling. Removing my pajama bottoms I saw the same thing. I covered myself in aloe gel and as I headed for my bedroom to put on some other clothes the lights flickered, then darkness.


I almost screamed in pain as my blistered knee hit the coffee table. There should be a flashlight in the drawer of the table. I searched for it and found it. Thank goodness it was still there.


Shining the light, I made my way into the bedroom. I had a battery powered clock on the wall and shone the light to see what time it actually was. What? No. It could not have stopped working. I just put new batteries in there. Now neither clock was ticking.


It had stopped at 3:00 A.M. I knew it was later than that for I could see the sun through the window, and feel the heat rising. I grabbed an old floppy housedress and threw it on. I would open the curtains and doors even though the heat would come in. I needed light.


As I opened the door the heat hit head-on. screams everywhere. Why had I not heard the screams before? I screamed. Well, I tried to anyway, but I could not. I was frozen. I could not move.


I had to move. I knew it. Where should I go? Which direction? I was worried that I could not outrun the flames, but I had too. If I wanted to survive I needed to move and move now.

I shut the front door, not that it would do much good. I ran for the back door. I did not grab anything. There was no time too.


As I ran I prayed for the ones caught in the flames and prayed for myself to escape them. The town was a raging inferno and there was no hope for the people trapped.

The tears dried on my face as quick as they were released. My feet were blistering, and I felt a tiredness like I had never felt before.


I tried to fight the lethargy that was taking my strength. I tried to fight the insane thirst that struck, but I was losing the battle.


Tripping over something I went down and stayed down. All I could do was stare at the charred body before me. The sightless eyes had me mesmerized. I wanted to move, but I could not. One more minute. Just one more minute to pray for this soul that lay before me.


"Get up. Get up, now." The words finally penetrated my brain. I tried to turn and look, but I could not move. "Get up or we will leave you here."


"Help her up. I am not leaving her behind." I felt myself being lifted and wanted to scream with the pain, but my mouth was to dry. I knew I was moving, though. Moving fast. I felt water over my face and dribbling in my mouth.


Opening my eyes, I realized we were in a convertible. Someone was pouring water on me, and I was safe...for the time being. Or was I?

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