"Fucking hell, the flight to Barcelona got sent early. The storm- it- it- it fucked with the systems here, all the flights changed, all flights to and from Asia and America got cancelled. Which makes sense, but... it's affecting things here. Already. The phone signals keep going out, TVs have gone out and—"
There was an announcement over the loudspeaker, "due to a newly occurring phenomenon, everyone is required to evacuate the airport."
She continued on the phone, "is there anyone who can pick me up?! I need to get to Barcelona."
The voice on the other end went silent, "I'm sorry, Melania."
She shouted, "you fucking asshole!" The people around looked to her, prompting her to speak now in a loud whisper, "please. I-I'm begging you, send someone... please."
The voice continued, "Melania, you already know this. There is no flights available for you. I'm sorry, but that's how it is. You missed your chance."
Melania shook her head, "you can't be serious. I'm the one who figured this out! Duval did that fucking speech on Saturday but I am the one who told her! Me - Alison - me!"
"Melania. It makes no difference. This is how it is. We had to send people in through civilian flights for a reason. Keep it undercover. Maybe you should've been here on time."
"We were supposed to get on the same flight! It left early!"
"It left early for a reason."
"What?"
"I said what I said."
"Alison... did- did you do this? Did you fuck up the system?! Did you send that flight an hour early?!"
She stayed silent.
"Okay Alison, I see how it is. Send a plane early, leave another hundred passengers stranded in London, when you know full fucking well that bunker is right there in Barcelona."
"We don't even know if the Barcelona bunker is secure. Duval said-"
"Fuck Duval! Fuck Duval and fuck you!" She hung up the phone.
Melania sat down, next to a young boy. Around fifteen or sixteen. He turned his phone on, "hi mum, um... I was trying to get on the plane to Barcelona, but... it left early. I'll try to get one tomorrow. Yes, okay, I'll see you tomorrow then. Love you mum."
He sighed, staring down at his phone screen.
Melania teared up. He looked at her, "are you alright miss?"
She groaned, "go south."
"Wh-"
"This afternoon, England will be destroyed. Go south. Into the channel tunnel."
"Lady, I-"
She pulled money from her bag, "two hundred pound. Get a bus to Folkestone, get into the channel tunnel. Stay down there. The water should block the radiation?"
"What radiation?"
"I can't explain now. Your family will be safe in Barcelona," she stood up, "you will die if you stay in London, kid."
She muttered, "at least one person working for United Nations can give a shit."
She walked off, leaving the young boy sitting idly with over two hundred pound in his hands.
He furrowed his brow, silently slipping the money into his pocket, "what the fuck..."
He opened his phone, looking on Instagram.
The top trending hashtag was now #blackoutcalifornia
He furrowed his brow, scrolling through.
A video of a young man holding his phone, a city shrouded in fire behind him, "I'm in Las Vegas right now. It's been an hour since this city went offline completely. And... the scene here is disgusting. There's... corpses everywhere. We don't know why."
The video showed the Las Vegas strip, the sun sitting faintly over the edge of the horizon. Corpses everywhere. Crashed cars, buses, bicycles. The charred scraps of a helicopter crashed into a hotel.
The young boy looked in horror. He continued scrolling. A security feed from the Golden Gate Bridge.
A few cars driving on the bridge, three in the morning. The lights flickered, switching off for a few seconds. When the lights returned, all the cars began swerving, crashing into dividers and each other.
Birds fell from the sky, smacking into the steel support beams and falling onto the crashed cars.
The boy switched his phone off, muttering to himself, "fucking hell..."
He silently approached the door leading out to the bus station. He looked around, people sitting around acting like cities were not in ruins.
Outside, people walking to and from the airport. A man on the phone was speaking Japanese, "hai, hai- huh... koibito? Anatawa doko... desu ka? Hanako, koibito. Hanako, Daijōbu? Hanako? Hanako?!"
The boy became shaky as he approached a bus, the sign on the front reading 'to Folkestone' he sighed, "okay... this... better not be a joke."
He stepped up to the driver, grabbing the money.
YOU ARE READING
Hiraeth: Cities To Embers
Science Fiction'It came from outer space' or 'it was a bioweapon gone awry' The day a commercial airliner departs from London and a group of school students return from a trip to Paris, is also the day a disaster of biblical proportions begins to wipe out both hum...
