Dawn Of The Day

The Way Home

The floors continued to collapse. One after another, ISO13 solution ate through them like a hungry slug, leaving nothing behind but a soup of concrete, metal, and everything in between. The wormhole in the building's center resembled a lake of mercury, straight out of Hell, filled to the rim with boiling liquid.  

The men squeezed through a small door into the lobby. There was not much left. Dust and steam clouded up, choking them. Edgar didn't see any security guard, dead or alive, along the way. He hoped that he wouldn't.

Edgar fixed the gas mask with his free hand. “Damn it,” he spat. 
 
They were not in the clear until they got off the company's property. The building waved from left to right like a giant taunting hand.
 
“Almost there,” Edgar mumbled to Robert, who had just made a sound in his dream. The guy still refused to wake up. 
 
It had been too damn late. Robert should have known better not to do anything without the gas mask, but Edgar could have reminded him too. They were both out of their mind. Edgar shook his head.
 
He pushed the main entrance's glass door with his body. The building's security system had been down. The escape felt a little too easy, but Edgar took that. He could feel the exhaustion deep in his bones. He was strong but this was the limit. Edgar's vision was cloudy, his lungs were on fire, and Robert sagged down every few minutes, making the down-and-out trip almost impossible. Edgar could manage though. This was nothing. He had survived worse.

The plan had gone better than anyone could've expected, judging by this sight, but there was no way to tell for sure.

Not until the war stops, and things go back to normal, Edgar thought. 
 
The moon was high up in the star-littered sky, but Edgar could see rays of sunlight on the horizon. “I'm ready to go home, how about you?” He asked his unconscious friend before making a run for the gate. 
 
*** 
The truck sped up, crushing every small stone and garbage on its way. The symphony of crushing and crunching didn't bother Edgar. Matter of fact, it didn't reach him at all. His mind was a thousand miles away, but worries anchored him to reality. The man grabbed his driving wheel with both hands until blood drained from his knuckles.  

“Damn it, Robert…” Edgar's eyes dashed to the passenger seat. 

He was covered from head to toe in cement dust, and so was his friend. Robert should have woken up by now if it was some natural gases he had inhaled. Such as propane or butane. Methane would be a little trickier, but the byproduct gases from the ISO13 reactions were true wild cards. They had not been tested to the full extent and that was unfortunate.

No hospitals or clinics nearby still operated. Maybe back in Nova Aria, but they had to leave.

What a disaster.

Edgar had driven all night to get as far away as he could. It would not take long for them to know. Definitely not long to react. He wanted to chew his friend's head off, but, at the same time, he blamed himself.

The old truck groaned when Edgar transferred his anger and frustration to its gas pedal. 

“Soon…” he mumbled, “I know you want to rest. So do I... So do I...”    

Soon, Edgar would be at his cabin—then would be back to its original state of security and isolation. Soon, he would sit on the porch and get mad at the stupid cows or the stupid townspeople like in the old days. Soon, this journey would be over. It had taken everything out of him. Years of his life. Soon...

“Holy Sweet Mother of God!”

Edgar swerved the truck just in time to avoid a huge rock in the middle of the road. “Goddamn it! Where the hell did it come from?” He poked his head outside the window and screamed in the wind.  

“Uhmmm…”

Next to him, Robert lifted his hand in slow motion to touch the part of his head that had just hit the window. 

“Oh, welcome back to the land of the living! About the damn time!“ Edgar laughed like a maniac.

“I'm not sure I'll stay in the land of the living if you drive like that…” 

“Don’t knock my driving! You were sleeping!”

“That's true,” Robert exhaled. 

“How are you feeling, man?” Edgar asked. 

“Better."

Robert still saw double, and his lungs were scorched, but it was much more tolerable than before. At least, he knew that he had survived. Barely. 

Robert watched the scenery fly by. His mind could finally calm down. From big stores' billboards to suburban roofs, and then endless green, it felt that home was not far away.

The thought warmed him up from the inside out. Robert took off his glasses to wipe them on his shirt. The mountain's cool air soothed him. 

“What do you think they are doing at the moment?” He asked. 

Edgar shrugged, “Whatever they always do... If you wonder what she is doing, you could just say so.”

Robert responded with a chuckle. Right, what was she doing? What was next? His heart pounded a little faster and the tingling spread down to his toes as the truck passed a familiar part of the forest. Slowly, it waded through a shallow stream where they had fished with Vince, Charlie, and General Haynes sometimes. After that, the red metal gate leading to Edgar's cabin appeared with multiple 'Keep Out' signs. 

“Home, finally!” Edgar jumped out of the truck and walked over to punch in a code.

The gate yawned open. Edgar then returned to the vehicle and drove it to the cabin.

There it was, at the end of the dirt road, looking the same as ever, but Robert had never felt happier at the mere sight of it. He supposed, so was Edgar.

“Honey, we're hom—" Edgar's words stuck in his throat as he opened the truck's door. “Someone is here.”