Deus Ex Diluvium (Ryden)

The Tree

Ryan could smell the sea.

Which was surprising, considering he lived in the middle of a desert.

Yet there it was, the familiar scent of salt and nostalgia, wafting over him.

And with it came a wave. Not of water, although there was no denying that that existed too, but of people. Screaming, crying, confused, feral people. Ordinary, civilised people transformed into savages by the vulgar and unexpected appearance of the end of the world.

Not that Ryan thought the world would actually end. He didn't really even consider such a thing possible. Even if some catastrophe- accidental or planned, it hardly matters- wiped out humanity, the earth itself would continue to saunter merrily through space, possibly even better off.

It was however, the end of Ryan's life, which would be just as bad as the end of the world, if Ryan actually cared about the end of either. Luckily, he was indifferent. Some may have slapped the term 'nihilist' on him, but to Ryan it was just pure and simple boredom.

He was wedged between couple of decorative trees on the edge of the pavement, watching the flood of clambering bodies rush past him, and the flood of freezing sea water rush towards him. He refused to die trapped in a mesh of other people's limbs.

The wave had already swallowed his flat, he noticed. It had been far more expensive than a place in its condition had any right to be and, ironically, the running water had never been properly fixed no matter how many tired, angry letters he'd sent. He assumed the water was running just fine now.

An elbow slammed into his ribs, making him wince and stumble out into the fray. Within seconds the storm of bodies had enveloped him, like bacteria swarming over a piece of rotten meat. Except all these bacteria wanted was to survive, not caring at all for the dissatisfaction of the meat, and Ryan really couldn't blame them for that. In fact, he wished with all his heart for them all to get to safety. But wishing wasn't going to do anyone any good, so he ignored his heart and focussed on his mind.

Ryan was neither a quick thinker nor a problem solver, despite the many times he'd said the words in job interviews, successfully landing him a job he hated. In situations like these, where you run with the crowd or get run over by it, its hard to think at all, nevermind think of something that would actually work.

All his head offered up was 'out, out, out,' and, simple though the instruction was, it wasn't a bad idea. With his heart acting all sentimental and his head being annoyingly repetitive, all Ryan could do was trust his feet to guide him to safety, or at least to solitude. Safety was a false hope, a cruel joke, but solitude would provide some temporary comfort and temporary was all he had left now.

It was difficult trying to push past people rather than just letting them force him forward, but he had the vague idea that if he could make it to the buildings lining the street he'd be out of the worst of it. Maybe he could even find his way into an empty house and wait for it all to be over.

It disturbed him though, the thought of his dead body floating in some stranger's kitchen.

As it happened, it wasn't a door he found his way to, but a driveway leading to a paved courtyard. He'd passed this particular building hundreds of times over the past few months, but never paid much attention to it. It was surprisingly ornate, considering the part of town it's in, which is notable mainly for its pizza shops and dubious tattoo parlours. He assumed it was full of offices for people important enough to have their names on shining gold plaques outside the door.

He didn't stop to read them, as there was something else that interested him far more.

Now that screams and footsteps weren't blaring so directly in his ears, he could hear another sound above them: the heavy whir and chop of machinery.