Flashf0rward

Prologue: Let There Be Light

The Man

I never considered myself to be a holy man. At least, not a dedicated one. Janet and I would always go to church on Sundays, pray with others, read the Bible, and do all that. But I never thought of myself as religious. Janet certainly was. She would clutch that book in her hands every single night before we went to bed and whisper the Lord's Prayer to herself. I let her do it, not wanting to drive anything between us by interfering.

I suppose I just never really understood it. My father always said to me that religion was a way for people to gather together because of something they believed in. People do that all the time, this was just a fancier way of doing so. My father always had a way of explaining things that helped them make more sense.

When he died, I asked myself if there was a God, and if so, why did he take my father from me? He was a good and honest man who did no wrong in this world. Why did he deserve to die? Janet told me that God has a plan for everyone, and when it is there time to go, they must do so. I didn't know whether to believe her or not, so I didn't say anything.

The day I saw God for the first time began like any other day. I was sitting on the porch of our house, moving back and forth in the old rocking chair that Janet's mother had given to us as a housewarming gift, looking out at the countryside that was full of grain and wheat, hoping that the crops would grow well and strong this year. I could hear Janet from inside the house, humming a soft tune as she washed the dishes from breakfast. I would always remember that tune in the days to come.

The next second, the sky opened up, and a bright flash almost blinded me. I looked up to see a wave of blue light streaking across the sky, one so bright and brilliant I had to shield my eyes from it. Looking through my opened fingers, I watched as the wave flowed by us, then disappeared into the distance.

Not knowing what to do, I was frozen until I heard Janet's voice from inside. "What was that, honey?" I turned to her and looked at her through the window. I could see the fear and panic that was starting to rise up in her eyes. She had no idea what she had just seen either, but judging by her upbringing and the Bible she was clutching in her hands, she might have had one or two guesses.

Walking into the house, I put my hands on her shoulders. "Janet, listen to me. I don't know what that was, but I'm sure it's nothing. Just some crazy weather-" I was interrupted by the most haunting scream I'd ever heard in my life. Now, our small farm was in the middle of nowhere in Southern Texas, but we had a few neighbours that were a mile or two away. There was nothing else out here, no planes, no cars, nothing to drown out the noise. Those screams were coming from our neighbours houses.

A chill ran up my spine. I didn't know what was happening or how, but the only thing I could think of to do was the most logical thought that came to my mind. "The storm cellar, quick!" We'd gotten a few tornadoes around this area in our time here, and thankfully this small cabin we'd bought had come equipped with a shelter for us to hide in. Right now, I thought that it would be the safest place to be in. I was wrong.

Running out the back of the house, I unlocked the doors as I heard the screaming continue in the background, mixed in with cries for help and wet noises I didn't even want to think about. Finally, the door opened and I looked back. "Janet, come on!" She was looking in the direction of the neighbour's house, no doubt paralyzed by the noises. "Janet! Please!" I grabbed her arm and pulled her down the steps, shutting the door and locking it behind us.

The noises were thankfully muffled by the door, and I turned on the small bulb that I'd installed by pulling the chain. The tiny room was illuminated. There was a small cot, two chairs, a radio system, and boxes upon boxes of non-perishable and canned food. I had prepared for something like this to happen, because my father had told me that I could never be too careful.