Tweet
Outrage
Part One.
David’s eyes flickered slowly open. He lay on his back staring up at the dark sky for what felt like an eternity. He felt awful. His head pounded and he felt like vomiting, he tried to move but found that this only made his head spin and his nausea worse. He vomited. The thick bile covered his chest and neck, the smell making him feel even worse but still he just lay there. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been unconscious. Wasn’t even sure why he’d been unconscious. He was sure however that this was not how he’d imagined it to be. He’d watched the movies, seen the big tough Hero guys get flattened by an explosion or smashed across the back of the head. Seen them fall knocked out to floor. And watched as they had woken, rubbed their eyes and got to their feet as if they’d just woken from a good nights sleep. To his utter disappointment he found the reality (as always) somewhat lacking.
He tried to rise again and this time managed to actually lift his head. The effort was almost overwhelming. He felt as if his own regular head had somehow been switched with a solid lead replica. A replica filled with sloshing water and about a ton of …well a ton of something that can make you feel like crap. He gave up and lay back down. Closing his eyes he tried to think back to what was going on just before he woke up, or got knocked out whichever way you want to look at it. He remembered nothing. He knew his name, David Charles Smith. Knew his address and date of birth. All of which came as a relief. At least he wasn’t suffering from Amnesia. His eyes were starting to hurt with the effort of keeping them shut so he opened them. Only to find this was worse. I bet old STALONE never felt like this. A smile cracked his lips, literally. The dry skin tore as it moved adding one more pain to his already extensive list. A burning in his throat that could only be stopped by a cold glass of clear fresh water quickly joined this.
“I gotta move.” David thought. Readying himself he took two deep breaths. And sat up. He appeared to be sitting in what had once been a building. What sort of building he couldn’t tell. Most of it was missing. There was no roof. Only half of a wall left up right. The rest of the “building” lay scattered in broken piles all around him. Through the space left by the now missing ceiling he could see that the sky was filled with a huge black pall of smoke. It seemed to hang menacingly over him. Over the piles of broken concrete and bricks he could see other buildings. Some seemed intact; others were, like his own little space, little more than broken shells.
Suddenly an image flickered across his vision. Something from before the blast. The Blast. That was it…there had been an explosion. He and little Jimmy and Chris had been sitting playing. Hang on. Where were jimmy and Chris? David’s head was suddenly a little clearer. Leaning forward he rested on his hands and knees before rising uneasily to his feet. Noticing for the first time that his jacket was soiled with his own vomit he slipped it off and dropped it to the floor. He stood swaying like a tree in a gale for a minute or two but gradually his sense of balance returned and the sickly feeling in the pit of his stomach subside. It returned quickly.
Chris lay just feet away. His left arm and leg were gone. Replaced by torn and bloody stumps that, in turn were attached to a torn and bloody torso. His eyes were wide in their sockets and his jaw hung open at a wholly unnatural angle. David vomited again. His legs buckled and he dropped back to his knees. This time he kept on vomiting. Long after he had ejected every ounce of fluid, and what seemed like his entire digestive system his stomach continued to cramp and his throat to retch. As soon as he was able David stood again. Catching sight of his friends mutilated corpse once more he turned and bolted through the piles of rubble. All thoughts of grogginess and nausea were gone as he stumbled over bricks and broken wood and out into what had once been a quiet suburban street. Only when he reached the end of his street did David stop. His heart pounded and his hands were shaking violently. He looked about him in shock and disbelief at the scene that confronted him. The city was burning.
Across the road, not a hundred meters from him, every house was engulfed in flames. The heat was intense. The flames were leaping high into the air and as he watched the house at the end of the block collapsed in upon itself in an eruption of smoke and flames. Sparks and cinders were sent pouring into the sky and out across the wide Avenue. On the right side the houses and trees were beginning to ignite also, either from these same embers or from the pure heat of the other fires. In the opposite direction the view was similar and if anything worse. Everything in that area seemed to be burning. David knew that that way led down into the city’s huge industrial area and realised with horror that some of the nations largest petro-chemical facilities were in that part of the city. The fumes from those fires would likely be toxic. He had to go. Now.
He turned to run. The road leading south seemed pretty clear. Only three or four houses along its length were burning and that road led out into the open countryside after only two or three miles. He set off running but pulled up short after only yards. In one of the houses he could hear someone screaming. It sounded like a girl, possibly a young woman. David shook his head and set of running again. He needed to get clear of the fires if he wanted to live. The girl/woman screamed again. His sense of self-preservation fought against his sense of chivalry and duty. The latter won. Spinning on his heals he tore towards the house where the screams originated.
It was a big old house. All ornate scroll works and huge windows and at three stories it dwarfed those on either side. But it was built from wood, unlike most in this area and already it was burning. The roof and second floor balcony were engulfed. Blazing like a blowtorch. The flames were yet to penetrate deep into the house but it was plain that anyone inside was in real danger. The screams were getting louder. As David reached the front door he found it locked and bolted from the inside. Taking a few steps back he threw his full weight into the door. He achieved nothing but nearly dislocating his shoulder. The door didn’t budge. He ran round the back.
The whole rear of the house was alight, from the ground floor right up to the roof, burning timbers were raining down in to the plush vegetation in the huge garden and already the trees and shrubs were starting to burn. The screaming was now constant and David feared whoever it was would be dead with seconds. He turned and raced back to the front of the house and without thinking threw himself bodily through one of the huge windows. He landed in a heap and shower of glass in a long elaborate dinning room. The table was made of the shiniest mahogany he’d ever seen, laid out ready for dinner with golden rimmed crockery and what appeared to be solid gold cutlery and ornate candlesticks. At the far end of the room flames were licking greedily through an open door way, ready to consume the deeply coloured wall hangings and precious paintings which adorned the walls. David bolted through the opposite door and into the house’s main hall. The screams were coming from the second floor. He took the stairs two at a time. He lost his footing, stumbled but continued up. As he reached the landing the ceiling above suddenly sagged, huge cracks criss-crossed the entire length of it. Through the cracks he could see the flames which were now devouring the third floor. They would be falling in on him in minutes.
The girl had now stopped screaming and David could not pin point her location. He tried the door nearest to him but found nothing behind it but a sheet of boiling flame. Behind the second he found a closet stuffed with linen and bedding. The third was a massive bedroom, its ceiling also close to collapse. The huge four poster bed dominating the room was all that held it up, and the flames were quickly eating its supports. Panic began to rise in his throat. He wasn’t going to find her. The ceiling was now groaning and shifting. Embers poured through the widening cracks constantly. The carpet beneath his feet was smouldering and smoking, threatening to ignite and burn him from below while the ceiling attempted to crush and burn him from above. “I must be crazy.” He said out loud. One more door lay before him and crossing his fingers he pushed the door open.
The girl was about ten; she was curled into a ball in the far corner of the room. She wore a satin pink dress that was stained and scorched by the heat. Her eyes were tight shut and tears had left clean trails through the ash on her cheeks. She was now whimpering softly and rocking slowly back and forth. David scooped her up in his arms and raced for the door. Behind him the ceiling where the girl had been sitting crashed inwards obliterating her once pristine bedroom. The girl didn’t react. She stayed curled into a ball in David’s arms as he stumbled down the now burning staircase. The landing above was sheathed in flame just seconds later as the ceiling there finally gave way also. The front door of the house was still locked but the keys were in the door. Struggling with the girl in his arms David finally managed to undo the last bolt and flew across the front lawn and into the street. Behind him, with a groan like a dying dragon the whole roof of the mansion finally admitted defeat and dropped down into the inferno below. As it went it dragged the walls in with it and with one last scream of rendering timbers the whole house tumbled in on itself.
David too collapsed into a heap. Setting the girl down he lay silently for a minute before looking about him. The fires were quickly spreading towards him and the girl now. Racing house to house up the streets. They were far from safe yet. Summoning his last reserves of energy he hoisted the girl up and stumbled off up the road, away from the flames and towards the safety of the countryside.
At least he hoped the countryside would be safe.
to be continued....
Part One.
David’s eyes flickered slowly open. He lay on his back staring up at the dark sky for what felt like an eternity. He felt awful. His head pounded and he felt like vomiting, he tried to move but found that this only made his head spin and his nausea worse. He vomited. The thick bile covered his chest and neck, the smell making him feel even worse but still he just lay there. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been unconscious. Wasn’t even sure why he’d been unconscious. He was sure however that this was not how he’d imagined it to be. He’d watched the movies, seen the big tough Hero guys get flattened by an explosion or smashed across the back of the head. Seen them fall knocked out to floor. And watched as they had woken, rubbed their eyes and got to their feet as if they’d just woken from a good nights sleep. To his utter disappointment he found the reality (as always) somewhat lacking.
He tried to rise again and this time managed to actually lift his head. The effort was almost overwhelming. He felt as if his own regular head had somehow been switched with a solid lead replica. A replica filled with sloshing water and about a ton of …well a ton of something that can make you feel like crap. He gave up and lay back down. Closing his eyes he tried to think back to what was going on just before he woke up, or got knocked out whichever way you want to look at it. He remembered nothing. He knew his name, David Charles Smith. Knew his address and date of birth. All of which came as a relief. At least he wasn’t suffering from Amnesia. His eyes were starting to hurt with the effort of keeping them shut so he opened them. Only to find this was worse. I bet old STALONE never felt like this. A smile cracked his lips, literally. The dry skin tore as it moved adding one more pain to his already extensive list. A burning in his throat that could only be stopped by a cold glass of clear fresh water quickly joined this.
“I gotta move.” David thought. Readying himself he took two deep breaths. And sat up. He appeared to be sitting in what had once been a building. What sort of building he couldn’t tell. Most of it was missing. There was no roof. Only half of a wall left up right. The rest of the “building” lay scattered in broken piles all around him. Through the space left by the now missing ceiling he could see that the sky was filled with a huge black pall of smoke. It seemed to hang menacingly over him. Over the piles of broken concrete and bricks he could see other buildings. Some seemed intact; others were, like his own little space, little more than broken shells.
Suddenly an image flickered across his vision. Something from before the blast. The Blast. That was it…there had been an explosion. He and little Jimmy and Chris had been sitting playing. Hang on. Where were jimmy and Chris? David’s head was suddenly a little clearer. Leaning forward he rested on his hands and knees before rising uneasily to his feet. Noticing for the first time that his jacket was soiled with his own vomit he slipped it off and dropped it to the floor. He stood swaying like a tree in a gale for a minute or two but gradually his sense of balance returned and the sickly feeling in the pit of his stomach subside. It returned quickly.
Chris lay just feet away. His left arm and leg were gone. Replaced by torn and bloody stumps that, in turn were attached to a torn and bloody torso. His eyes were wide in their sockets and his jaw hung open at a wholly unnatural angle. David vomited again. His legs buckled and he dropped back to his knees. This time he kept on vomiting. Long after he had ejected every ounce of fluid, and what seemed like his entire digestive system his stomach continued to cramp and his throat to retch. As soon as he was able David stood again. Catching sight of his friends mutilated corpse once more he turned and bolted through the piles of rubble. All thoughts of grogginess and nausea were gone as he stumbled over bricks and broken wood and out into what had once been a quiet suburban street. Only when he reached the end of his street did David stop. His heart pounded and his hands were shaking violently. He looked about him in shock and disbelief at the scene that confronted him. The city was burning.
Across the road, not a hundred meters from him, every house was engulfed in flames. The heat was intense. The flames were leaping high into the air and as he watched the house at the end of the block collapsed in upon itself in an eruption of smoke and flames. Sparks and cinders were sent pouring into the sky and out across the wide Avenue. On the right side the houses and trees were beginning to ignite also, either from these same embers or from the pure heat of the other fires. In the opposite direction the view was similar and if anything worse. Everything in that area seemed to be burning. David knew that that way led down into the city’s huge industrial area and realised with horror that some of the nations largest petro-chemical facilities were in that part of the city. The fumes from those fires would likely be toxic. He had to go. Now.
He turned to run. The road leading south seemed pretty clear. Only three or four houses along its length were burning and that road led out into the open countryside after only two or three miles. He set off running but pulled up short after only yards. In one of the houses he could hear someone screaming. It sounded like a girl, possibly a young woman. David shook his head and set of running again. He needed to get clear of the fires if he wanted to live. The girl/woman screamed again. His sense of self-preservation fought against his sense of chivalry and duty. The latter won. Spinning on his heals he tore towards the house where the screams originated.
It was a big old house. All ornate scroll works and huge windows and at three stories it dwarfed those on either side. But it was built from wood, unlike most in this area and already it was burning. The roof and second floor balcony were engulfed. Blazing like a blowtorch. The flames were yet to penetrate deep into the house but it was plain that anyone inside was in real danger. The screams were getting louder. As David reached the front door he found it locked and bolted from the inside. Taking a few steps back he threw his full weight into the door. He achieved nothing but nearly dislocating his shoulder. The door didn’t budge. He ran round the back.
The whole rear of the house was alight, from the ground floor right up to the roof, burning timbers were raining down in to the plush vegetation in the huge garden and already the trees and shrubs were starting to burn. The screaming was now constant and David feared whoever it was would be dead with seconds. He turned and raced back to the front of the house and without thinking threw himself bodily through one of the huge windows. He landed in a heap and shower of glass in a long elaborate dinning room. The table was made of the shiniest mahogany he’d ever seen, laid out ready for dinner with golden rimmed crockery and what appeared to be solid gold cutlery and ornate candlesticks. At the far end of the room flames were licking greedily through an open door way, ready to consume the deeply coloured wall hangings and precious paintings which adorned the walls. David bolted through the opposite door and into the house’s main hall. The screams were coming from the second floor. He took the stairs two at a time. He lost his footing, stumbled but continued up. As he reached the landing the ceiling above suddenly sagged, huge cracks criss-crossed the entire length of it. Through the cracks he could see the flames which were now devouring the third floor. They would be falling in on him in minutes.
The girl had now stopped screaming and David could not pin point her location. He tried the door nearest to him but found nothing behind it but a sheet of boiling flame. Behind the second he found a closet stuffed with linen and bedding. The third was a massive bedroom, its ceiling also close to collapse. The huge four poster bed dominating the room was all that held it up, and the flames were quickly eating its supports. Panic began to rise in his throat. He wasn’t going to find her. The ceiling was now groaning and shifting. Embers poured through the widening cracks constantly. The carpet beneath his feet was smouldering and smoking, threatening to ignite and burn him from below while the ceiling attempted to crush and burn him from above. “I must be crazy.” He said out loud. One more door lay before him and crossing his fingers he pushed the door open.
The girl was about ten; she was curled into a ball in the far corner of the room. She wore a satin pink dress that was stained and scorched by the heat. Her eyes were tight shut and tears had left clean trails through the ash on her cheeks. She was now whimpering softly and rocking slowly back and forth. David scooped her up in his arms and raced for the door. Behind him the ceiling where the girl had been sitting crashed inwards obliterating her once pristine bedroom. The girl didn’t react. She stayed curled into a ball in David’s arms as he stumbled down the now burning staircase. The landing above was sheathed in flame just seconds later as the ceiling there finally gave way also. The front door of the house was still locked but the keys were in the door. Struggling with the girl in his arms David finally managed to undo the last bolt and flew across the front lawn and into the street. Behind him, with a groan like a dying dragon the whole roof of the mansion finally admitted defeat and dropped down into the inferno below. As it went it dragged the walls in with it and with one last scream of rendering timbers the whole house tumbled in on itself.
David too collapsed into a heap. Setting the girl down he lay silently for a minute before looking about him. The fires were quickly spreading towards him and the girl now. Racing house to house up the streets. They were far from safe yet. Summoning his last reserves of energy he hoisted the girl up and stumbled off up the road, away from the flames and towards the safety of the countryside.
At least he hoped the countryside would be safe.
to be continued....
Thank God he escaped the house in time 
What can I say, that was fantastic writing 
Comment