A Walk Down Third

A walk down third


'What the hell have I done?' he thought, as he stood overwhelmed by the moment.

“Sir we need to go…” stressed the woman opposite him.

‘Have I really…I can’t have’

“…completely undetectable, it’s the way they are built”

‘But it seemed right though…they deserved it after what they did!’

“There’s nothing we can do sir…”

‘It can’t be
real can It?’

“…they’re going to have to seal it off soon sir, we need to go…”

‘Dear God,
this is real.
I… but… What have I done!’

“Sir! We need to go, now!”

He looked up. Her words had been washing over him, barely making the connections in his brain.

“Sarah please, just give me a minute alone. I need to think.”

“Sir, with all respect, we don’t have a minute to spare. We really need to be gone by now. You can think down there,” she said, as she started to turn towards the door.

“I’d sooner think up here…” The words froze her. She turned back around. She struggled to form the words in her mouth and placed one hand on the desk next to her for support, “…you aren’t seriously suggesting this are you? I mean really, you can’t be… are you serious?”

He paused for a moment, contemplating his response. “Deadly… Now go before they seal it up. You’re a good person; I don’t want you to miss your chance because of me. Now, your final order is to go.” He outstretched his hand and she took it. There was a silence of understanding between them for a moment but then she let go and turned and left the office, leaving him alone.

The shadows of a three o’ clock sun were cast through the windows of the now static office, muting the usual brightness of the room. He sat back heavily on the seat, thinking of everyone downstairs. I could have been there, he thought drumming his fingers on the desk, I wonder what will happen after, what things will be like…
He stood up for a moment and looked out of the window. He decided he’d take a walk.

The path stretched out deep into the heart of a sycamore patch and then swooped to the right behind the primrose bushes. It was one of his favourite walks. The familiar crunch of gravel greeted his feet as he started out onto the path but things felt different for a change. The world around him was like a picture brought into focus, clearer and sharper, more feeling behind them. It felt like the very earth beneath his feet had energy and life and that everywhere and everything was resonating. He looked around, expecting to see flocks of people to justify this rupture of energy, but there was nobody…
The whole place was deserted.

The path came to an end so he turned onto the sidewalk and sat on the steps of the old museum. He looked up at the traffic lights, the red ‘Don’t Walk’ sign glowing warmly. Don’t Walk, that’s fitting. I wonder if anyone else is reading it, waiting to walk. I’d hate to be a traffic post, mind you if they’d carry on after it, it wouldn’t be that bad. Changing for no one. Red to Green, Green to red…
Shouldn’t you be thinking about what’s happened? He thought. Not some stupid traffic lights. He tried to think of something else but he knew he would have to face it sooner or later.
He couldn’t remember actually thinking it through, the action had just taken him, instinctively. They had attacked us to undermine me, I’m sure of it. I couldn’t have responded in any other way, could I? I needed to be strong. I - I was angry. I was only doing what was right and now they’ve returned the favour. I guess we’re even…
He started to grow restless of sitting. I’ll move in a minute but I’ll wait ‘till the lights turn green. That’s if they are still working. Ill take it as a sign to move if they change. If they don’t then I guess I’ll just sit some more here. The seconds passed by. Nothing seemed to be happening. I guess- But then the red light clocked off, and the green light came on. His cue to continue had come.

One of the department stores windows was shattered and a blue dress lay spread-eagled across the debris. He crouched over the dress, and ran it through his hands, caressing the fabric, puzzled as to how it was familiar to him. Then it hit him… her eyes, her innocent eyes, the cobalt of the dress exaggerating them under the glow from the porch light, piercing through her angry face…
You’re just a pathetic bastard, aren’t you? Cant leave anything to rest, you could have just left it but you had to carry on. Amazing isn’t it? How you always spoil everything-
It was then his hand had reached for the nearest thing and before he’d known it, the vase was tearing across the room, cutting straight through the tension between them. Her dress had been showered with shards as it exploded against the wall. She had looked at him with those eyes, full of first shock, then pity, before turning to leave the house, the bottom of her dress fluttering in the wind as the door shut…
The last of the fabric fell from his fingers and he stood up, pausing for a moment before walking away from the one last thing he could remember clearly about his wife.

He was halfway down Newman Street when the quiet really hit him. It was like someone had a pillow smothered over the cities face muffling the usual atmosphere of life, and the city was kicking and screaming silently, desperately trying to surface.
He stepped round the corner onto 3rd before stopping where he was. Hundreds of cars lay sprawled across the highway. The occupants had just upped and disappeared and this was the aftermath. He felt like screaming, his range of vision stretched for a mile at least and his brain was telling him there was nobody in it.
Nobody at all.

As he started to walk between the abandoned cars, he realised that some of the radios were still turned on, resonating faintly above the quiet. They were all broadcasting the same emptiness of white noise, Is it that far gone already? he thought.

In a clearing of road around 4 cars from him stood a small girl holding a battered old teddy bear limply at her side. She had her back to him and was peering through the windows of the surrounding cars. He edged towards her slowly, trying not to scare her. Then he heard her speak.

“Momma” she called out.

“Momma please come back.”

And as she started to cry, so did he, falling to his knees. Dear God, he thought, what the hell have I done. And his tears fell hard on the concrete beneath him.

Something had moved behind her so she turned around cautiously and wiped the tears from her cheeks. When she saw the man she had seen look so brave on her momma’s television set before, now crying in front of her, she began to wonder why he was so upset. She took a step out from besides the car thinking how close she could get before he noticed her but he’d already caught a glimpse of her in the corner of his teary eyes and looked straight up at her.

“Have you lost your mommy?” he mouthed slowly lifting himself up to look at her properly. The tears still came from his eyes. She must have only been around 6, he thought, Turn away little girl. Turn away while you still can…

“Yesum…” she said silently, edging closer towards him.

“Well…I’m sure we’ll…we could find her…” At this she outstretched the hand that held the teddy bear towards him, like a peace offering.

“It helps me when I cry, you have it Mister pressydent.”

He looked at her, her eyes, her innocent eyes. It hurt him to see her stood there, physically hurt him. The acrid feeling coursing through him now forced an aching pain through his temple. He was finally getting hurt back, he’d hurt everyone he loved and now it was finally coming full circle for him…
the end of the road.

“I-I’m Sor-“

But he was stopped by what he heard above him in the sky, subduing the silence. A noise that burned in his ears… The sound of an approaching missile.

He could see it now clearly in the afternoon sky. It reached its peak and hung there for a moment like a snapshot in time before beginning its arc of descent, the closing act, the curtains closing on the theatre of life. The white noise from the radios seemed to ring in his ears, filling the air with its deathly chorus. The missile thundered towards the ground, adding its own noise to the symphony. The ground came up to meet the missile. The world took its final breath. As it reached its journeys end he had time only to gasp before the air was ripped from his lungs and the sky turned to fire, embracing everything in its wake.