Nightscape

“Honey? Roy Dean?” The crackle of static was all I could hear coming from my BlackBerry. “If you can hear me, I’ll call you back in a few minutes. The storm is killing my signal.” I hit the end button and locked my phone before sticking it back in my pocket. It was getting late and I should’ve been home a long time ago, but this danged storm was mucking up my whole night. There had been a tornado warning for the last two hours and I had stayed at work instead of trying to drive home as the building that accommodated my office was much sturdier than my house. The rain had finally let up somewhat so I was hoping I could make it home before the bottom dropped out again. I wanted to let my husband know that I was on the way home, but my stupid cell service was spotty at best.

As soon as I walked outside, I knew that something was off. There was an eerie quiet that was unlike anything I had ever experienced; it seemed that even the insects had been scared into silence. There were cars abandoned on the road in a haphazard way that seemed to indicate they had stopped of their own accord without much input from their drivers. There was a small group of people gathered in the lawn between the parking lot and the street, assumingly the owners of said cars; they were huddled together in a tight group, staring upwards. My eyes followed their stares automatically, compelled to see what had them all enraptured. When I looked up to the stormy sky, my heart skipped a beat then felt as if it had dropped into my stomach. Terror gripped me, and I felt for a moment that my body had forgotten how to breathe without conscious thought.

Instead of the greenish-grey sky that usually accompanied a tornado warning, or the low hanging clouds that reflected the orange-pink lights from town during a thunder storm, I was met with what could only be described as a horrifying sight. The sky was crystal clear, a dark blue that I had only ever seen out in the country away from the city lights. The stars were all visible and the moon huge, but the lines that crossed the sky were the reason for my terror. Stark white lines made a very intricate tapestry in what could only be described celestial blueprints. Of what I’m not sure, but the fact that they were there was enough to make my heart seize again in my chest and my breathing to come in gasps.

I walked slowly to the group gathered on the lawn, staring at the night sky, scared out of my mind by what this could mean. When I reached the others, I stood quiet on the outskirts of the group, waiting, I suppose, for some type of explanation for what I was seeing. When none was offered, I spoke. “What the crap is that?” My voice was raspy; sounding as if I hadn’t spoken in a while, or had just woken up.

“It started about an hour ago, when the rain was really heavy.” A voice from the other side of the group answered. I glanced over and found a dark-haired guy, probably a student on campus. His face showed that I wasn’t the only one in the grips of fear. “My truck just died over there.” He pointed to the street in front of my building, indicating an older model Dodge. “I thought it was my alternator. I sat there for a while and when the rain started to let up I saw that I wasn’t the only one stranded. That’s when I first saw the lines. We still haven’t figured out what’s making them.”

As I watched, more lines appeared. It was as if someone had a laser pointer and was drawing them on a canvas of blue. This wasn’t a jet stream that would be made had a plane been the culprit. As more lines appeared it became apparent, even with my limited mechanical knowledge, that the blueprints were of some sort of engine. I tried to wrap my mind around it, but in no way could I make sense of it. Something inside of me told me that I was in danger and I needed to get home – now. I made my way back to my car, half expecting it to not work as so many others were stranded. I was fully prepared to run the two miles home if necessary, praying that Roy Dean would have an answer. Luckily, my trusty heap turned right over and I sped out of the parking lot, leaning over the steering wheel to keep an eye on the ever changing sky.

The drive home provided enough time for me to contemplate what it could all mean, but not enough time to come to any type of conclusion. I still hoped that Roy would have some answer – after all, mechanical stuff was his forte. It was foolish, I know, but my mind was in turmoil and grasping at any explanation that would make this whole situation ok.

When I pulled into the driveway, Roy Dean was standing on the patio, the orange burn from his cigarette the only indication that he was there. The street lights on our block were out. I ran to him, barely giving him time to spread his arms before I wrapped myself in his comforting embrace. I was safe with him, no matter what. “Honey, what is this? I’m so scared.” I spoke into his chest, forcing myself not to look at the sky anymore, certain that my mind would break if I stared at it any more.

With a calm voice, he answered. I didn’t like the answer, as it was the one that I was most afraid of. I sucked in a last panicky breath, feeling the tingling start in my fingers and toes, and travelling quickly up my extremities to settle in a writhing mass in my stomach. I tried to scream, but the sound got lost in my throat. I felt my knees give out and I crumpled to the ground as darkness enveloped me.

***
I sat straight up in my bed, panting. The panicky feeling was still gripping me, my heart pounding in my chest, sweat beading on my forehead. The hair on the back of my neck was prickled and goose bumps broke out on my arms. I rolled over, snuggled into my husband’s warm chest and attempted to go back to sleep, trying to talk myself into a calm that wouldn’t come. Never again would I watch the SyFy channel before bed.