Endurance Page 2

  ‘Darling, I’ll be back in a second.’

  Anna looked up at Tom with her mouth filled with lamb and potato and nodded. Tom turned and walked towards the restrooms.

  He stumbled into a cubicle, pulled the toilet lid down and sat down. He pulled out the box and began to question his decision.

  Should I propose now or later? Should I have proposed earlier? Should I propose at all? After all, she might say no.

  Beginning to panic, Tom worked himself into even more of a sweat. His chest tightened and he struggled to breathe. He unbuttoned another button on his shirt, trying to get some air. He put the ring box back into his blazer pocket.

  Tom flushed the toilet and tried to escape the cubicle with his shaking hands. He tried to steady himself and open the door.

  Walking toward the sink, he buttoned his shirt. As he breathed slowly, trying to catch his breath, he splashed water on his face and watched the water trickle down his reflection in the mirror. He continued to watch the water moving down his face in uneven lines. His thoughts were interrupted as someone burst into the bathroom. The door smashed against the wall; Tom snapped violently out of his reverie. He walked to the hand drier, dabbed his face with a tissue, and left the bathroom to return to the table.

  He decided to wait for a better moment to propose. They left the restaurant at 10 p.m. and made their way to the cinema. They got their tickets and went in to watch the film. Anna rested her head on Tom’s shoulder while they watched the film and they held hands throughout.

  Two hours later, the film ended and they began walking home. The streets were surprisingly empty.

  Is this time to propose? Tom wondered.

  Tom started shaking and felt butterflies in his stomach. A bead of sweat trickled down his back as he reached into his left pocket. He held the box within his pocket for a moment; then released it. He breathed easily until the next corner, another corner closer to Anna’s flat.

  I can’t wait too long to do this. Otherwise, I won’t be able to do it tonight and I may not get another perfect time.

  He reached into his pocket again and grabbed the finely crafted maroon box. Stroking the box with his thumb and index finger, he brought it out of his pocket and introduced it into the night. He stepped in front of Anna.

  ‘Anna, He knelt as he said her name in the middle of the quiet road.

  Her eyes began to fill with tears, they glistened in the darkness; the street lamp’s light outlined her fine physique and purple dress.

  ‘Will you, Miss Anna…’ Tom was interrupted when suddenly, the street lamps flickered. He reached out and gripped Anna’s hand while still on his knees. The street lamps continued to flicker until they all went dark. The sound of tyres gripped firmly to the road approached their position. By each second, the sound became clearer and louder. An enormous “THUMP” broke the air around Tom and wind washed brutally across his face as Anna’s hand was snatched away from him. A padded sound followed, as if a sack of potatoes was dropped from a great height.

  A car passed, so a brief light was generated. Tom stood in dread, calling for Anna. He lifted his hands and felt around in the darkness until there was enough light from the passing car to find Anna. Squinting, he focused on a purple blur lying on the ground.

  Tom rushed over and, to his terror, discovered it was Anna. She was facing the ground but her body looked strange, her beauty seemed somehow twisted, deformed. Her hips were facing to her left, while her head faced the ground and her arms and legs seem were completely shattered, with fragments of bone peeking through her once lovely skin.

  He clutched her to his chest. As he lifted her head to his face, he saw that her eyes were open.

  ‘Oh my god Anna, talk to me.’

  As her mouth opened, blood poured down her chin. Tom searched for a pulse but couldn’t find one. He stared at her lifeless body in disbelief as he held her in his arms, crying.

  He looked into her dead eyes, noticing they were now devoid of their usually vibrant colour. He stroked her soft cheeks and her dry lips with his finger tips. Some of the street lamps flickered back on, but the buildings remained dark as Tom sobbed and clutched Anna tightly in his arms. Residents came out of their homes to bear witness to the dramatic events outside.

  A middle-aged man walked quietly towards Tom; he began to drag him away from Anna’s body. There was a struggle as Tom tried to outmuscle the man and return to Anna’s body. Screaming, Tom collapsed on the pavement and slumped onto his stomach.

  Disoriented and bewildered, he stared at Anna and flashbacked over their five years together. The trauma painfully sunk in as he remembered her smile, her laugh, her physique, her walk, and her beautiful eyes.

  Tom tried his best to come to his senses when he heard a loud explosion; it was so severe it shook the very ground he was lying upon. Tom sat up and stared ahead trying to figure out what was happening. Something hit his back and pummeled his head, hard, and he lost consciousness.

  5

  Tom awoke to silence, staring at the concrete. The smell of smoke lingered and a cooling breeze stroked his skin.

  Momentarily, he forgot about all that had happened; then his memory began to return in small increments.

  First, he felt panic about the proposal, he remembered going to the restaurant, then to the cinema, and finally, he remembered his proposal... He remembered holding Anna’s miss-constructed body in his arms and looking into her sightless eyes. As he attempted to stand, he couldn’t, something was holding him down. He raised his head to dislodge the rubble that had fallen upon him. He got to his knees but was completely disoriented; Anna’s body had disappeared and there was no one in sight. Bricks, concrete and rubble covered the street around him.

  Frightened, he ran, but tripped. As he landed, he felt a sharp, piercing pain in his leg. He looked down and saw a metal rod poking through his lower thigh. The rod was covered in blood and parts of his skin clung to the metal. Tom screamed in pain. Shaking with adrenalin, he reached slowly toward the rod with his left hand; he gripped it, trembling, he began to tug. The pain was too severe. He tried to snap the rod to make it shorter in his leg, but it was too thick. He gave up, and left the metal sticking in his leg, yet another disaster in a day filled with disasters.

  Buildings that once stood proud have been obliterated. Most were family homes - young couples with small children. Some buildings were missing the roofs or half the house was now simply nonexistent.

  Smoke and flames smothered the street. Tom walked along, staring wide-eyed at the damage. The flames were scorching, as he walked through it felt as if his face was being cooked. He limped to the spot he thought Anna had been hit, then to where he thought she had landed. He knelt, using his bloody hands to dig through the rubble trying to find her body. He had no luck, and his hands were getting carved up by the debris. He lay down and closed his eyes. The desperation to find Anna surpassed the pain of his injuries.

  The uncomfortable surface dug into his back, but Tom couldn’t think of anything except Anna, her beautiful features, her soft glossy hair and her sweet laugh.

  An image of her dead body came into his mind. The thought wouldn’t leave. She stared at him, her eyes full of anger and hurt. Her blood-shot eyes had less brown and more red in them. Her body was tangled and twisted. Suddenly, her body began to straighten with loud cracking sounds. Her bones unknotted, the cracking of the bones continued to echo in Tom’s ears. Tom forced himself to wake from this nightmare.

  ‘I must have fallen asleep.’ Tom said.

  I’ve got to try to find out what’s happened and what caused this. I’ve got to find her body, I just need to know. I need to find Stewart, Lucy and Dan, see if they’re okay.

  Each street looked identical; the buildings obliterated; no sign of life at all, flames suffocated each street.

  Tom arrived at Anna’s flat; or at least where her flat once was. Her flat was gone. The greenery was just mud, smoke and a partially burnt tree stump.

  The s
moke hovered above the ground all the way through London. Tom made his way to what used to be Jubilee Gardens, and was now full of debris, with parts of what used to be the London eye covering the area. The tree trunks were burnt with no greenery in sight. He stared across the Thames; there was nothing but empty land.

  Tom limped to the main road and saw some cars burnt to dust and others flipped upside down. The walk bridge that led to Waterloo station was collapsed in the middle of the road, crushing cars, and probably people as well.

  Tom’s hope for survival was crushed.

  How am I ever going to do this by myself? There’s no one around; there’s no such thing as the police anymore, probably not even the army. What am I going to do?

  Something wriggled under the collapsed footbridge, snagging Tom’s. Momentarily forgetting the pain in his leg, Tom ran toward it. Someone was trapped under the bridge. Her bloodstained hair covered her face.

  Tom jumped and skidded along the tarmac and knelt next to the young girl; she couldn’t have been much older than twelve.

  ‘Hello? Speak to me. Are you okay?’

  The girl moved her mouth, but no words came out. She exhaled slowly. There was a long pause, as Tom waited and waited for her chest to rise again.

  ‘No, no, stay with me please. What’s your name?’

  The girl didn’t react. Tom tried to turn her over, but she was wedged under the bridge. He grabbed her arms and yanked. As he pulled, he something tear; she’d lost her legs. He pulled her torso away from the rubble. He released his grip, jumped back in horror and fell onto the tarmac. His brain seemed to have switched off as he stared at this lifeless and legless young girl.

  Full of fear, Tom stared at the torso for what seemed like a lifetime. As he tried to stand, he couldn’t seem to get off his back. He eventually climbed off the ground and limped away, looking back at the girl over his shoulder.

  Tom staggered into the middle of the road, looked up into the sky, and tried to block everything out around him. He began to scream, digging his fingernails into his hand, drawing blood. His screams echoed through the shattered streets, bouncing off each corner, brick, and car, and returned to him like a boomerang. The screams stopped and the silence returned.

  What could have done this?

  Tom limped through the streets of London. Alone.

  Why has this happened? What is it, a world war? An alien invasion?

  Tom’s thoughts were interrupted by screams. Standing still, he tried to identify from which direction the screams were coming. The screams sounded as if they were to his left, just around what used to be a corner, where a partially constructed building was. Tom began to jog, but slowed due to the pain in his leg.

  I’ve got to ignore this pain; I’ll find somewhere to hide out to treat it.

  Continuing to jog, with a slight limp, he got closer and closer to the screams. The screams turned from an echo to a solid sound. Soon, Tom saw the screaming woman. She was crawling with one arm and no legs; her face was covered in blood and looked as if it’d been scraped along the concrete-strewn ground. Her screams rang through Tom’s ears. The sight made him queasy. He ran toward her.

  ‘Shit. What happened here? Do you know anything? Did you see anything?’ Tom sounded desperate.

  ‘I saw everything, please can you just…’ Her weak voice was overpowered by Tom’s shouts.

  ‘Tell me what you saw.’ Tom said fearfully.

  ‘I saw lights in the sky…’ the woman’s voice petered in and out as she struggled to speak, losing her breath. ‘…then something came from out of the sky and started shooting everything and everyone… put me out of this pain, please?’

  Tom stood and looked down at the woman.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Kill me.’ She whispered.

  She has no chance of surviving. I don’t feel capable of killing this innocent woman. She is in pain but how do I do it? Only thing I’ve ever killed is an irritating fly entering my house.

  Tom aggressively pulled the metal rod out his of leg, his skin and pieces of flesh stuck to it. He held the rod above the woman’s head. As he aimed it into the centre of her forehead, he threw it aside forcefully.

  ‘I can’t do it.’ Tom sobbed, ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘No, please. Please I’m begging you.’

  Tom stared at her torso, arm and then her face.

  I feel worse letting her suffer like this.

  Tom found the rod, knelt beside her head and he stabbed her in the throat. Blood spurted onto Tom’s face; he ignored it and continued to violently stab the woman until there was no movement. He stared at her body and felt ashamed to have killed this innocent person. He stood over her, staring down at the ground around her, not daring to look into her eyes. They were still open. He looked toward the empty skies in disbelief.

  I’m now a killer; I’ve probably killed a mother, a daughter and a wife.

  He tried to erase this act of senseless violence from his memory but could not. This wasn’t the time or the situation to have good morals.

  This is about life and death now.

  This all seems so unreal. It’s like a nightmare that you just can’t awaken from. The way the woman was describing it made it sound like an alien attack. It could be possible; no one has ever said aliens don’t exist and there have been some sightings of such things.

  Ken Williams, Tom’s dad, never believed in aliens but he never completely disbelieved either. ‘You can’t ever be sure of something that you can’t prove to be unreal,’ he used to tell Tom. ‘Approach life with an open mind,’ he also said. Today, Tom was approaching life with an open mind; he had killed a woman, held two dead bodies, and was considering this to be an alien attack.

  Tom sat down behind a car. He took off his tie and tied it around his leg over the wound; he pulled it tightly to stop the bleeding.

  Tom moved away from the car to turn around and pull himself up using the side mirror. As he stood looking over the roof of the car, a light shined on him, immediately followed by shots that hit the car and the tarmac behind him. Flinching away from the shots, there was an explosion behind him. Tom and the car were launched into the air, flipped and tossed onto the ground. Tom jumped up immediately, not even stopping to assess his injuries, and ran away at full speed. Whatever it was followed him and continued to shoot, hitting the tarmac behind his feet. Occasionally, the bullets hit over his head, piercing buildings and shattering the tarmac ahead of him.

  He attempted to see what it was by looking over his right shoulder; a glaring white light shone into the corner of his eye. He ran into a building and up the stairs. The bullets pierced the walls and travelled all the way through the building to the other wall and pierced it as well. Tom dove to the ground, skidding across the wooden floor, picking up numerous splinters in his hands and knees. He gasped in pain. A bullet skimmed his shoulder, knocking him facedown into the floor. His shaking hand cupped his shoulder, as he pulled his hand away; he saw that his hand was covered in blood. His shoulder had a massive bloody gouge in it.

  Tom stayed on the ground, quivering from exhaustion. The bullets stopped, as did the jet-like sound. He groaned as he tried to stand, his wounds felt more painful with every movement.

  Holding his breath, Tom silently got to his feet. He tried to sneak through the room on tiptoes, undetected. Every step he took was silent, until a floor board creaked. He paused and looked around. He peered through the shattered window. The light was not in sight. He jumped over furniture and rubble, trying to silence his progress by landing on his toes.

  He found a staircase leading straight into darkness.

  Should I go down there? There might be an exit, but there might also be whatever is driving that hovercraft down there waiting for me.

  Tom’s thoughts were interrupted as he was suddenly forced off his feet by an explosion behind him that propelled him down the stairs. After a few seconds, he landed sprawled on the filthy ground.

  The world paused.
Tom listened to the machine outside, circling the building. It sounded like a hovercraft with an engine noise like a train coming to a stop.

  Tom looked around the room from his vantage point on the floor, searching for a window to try to identify what was shooting at him. There was no window in sight. He wondered if the shooting machine had left him. Listening carefully, Tom limped up the stairs. The room he had fled across only moments ago was blown away in the explosion. He looked all around for the hovercraft, but it was gone for the moment. As he turned to go back down the stairs, there was another explosion.

  The building began to shake. Tom searched for an exit; but couldn’t see one in the dreary light. Finally, he spotted an opening about seven yards away. He darted toward it, the door seemed to be moving away until he dove into the exit, reaching out to it, hoping, just hoping, to fly out of the building.

  He landed on his stomach on the dirty ground. He hopped up, hastily, using his good arm and leg, and continued to run. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the building he was just in begin to collapse. As it hit the ground, dust and rubble smothered the air.

  Tom looked back to see the light in the air circling the rubble. Tom landed in a hiding spot where the ground raised into something of a hillock; just enough for him to lie behind it. He watched the light disappear into thin air.