The Rain of Fire

The Rain of Fire. An ancient civilization had forewarned of its coming. Their calendar was studied, its timeline deciphered, each date remarkably corresponding to major events around the globe.

12-21-2012, its last date, was believed to be the last day of the world. There were many theories, many predictions, and relief was felt by the masses when the day arrived and ended without incident.

Unfortunately, the expert’s calculations were slightly off and when bursts of hot matter fell from the sky, decimating the globe, killing half the population nine years later, it was a complete surprise.

When it happened, I was riding a wave of turbulence twenty thousand feet in the air. Biting my lip. Squeezing my legs together. Staring at a fasten seatbelt sign. My bladder threatening to explode.

The struggle was real. As real as the flight attendant that had blocked my path at the beginning – an hour and a half before.

I couldn’t take it anymore! I flung off that belt, stood in that narrow aisle, and placed a hand on the seats to steady myself.

“You have to sit down.” The old woman was in my face again. Hands on her hips. Lips pursed. The gray bob on her head bouncing.

“Lady, I can’t hold it anymore.” Not wetting myself my only concern, I easily forgot manners.

“You’ll have to wait until the captain turns off …”

“I’ve been waiting!”

“It’s dangerous.”

“Just move and let me do what I got to do!”

Five minutes. That’s all it took. Those few moments could have spared the torture. If I had insisted at the start or returned to my seat when asked … It’s crazy how one thing … one choice can change … everything.

I exited the bathroom, stretched idle muscles, took a step, and my eyes fell on her. Reading a book, by the window in the last row.

A wide smile grew. I felt the dimples embed themselves in my cheeks. I didn’t expect to see her on this trip – her family was dirt poor.

I flopped into the seat beside her and grinned.

Fear filled wide blue eyes.

I hated that, but I had wanted to one of the tough guys and she was a target.

I picked up the gold, heart-shaped locket that hung around her neck and brushed a finger over the pearl inset. A Valentine’s gift left in her locker.

I had left a lot of things in her locker. Notes. Flowers. Confessing my undying affection, but she never knew who her admirer was because I was a coward. Unable to show it in public. Terrified my friends would turn against me – or worse – hurt her.

Whistling!

Crash!

An explosion!

The plane jolted. The lights went out. Loud beeps pierced my eardrums.

I fasten the belt, pulled it tight, and stared at the girl beside me.

She stared straight ahead. Eyes closed. Her fingers wrapped tightly around the armrests.

I placed my hand on hers.

The nose dipped. The plane plummeted fast, pressing me against the seat.

Boom!

The first rows of the economy class were ripped away, exposing a crimson sky and balls of smoking florescent orange falling from the heavens.

This was it. This was the end.

Regrets flashed before me. Like my last moment at home. In a hurry to leave, I had brushed off my mother’s worry and exasperating doting. I would only be gone a week – if I knew that would be the last time I would ever see her I would have hugged her harder. But I couldn’t wait to get away. From her. From home. From childhood.

And that girl. Sweet. Kind. Beautiful.

Ahead of us, a brick building emerged. Closer. Closer. The heated meteors pummeled and destroyed. Decimating the Earth. Leaving nothing behind but fire and ashes.

And the plane showed no signs of slowing.

We stared at each other.

I reached out a hand, caressed her cheek, and placed my forehead against hers. “It’s me.” And I touched my lips to hers. Showing all that was in my heart.

***

I pulled an old, rusted clunker into the remains of a parking lot. It had taken a year to return to what was left of my hometown, just to find that there barely than ash and rubble. The same as the rest of the world.

After the crash, the survivors amazingly shed self-interest, helping, and giving of themselves in a time of total disaster. But once they realized that the devastation reached far beyond that plane crash panic and free will took over and it was a lethal combination.

Solitude seemed like the best option. I had never lived my own life before and I headed towards the smoky horizon with high hopes. There had to be something out there. Beyond the eternal red darkness.

At night I pulled a picture out of my pocket. The one I had cut out of a yearbook. I wondered what had happened to the girl on the plane and at the same time, I didn’t want to know. I had never found her after the collision had ripped us apart.

I laid eyes on the old brick building. It looked as though it would crumble at any given moment, but half of it still stood, untouched. So that made it beautiful.

There wasn’t much beauty left in the world. Black cracked ground. Nothing green and rarely a sign of life.

I stepped over a charred and splintered door, took in a shadowy interior, and inhaled fusty air.

Discarded clothes, shoes, and broken children’s toys littered the space. The paint was smeared extra thick on the walls, an obvious and unsuccessful attempt to conceal the scrapes and dents of the previous layer. Almost normal.

I wandered to the nearest apartment and stared at the number one painted in sloppy red paint, it’s excess dripped halfway down the door, bestowing no welcome. I pushed it open. It creaked.

I placed one cautious foot in front of the other, listening as the floor cringed and complained under my weight afraid it would divide and send me falling into whatever was left of the basement

“Shit!” I yelped as a large rat scurried past me. “I guess you weren’t expecting a roommate.” I chuckled and laid my bag on the milk crate that stood by the door.

It was a sparsely furnished one-bedroom apartment, complete with cracked and peeling paint on the wood-paneled walls made me wrinkle my nose. It did look like it had been the cheapest place possible to rent … before. It smelled like it as well. Damp mildew mixed with smoke.

A tattered sofa was positioned between two doors that I assumed were closets, but I soon found that one led to a small bathroom. I poked my head in and again. There was no shower, only a stained and chipped clawfoot tub. There was a tiny sink that had a thick, brown ring around it and a toilet and the water worked.

I cupped my hand and tested a mouthful. Enjoying clean water, letting it quench my burning throat and dry mouth.

Well, it had four walls and running water. I didn’t find what I had hoped, but that almost made the trip across the country worth it.

I ran my fingers over the mantle above the old fireplace. It was missing a big chunk on its corner and what was left looked like someone had dug a sharp object into it several times. My fingers touched something slightly cold. Small and it shimmered in the pale moonlight that poured through dirty windows.

I picked it up. A necklace with a …

I swallowed hard. It was a gold, heart-shaped locket, with a pearl inset.

Click! Click!

I spun around.

“I thought … it was abandoned.” I laid eyes on her. Holding a semi-automatic. Bare arms and tactical pants.

“Well it’s not,” she spat, but she didn’t lower her weapon. “How did you find me?”

“I wasn’t looking. I … I thought you were dead.”

“I knew you weren’t.”

“Wait, what? Why didn’t you …”

“Why would I?” She squinted her eyes, full of distrust. “You know how I felt.”

“Yeah, when we were falling to our deaths! After all your buddies were dead!” She lowered her weapon. “Why did you come here?”

“Same as you. Hoping to find my family.”

She shook her head. “I haven’t found another living soul here. Not even a wild animal.”

“You’re here.”

She shrugged. “I’m not the same as I was a year ago.”

“Nobody is.” I nodded towards the window. “But that’s got to be a sign of better things on the way.

Outside, the sun had risen. The darkness fell away and the sky was blue.