Behold, Part 3 of the Beyond, also the final part. I hope you thoroughly enjoyed it.
Sooner than I expected, White pulled up in not a car, or a truck, not even in a bus, but in an armoured banking truck that looked like it would be fit to transport the Hope diamond. I didn’t know where it came from, but I didn’t want to find out either.
The trek was about an hour. Everything was running along smoothly, despite the terrain.
Soon we arrived at the El mansion or, near it anyway. The whole escapade was one surprise after another, and the security was no disappointment either, for there must have been a quarter of the countries’ military stationed there, everything from helicopters to police officers in armoured suits; holding hundreds of thousands of people at bay behind wrought iron gates.
People yelled and screamed, clawing over one another trying to stay afloat. This was rioting at its peak. No one in their right mind would dare to infiltrate this facility. But I wasn’t right-minded.
Nearby a man stood upon a mammoth stack of crates yelling to the skies some crazed speech about the space agencies across the world had fallen, and how El was their last hope of survival, referring to him as the “harbinger of the new beginning.”
Soon someone toppled the boxes leaving the man to plummet to his fate. Momentarily transfixed, I was snapped back to reality by a bug eyed woman pulling at my sleeve yelling, “We must get on that ship! Get past those barbarians!”
It was true; it was like the whole world had turned barbaric. Now we acted like a giant pack of rabid dogs, desperate for blood. We worked our way back to the mobs edge, glass crunching under foot. I put my hand to my ringing ear as we discussed ideas.
Then, like the crack of lightning that stuck nearby, I had an idea. At the border of the crowd were two, tired and harried looking men in uniform.
To me, the thought of killing a man was absurd, absolutely absurd. Murder was a dark act, and when something was killed, it couldn’t be un-killed. But this wasn’t murder, I though, pausing in my own thoughts. It was necessary. I told myself it was nothing. Anything that could generate reason, I did, to repel the on setting plague of guilt. Though considering we were all going to die soon anyway, what did it matter?
Several minutes later, we appeared donning stained and battered uniforms. Nobody would bother to check for ID, papers or anything. Who would?
We joined a small contingent of other uniformed men, who were wheeling stacks of crates to a large side door on the building. I thought perhaps, if they were destined for the ship, perhaps we could stow away in one of them?
As I walked with the others though, I couldn’t help but wonder how many of them actually belonged in that uniform, and how many shared the same idea we did.
My vision began to tunnel the further we got forward. Two-hundred feet, one-hundred feet, fifty feet. All I saw was the goal at hand, and all I heard was white noise.
Zero feet, I began to perspire as we reached the massive doors. It was only about a five minute walk from the gates to here but it felt like an eternity. The air suddenly turned thick and my breaths swallowed.
The doors opened to reveal a large, monochromatic room, stacked high with crates identical to the ones we had brought. The room smelled of metal and must.
I cracked a smile; this must be a cargo hold.
The others quickly retreated back down the path and out of sight, excitedly, I motioned White inside. We had to be swift if we were going to make ourselves hidden before the others returned.
But they weren’t coming back.
Just as we stepped in, a deafening roar sounded out shaking the ground beneath us. I looked out to see that the ground was getting farther and farther away. We were flying, and the mansion itself was the ship! Finally, the ship lurched precariously to one side.
In that single horrific moment, White lost his footing, falling to his knees, and began sliding down the slanted floor straight towards the open doorway.
I cried his name and lunged for him, just managing to grasp his hand before he fell. I was being dragged with him, but thankfully, I hooked myself to the door’s edge before I could go with him. I was safe, he was not.
I urged him not to let go. Desperately I pulled him back to me, but his weight grew strenuous on my arms and for just an instant, my grip slipped, and he fell. For good.
I only caught a glimpse of his face, accepting of all things, but nonetheless unforgettable. He would have no ceremony, no grave to be buried in. He would be cremated with the rest of the world. A blanket of cries and fire to mourn his death but no more.
A brave man, gone in a second.
So why me? Why was I here over anyone else? Was there a reason, or was I just lucky?
I yelled to the sky, as if I expected someone to answer. I dropped to my knees and cried out first in silence, then in a wallowing choke.
“Give me a sign! Show me the light to guide the way!”
No answer came, but as the doors slid shut and I collapsed against the floor, out of the tiny window, I gazed a single, bright star.
If that wasn’t a beacon of hope, I don’t know what was.
The ship lurched again, and I slid backwards, felt something strike my head and then everything fell into darkness.
That is how I came to be where I was, lying silently, head throbbing, on the middle of a cold steel floor, aboard a ship destined for nowhere, with only myself to speak to.
What would come next I didn’t know, life was full of surprises, so I guess I’d just have to play it by ear.
© Copyright M.C. Scripturus and mcscriptor, 2013
I shall start by saying, that I am incredibly happy to say that I have now completed the first novelette to be uploaded to mcscriptor.
I hope that you all enjoyed that to the maximum, and there is to be much more content. I can’t really speak for your opinion, so make sure you let me know what you thought in the comments.
Additionally, I’m also in the process of getting mcscriptor up on every social media I can find, so I’ll have those links soon. They can be found both in the sidebar and in the page labeled, “Find Me”. So far the FaceBook page is a go, so make sure you check it out.
I’ll try to refrain from ranting so I’ll cut it short now. But thank you for reading. I shall be back soon, (within a week) for some brand new content! -M.C. Scripturus