The Nukes of the Phoenix

I run so fast it feels as though my feet are not touching the ground. I run past different shops, no-name businesses, and restaurants and they appear to me as though I am in a car. I look down at the sidewalk and fall abruptly to the ground as the floor shakes beneath me. I get up and am welcomed by a dark shadow that falls overhead. With fear I turn and realize I am seconds away from being crushed by the skyscraper that convulses over me. My mind is moving faster than my body, I fail to keep up with the anxiety that swarms in my gut. The sound of my heartbeat throbs in my ear and I hear nothing else. A thick, pitch-black fog begins to rise from the floor, quickly tucking itself underneath the falling building. The ground shakes again as another nuke shatters the floor, rippling towards me. I cannot breathe while there is smoke in the air or I will die instantly. I am seconds away from escaping the tower but slide into the cement as it begins to rattle again. As I fall, the crackling sounds of my ankle echo throughout my body. It takes every ounce of strength I have to not scream. My lips clench against each other and I pull myself to safety as the tower collapses behind me. Thank God.

Everything for this moment stands still. I watch the fog brush over my body and slowly begin to disappear. I grow more and more desperate to be able to breathe again. The fog does not stay long, nor does it ever, and I cry as I gasp in for air. My arms reach for my ankle and I tell myself that it is going to be alright. It is not alright, it is not going to be alright. I look around and am pleased to see I am closer to my destination than I had originally thought. I get up and limp as urgently as I can as I approach the pharmacy. The inside looks dark. The only light I see on the building is the letter h on the outside of the building that flashes every few seconds. I walk in and I see some cohesive bandages, I grab several and place them into my pocket and continue to look. I do not have medical knowledge so I can only grab what makes the most sense to me. I do not know why I care to save this man's life. I find a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide, gauze, some acetaminophen, and a travel-size sewing kit.

I do not have time to wrap my foot so I quickly pop two tablets under my tongue and bolt back to the office. The streets are completely empty of people but filled with cars that have some doors open and piles of buildings that have stacked themselves on top of each other. I can see the office, or what’s left of it and my heart sinks into my stomach. A deafening boom glitches through the air nudging me forward as the sidewalk behind me starts to split. The fog comes out again leaving me with no option but to run on my ankle and the pressure is excruciating. I focus on nothing but the office in the distance and pray I was not too late. It is with pain that I make inside though I ignore it as I race to the conference room.

I see the blood on the floor before I see him, I thank God he is alive. He is alive. Something about this relieves a sense of guilt in my chest. I think we both knew there was a chance I was not going to come back. Believe me, I am surprised too. “Oh thank God” I pant as I say this to Lucas. I kiss him, I suppose in response to the adrenaline because that action seemed to surprise both of us. A pause fills the room. “I’m glad you’re not dead.” He tries to mumble back what sounds like my name, though I dismiss it as I rip out the few supplies I gathered and begin to focus on his leg. Looking at it again, I see how little of his leg is actually there. My stomach begins to turn looking at all the blood. I know if I wait any longer to stitch up what little he has left of it, he will have no blood left in his body to keep him alive. I feel sick and want to hurl. “This is going to hurt.” I look at him as though I am trying to say sorry. My fingers shake as I pull out the sewing kit. I grab the nettle and thread a blue piece of string through it. It dawns on me then to disinfect his wound before I work and with a quick look and brief warning, I pour the peroxide over him. His entire body flinches and tears fall from his eyes as he screams. I let go of my inhibition and swiftly thread the nettle through the dangling pieces of his skin. The edges of my hands drip with blood and he cries and I cry too. I finish by tying the ends of the thread together and I wrap him up with some of the bandages. I offer him some Tylenol and he vomits as he tries to take it.

Luc and I have been hiding in this room for roughly three weeks. We tried to leave it once but a nuke hit and part of La Vita landed on him, keeping the lower half of his leg. I do not understand why this section of the building remains intact, but it does and I am grateful. Luc is the only person I have seen since the nukes started falling. Several hit a day. Sometimes they are spread out, sometimes they all seem to fall at once. They fall from large machines that float in the sky. Even if the nukes aren’t coming, the machines are always there. The fog seems to be the killing agent that comes from them. I learned quickly to not breathe it in. Those who did disappeared, entirely. I have not seen a single body or a remesint of one, anywhere. I do not know why this is happening and I am scared. I do not know what it is I am hiding from and I do not want to find out.

I find myself lost in thought fidgeting with the heart-shaped locket that’s wrapped around my neck. My fingers slide the locket back and forth along the chain as I begin to cry again. Visions of my mom fill my head. I recall her getting ready while I sat on her bed talking to her about nonsense. Every time she would do her hair, she would take the locket off, that being the only time she would ever take it off. She was always paranoid that the brush would catch onto it and split the chain. Ironic it was only the brush she was worried about. It was that day at that moment when the first bomb fell and the only two things to make it out of that house were me and the locket. I ran until I ended up here, where I then met Luc.

I glance over at him and he is sleeping. I want to sleep. It brings ease to see him at rest. I notice then that I am still sitting on the blood-soaked carpet. My clothes are half crusted with blood and dripping with it. I accept that I cannot change this but wish I could at least rinse them out. With nothing presently tying me to the room, I set out to explore for a sink and with luck I find one. I pull my hands up to begin to unbutton my flannel and am stopped by a heavy, warm breath I feel on the back of my neck. I do not move. I do not blink. The breathing morphes into a sniff and the creature begins to make a sound with a ticking rasp as it exhales. I fear for my life and slowly turn around when I stop feeling the air on my neck and what I see frightens me.