Sleep is often a hopeless soul’s only solace, but for Simon it intensifies the horror of his loss. His dreams are saturated with memories of better times with friends and family; only for him to awake lying in the dirt with nothing more than the clothes on his back. He awakes to a dimly lit morning underneath his shelter, which is nothing more than a hole in the ground underneath a concrete slab. For a moment, he forgets the trauma, forgets the loss, but after a few seconds his despair bears down on him, subjecting him to its full weight.
“No,” He whispers to himself. The dread that occupies his heart manifests into a repeated phrase spoken with a sense of weariness, “Oh no, no, please no.” He exits the hole he slept in and with the assistance of the morning light, witnesses the true scale of what’s taken place. The remnants of the city he passed through the previous night are all that truly remain. Beyond the pathetic mounds of rubble he currently dwells in, exists only the scattered pieces of building materials, nothing more.
Before him lies a flattened landscape, no trees, no buildings, no monuments, nothing recognizable withstood the unknown cataclysm responsible. Thick, blackened dust clouds linger throughout the sky and horizon; keeping most of the sunlight at bay. The very ground on which he stands appears to be charred. He notices black stains upon his brown canvas pants, and sweeps his hand over them only to transfer the ash onto his fingers. His memories attempt to reconstruct the landscape as it was before, but his mind fails to acknowledge that entire skyscrapers have been completely removed from their foundations, and then had their remains spread out so thin there’s nothing left to determine where they once stood. His hesitance to believe such a notion stems from a question. If something so large, so mighty, could not withstand whatever took place, how is it that I’m standing here to witness such a thing?
Despite the shock and trauma of living through something so fantastical and impossible, his mind manages to shift its focus towards the mystery of it all. What really happened, and why? He examines the surrounding destruction and takes notice of something. Most of the debris lies on the western side of each pile of rubble it seemingly originated from. He wanders further into the open, and looks to the east. Black clouds of dust, denser and darker than the rest, reign over the eastern horizon. To Simon, its merely a large gravestone dedicated to the tens of thousands that once lived here. His astonishment peaks when he notices flashes of light within the sunless fray.
“Lightning?” He questions himself. Bewilderment and awe take leave of his mind when he finally acknowledges the dryness of his mouth, and the gnawing hunger that begs him to take action. He turns around and examines the ruin that was his hometown, and concludes that there’s nothing here for him. There’s simply nothing left, nothing. Anything useful would’ve been scattered to the four corners of the earth, I must leave if I’m to survive. He begins walking westward at a measly pace, each step kicking up ash and dust.
He focuses on the horizon before him, charred earth overshadowed by dark clouds stretch out beyond his sight. While the fall temperature remains comfortable, the wind strengthens from the west. Dust and bits of earth take up arms against him, in minutes he must shield his eyes from the hostile elements enlisted by the wind. Everything is now gray and dark. Sunlight hardly breaches the uprising of dust and ash, and Simon aimlessly advances through the storm.
The howling wind deafens his ears to all else that may have reached them, but after toiling through the adversity of it all for an hour; something prevails over the wind and catches his attention, a voice. Long cries for help drift through the air. Simon intently listens to the faint sounds of distress and calculates the best he can where it’s originating, and directs himself towards it. He nears the source with every step, and soon the yells are noticeably one of a woman.
“Help! Help me please! Help!” Simon risks the safety of his eyes and looks up from the ground to see an object faintly outlined in the haze of the dust storm. His first impression of it being small in scale proves to be false as he draws closer to it. This object towers over him, providing a small amount of relief. He only allows himself to recover for a few seconds as the screams for help continue. With one hand upon the metallic surface of this mysterious structure, he searches the perimeter of it for the woman in need.
“Alex! Is that you?” The stranger screams. Simon carefully scans his surroundings but is unable to see anyone. Two loud thuds within the metal structure aid his eyes in their search. Near his left foot is a small opening in the metal, and so he lowers himself onto the ground, belly first, and covers his face with his hands so he can clearly look inside. Within is a woman pinned to the ground by something resting upon her legs. He is unable to clearly distinguish what, but whatever it may be its causing a significant amount of bleeding where it meets the woman’s legs.
The woman’s voice, sodden with pain, crawls out into the open air, “Alex, is that you?”
Being without water and among the dust for so long challenges Simon’s ability to speak loudly and clearly. His voice barely reaches the woman’s ears amidst the turbulent winds. “My name is Simon, how can I help?”
The woman, laying on her back, stretches out her hand behind her and points, “You’ll find a small opening! You’ll have to crawl your way in!”
Simon immediately rises to his feet and searches for the other opening. When he finds his way in, he notices something familiar about the structure itself, but quickly removes this notion from his focus as he crawls in. Once he’s within the structure he’s able to stand, and the previous notion returns as he realizes what he’s discovered, a crash site. Where the hull of the spacecraft meets the earth, the ground is torn and jagged. Further down near the woman is a large portion of the earth that has been completely torn up and removed from the impact.
“Over here, quickly!” Simon rushes over and rests upon his knees beside her, and listens to her assessment of the situation. Her brown hair is pulled back into a ponytail. Bruises, smears of dirt, and multiple cuts cover her pale face; which is narrow with petite features such as her small nose and mouth. Her brown eyes look into Simon’s with confidence and composure despite her painful situation. “My crew mate, Alex, was supposed to come and find me. Did he send you?”
“No I didn’t see anyone, I could hardly see anything at all.”
Simon witnesses worry drape over the woman’s face as she explains her situation. “I can’t move, and I’m afraid if we remove the section of hull resting on my legs without proper medical attention, I might bleed to death. You wouldn’t happen to be a trained first responder would you?”
“No, I’m sorry. I have limited medical training.”
She rests her head upon the ground, and stares at the ceiling while taking in deep breaths as she wrestles with the pain. “Listen uh, what’s your name again? I’m Mary.”
“Simon.” He turns his head away from Mary and coughs before repeating his answer, “My name is Simon.”
“Listen Simon, I understand I may not survive this, I mean it’s a miracle I survived the crash at all.” She pauses for a moment to dwell on that fact before continuing, “What I’m trying to say is you’re not responsible for me, but there is something you can do for me.”
Simon agreeably responds with a modest tone, “Okay.”
Mary grits her teeth as a surge of pain pulses throughout her body. She takes in some deep breaths and composes herself while Simon, on his knees beside her, looks on wishing he could help her escape this fate. With her body shaking, Mary locks eyes with Simon and states what she needs of him, “To the west, there’s an air force base; do you know it?”
Simon thinks for a moment, “I do, yes I do. It’s about an hour and a half drive from here, I think.”
This lifts Mary’s spirits as excitement washes away the worry that once held claim over her face, “Oh good! Good! Please, you must go there and find someone, or find a way to warn someone from there that the enemy is coming!” Simon blankly stares at Mary before making an attempt to speak, but before he can Mary elaborates, “They must be warned of what is coming, this is only the beginning Simon. At the very least, get yourself there in hopes of finding someone who can help you. There’s little chance you will find a better place to call for help.”
Without hesitation Simon asks with fervor, “What about you?”
“Me?” Mary methodically shakes her head as a tear drifts from her eye and falls into the dirt, “It’s more important for you to do this, for me, than waste precious time tending to wounds that are probably fatal.”
Simon objects with, “But, I can’t just do nothing. There must be something I can do to help you.”
“Believe me I wish you could, I don’t want to die, but, this is more important than me. I know it must be hard to understand, but trust me that once you get there it will; and you’ll be glad you did this thing for me.” Simon remains still and speechless, and stares at Mary with the purest of sympathy overwhelming his mind. A silent moment between them passes before Mary remembers something, “Over there.” She points down in the direction of her feet, “There may be some supplies in that compartment on the right.” Simon looks in the direction she points and notices what she speaks of. He approaches the container and opens it to find bottles of water and nutrition bars.
He grabs everything inside and returns to Mary, “Here.” He opens one of the bottles of water and offers it to her.
She mildly shakes her head with her eyes closed, “No, please don’t waste that on me.”
“Take it! Please!”
He holds the water out to her and she gently takes it from his hand. She sits up the best she can without causing herself more pain. Simon promptly offers her a hand and supports her back with his hands. She carefully drinks the water, but only drinks half the bottle. She closes her eyes once more and hands the water back to Simon, “That’s enough for me, you’re going to need as much as you can carry.”
Simon returns to his original spot beside her as she lays back down, “No, I’m leaving these with you.” He places another bottle of water and a few nutrition bars beside her.
She turns her head to her side and stares at the offerings. She mutters a weak, “Thank you,” and closes her eyes as another wave of pain takes hold of her. Simon takes a few steps back from Mary to rest his back upon the hull of the wreckage. Mary speaks up after a few minutes of silence, “Sounds like you can leave now.”
Simon looks over to the entrance on his right, and hears no winds or much of anything outside. His focus returns to Mary as he takes a knee beside her. “Are you sure about this?”
She opens her eyes to look at Simon, “I’m sure. If there were time, if there were no threats; I could tell you a story about me and my friends. A story where I made mistakes, where I was selfish at a great cost. You go and do this for me so I can be at peace, and so you can find protection for what is coming. Goodbye Simon, I wish you the best, and thank you.”
Simon nears the point of shedding tears, but he does not; he instead responds sincerely and with affection, “Thank you for helping me, and I will make sure to never forget you. If I find anyone there, I will relay your warning, goodbye Mary.” Their eyes remain locked for as long as possible as Simon turns and walks toward the entrance he first passed through. Upon exiting the wreckage, he now sees before him a sky filled with clouds of dust that bear a different shade of color; a color resembling that of sand. Stray plumes of dust pass him by as a steady breeze still remains, but a breeze that will no longer keep him from his journey. The sun still remains hidden from sight behind the thick layers of dust and ash that hold the sky captive. He looks to the west, and still all there is to see is a landscape stripped of its former identity. Charred, flattened, and barren, the aftermath of the mysterious calamity withheld none of its fury.
Simon can’t be certain, but he convinces himself he knows the direction he must travel in to reach his destination. He begins his journey westward, holding a few bottles of water in his arms with the remaining nutrition bars filling his pockets. Purpose, something he thought he would never feel again, now drives him onward. A feeling that overthrows his desire for survival as it did for Mary, a feeling that will see him through till his journey’s end.