We pollute the Earth, we leave a mess, only we seem willing to soil our own nests. When you read this, you might change your ways, for the Earth might just be getting its revenge…
A low, yet persistent roll of thunder announced that the foretold storm had finally arrived. The office windows reverberated loudly, causing John’s hand to instinctively reach for the computer’s keyboard to save the file he was working on.
He gazed through the glass at the blackened clouds that were coming in from the south and mouthed a silent curse. Glancing at his iPhone, he registered the time at quarter of five and quietly cursed again as he rubbed his closely cropped beard in frustration.
With a crash, twin peaks of lightning arched across the darkened sky, sounding their thunder explosions. This time, John didn’t hesitate as he saved his document once more and shut down his computer.
“Did you hear that?” his co-worker, Mara, asked as she stuck her head into his office. “Boy, that was a loud one. Did you shut off your PC?”
“Yeah,” John said with a sullen tone, “and I still have a lot of work to do. That McPhearson project still isn’t calibrated, and the client wants the data tomorrow.”
“How much more do you have to do?”
“Ten minutes at the most,” he grumbled. Then his eyes drifted back towards the sky outside, which had grown almost as dark as night; already the rain had started falling. With a sigh, he turned his computer back on.
“Not smart,” Mara warned with a concerned smile. “If your PC blows up, the IT Department will never forgive you. None of our surge protectors here are worth shit.”
“What they don’t know won’t hurt them,” John said with a grin. “It’ll only take ten minutes.”
“Good luck,” she said as she flashed him a smile, then returned to her office.
John’s computer came to life as clinical data flashed across the luminous screen. Then with a bright spark, the lights went out as all power in the building died. He sat silently in the darkness for a moment, listening to the crackle from his monitor as his nostrils filled with the whiff of ozone, then the room lit briefly as another lightning flash caused eerie images to shift across the walls.
“Crap,” he hissed under his breath.
The emergency lights came on, bathing the room in a soft glow coming through his open doorway from the hall. He turned his back to the window and listened to the steady rain heavily striking the glass behind him.
“Well, I guess that calls it a day,” Mara said as she poked her head back in his office, blocking what little light was coming in.
“I guess so,” John admitted sourly.
“Oh, don’t be so sad,” she laughed. “You can finish it up tomorrow morning. The McPhearson rep never comes here before eleven.”
John nodded his head thoughtfully in the dark, as his concentration faded to the powerful noise of the rain and thunder.
“Can you believe that?” Mara asked while looking past him.
John turned around and glanced at the window, astonished by the sheen of water that was drifting across the large pane.
“The rain’s really coming down out there now,” he said with wonder. “It’s going to be hell driving home today.”
“I hate it when it gets dark like that,” Mara said. “It’s unnatural for it to be dark at five during August.”
John thought back to the weather forecasts early this morning. They had reported on the hurricane that had hit the south coast along Florida, but had predicted that the northeast would only get some minor residual effects.
“I’m sure it’ll blow over soon,” he told her as he tried to make his voice sound reassuring. “The weather report only predicted a few thunderstorms.”
“True,” Mara said, then let out a short laugh, “but they also forecast this as one of those ‘stay home’ days. Don’t you just love it when the pollution gets bad enough, they have to warn you not to go out?” She shook her head in wonder. “What are people with asthma supposed to do, not go to work?”
John let out a sigh. “Hey, and we only live in the suburbs, imagine what it’s like in the city.”
The window rattled in its setting as the wind picked up to a gale force, and John’s eyes were instantly drawn to the seal along the edge of the pane. He got up from his desk chair and walked to the window, bringing his hand up to the edge. Then he pulled his fingers back sharply in pain. For a moment, he stared at the water on his hand, then quickly wiped it off.
“What is it?” she asked.
“The window’s leaking at the seal.” He glared back at the window, wondering what he had brushed against, then he glanced at his hand which had already become a little red.
They both turned their heads as a growing noise began to build down the hall. Giving each other a brief glance, they walked down the dimly lit hallway to the large lobby by the reception desk. A crowd of people had gathered by the huge glass doors as they stared out at the already flooded parking lot.
“What’s going on?” Mara asked Bethany, the receptionist.
“No one’s leaving,” she answered. “News is calling for over half a foot of rain, and the whole state is in a flood alert.”
“I’m going for it,” one of the computer programmers suddenly declared. “The roads can’t be that bad yet, and I have to get home to my kids.”
John suddenly worried about his wife; he knew she would have left for home at four-thirty, but still wouldn’t be home yet. Pushing down his concern, he opened the inner of the two sets of glass doors that led to the outside. “How far is it to your car, Alex?” he asked the programmer, suddenly wary of the rain for no good reason he could think of.
“Around the corner,” the programmer said, as he stepped into the buffer zone between the huge sets of doors. “You going too?”
“I’ll wait and see if you make it first,” John answered with a chuckle.
Alex returned the laugh. “Thanks a lot. You’re a real comfort.” The lanky programmer glanced up at the darkened sky for a moment as he pulled his suit jacket over his head, then he opened the door and made a break for his car.
John watched as each running footfall caused eruptions of water around Alex’s feet. The programmer hadn’t even gone a dozen feet, and already he was soaked to the bone.
John shook his head with a smile of coming dread as he realized that he would have to face that soon, then his grin faded as his look changed to one of puzzlement. Instead of running faster to cut down the amount of time he was outside, Alex seemed to be slowing down as he ran, stumbling blindly into the shallow lake that was once the parking lot.
“What’s wrong with him?” Mara asked, as she watched the programmer begin to stagger back and forth, as if he had totally lost his bearings.
John found himself recalling his honeymoon in Mexico last summer, and the terrible storm that he and his wife had been caught in while touring the Mayan temples in the Yucatan Rain Forest. He had been amazed at the ferocity of the rain…as if the forest was sacred, and it was trying to cleanse itself of the touch of man.
“Do you think he needs help?” Bethany asked.
Her concerned voice shook John back to the present, and he peered through the deluge towards the swaying programmer, who hadn’t moved from his last spot in over thirty seconds. He glanced over to Mara, and read the worry in her eyes, then nodded.
John moved to the outer glass door and opened it halfway, instantly feeling a light spray of water across his face. He glanced upward and was grateful for the building’s awning that was protecting the doorway. Taking a deep breath to prepare himself for the soaking he knew he was about to get, he took a step out of the doorway—and stopped. Alex had begun to move again, turning back towards the building, and reached out a hand as if for help.
John peered into the rain to try and see the programmer’s face, but all he could make out was a wash of red. Then Alex fell forward onto the parking lot, sending a spray of water all around his body. He pushed himself up onto his arms once, as if trying to crawl back—then sank back into the water and stopped moving.
John and his coworkers stared in blank horror, unsure what to make of what was assuredly an absurd situation. Then Tony burst out of the elevator, his face a twisted mask of anxiety. Oblivious to the recent occurrences, the stout accountant pushed his way into the crowd.
“Hey, everyone,” he blurted out, momentarily drawing attention away from the travesty in the parking lot. “I just listened to the radio news. They say that all contact has been lost with the southern states. No one answers south of Virginia, no Police, Fire…no one!” He took a breath to try and calm himself, and almost hyper-ventilated. “That’s not all,” he rambled on, almost in a frenzy. “There was a lot of static, then they said something about acid rain, then I lost the station. Now I can’t get any stations at all.”
John’s hand unconsciously drifted to his face where the water spray had hit, and he took a short breath. Already, the skin was somewhat sensitive to the touch, as if he had gotten way to much sun. A sudden pang of fear chilled his heart as he thought of his wife again, and her long ride home in the storm.
“What about Alex?” Mara whispered, her face an ashen image of its former self.
John turned back to his friend who was lying face down in the water and let out a silent curse. “I need something to cover myself with.”
The simple command drew an instant response as Tony offered his thick raincoat and rubber galoshes. Then Bethany handed John her umbrella.
“He’s all right, isn’t he?” she asked, her voice shaking slightly.
John gazed at the receptionist sternly for an instant, then he donned the rain gear and stepped back to the outer doorway.
Mara suddenly reached out and grabbed his arm, clutching it like a scared kitten stuck up a tree. “You be careful.”
“I’ll be just fine,” John said more to calm his own nerves than hers. Then he glanced back at all the expectant eyes that were upon him. “I guess I’m the designated hero,” he whispered into Mara’s ear, causing her to smile.
“I’m sure it’s all some sick joke,” she reassured him.
He nodded in return. “I hope so.” Then he touched the button on the handle of the umbrella, causing it to expand and open above him like a knight’s shield against a hail of arrows.
Tentatively at first, John began to walk out into the parking lot, careful not to splash the water. Instantly, he was assaulted by the storm as he made his way to Alex’s still body. The rain beat furiously against the umbrella as the wind sent violent sprays of water across his raincoat and threatened to tear his protection from his grip. For a moment, he stopped walking, almost ashamed of his newfound fear of the rain. He glanced back at the huge glass door, where Mara was waiting with hands against the handle…the rest had retreated to the lobby. Not that John could blame them, he had to fight the impulse to run back to Mara, but he had to know if Alex was all right…because if he was, then everything was going to be all right. With renewed strength, he trudged out to the still programmer until he was over his body.
“Alex,” John called against the wind—but he could barely hear himself against the rain on the umbrella, not to mention the thunder that constantly sounded. Then he knelt and reached out to the programmer and stopped, realizing that he had no gloves. He finally settled for digging his foot under Alex’s torso and flipping him over.
The programmer rolled over effortlessly in the water as if he suddenly had no weight to him, like a log in a river. John had to blink his eyes twice to accept what he saw, as Alex’s eyeless skull glared sightlessly up at him. For an instant, John was certain that he was going to be ill, as he glanced back and forth over what had been a close friend. Hardly any of Alex’s front remained, only juts of slick white bone protruding from a pulpy mess that he guessed was a mixture of skin and clothes. Glancing sharply away from the horror, his eyes rested on the horizon around him. The sky was almost black as night, lit periodically by the continuing lightning. The trees at the edge of the parking lot bent and swayed like angry gods in the tremendous winds, as water streamed from their limbs like miniature waterfalls. His gaze drifted across the parking lot, at the multitude of cars, then back to the building. The paint seemed to be melting off the sides of the cement walls, and the corporate logo was bleached white.
Then a single drop of rain fell through the umbrella and struck his jacket. At first, he thought it came from the sides, then he glanced up at his protection overhead. The umbrella was sagging in many spots, where little pools of rain had gathered. In those areas, thin wisps of steam seemed to be seeping through the material, like an upside-down smoke fire.
“Crap,” John cursed as he began to run back to the doorway, careful not to cause large splashes as he sped along. But he stopped as he passed the bushes outside the walkway in front of the doorway and stared at the brilliantly colored flowers in full bloom…flowers that the company groundskeeper had tried in vain all summer to get to come out. He looked up and saw Mara frantically waving at him, and wondered what she could be so worried about.
The loud bang from behind him almost made him lose control of himself as he glanced back into the parking lot. He tried to peer back into the tempest behind him when another shot sounded in the storm, drawing his attention to a small car that seemed to be sagging to one side.
“The tires…,” he uttered silently as an impulse to race to his car rose within him. “We’re running out of time.”
The splash of water that struck his left arm and hand was a total surprise, as the side of the umbrella finally gave way. Not waiting for the pain to hit, he ran back to the doorway, protecting his head with what was left of the umbrella. The first wave of agony stuck his hand as he cleared the outer doorway into the buffer zone, and Mara began to rip the coat off his body.
The coat struck the tiled floor like a dead fish being tossed into a bucket, and John found himself instantly riveted to the bright yellow rain slicker. Wisps of steam were rising from all parts of it, and the plastic was bubbling on the left arm, making popping and sizzling noises that released a smell of burnt rubber.
“Didn’t you hear us calling to you?” Mara yelled at him as the second wave of pain started to throb at his hand. She led him into the reception area, as blood began to break through the weakened skin of his left hand in half a dozen places. “My God.” She quickly opened the first aid kit that was stored behind the reception desk and began to wrap his hand.
John watched his raw hand become covered by the white bandages; his pain already faded to numbness.
“We got the news on Bethany’s radio for a moment,” Mara continued as she put an extra layer of gauze on to stem the flow of blood that had already seeped through the first. “They mentioned the acid rain again, and how it’s eating everything in its path.”
John found his gaze drifting back through the doorway at the flowered bush near the entrance, as a confused frown spread across his face. “Alex is dead,” he said flatly, as if devoid of emotion as his eyes stayed riveted on the blooming flowers. He was positive that there were more of them now than there was just a moment ago.
“Are you sure?” Mara asked quietly, as the others hovered around the two of them.
John nodded grimly. “If you saw what was left of him…”
There was another series of sharp retorts outside, like gunfire, which caused everyone to turn to the doors.
“What was that?” Tony asked as he forced his way to them.
“It’s the tires blowing out as the rain eats through the rubber,” John grimly informed them, then turned to Mara. “We have to get out of here, before it’s too late.”
“We can’t go out there,” Bethany squealed. “We’ll end up just like Alex.”
The crowd voiced its agreement with many smaller comments.
“Soon all the tires will be blown,” John desperately tried to reason with them. “Then we’ll be stranded here.”
“Better in here than out there,” Tony argued, backed by half a dozen followers.
John’s eyes swept the crowd in frustration and tasted the panic that was quickly growing within his coworkers. He wanted to make them realize the peril they were all in, but knew that without having seen Alex’s skinless face, his words would carry little weight. However, he knew he had to try anyway. “You people don’t realize what’s going on out there,” he pleaded, his eyes locking on Mara’s fear laced ones. “This isn’t just some storm that is going to blow on by. Everything’s being destroyed out there by the rain.”
“But that’s just not possible,” Tony’s words struck in defiance.
“What about Alex?” Mara defended John’s claim. “Look at what’s left of him out there…if anything.” She grabbed John’s left wrist and held it up for the crowd. “Look at the blood here, this was caused by the water out there. Don’t any of you idiots understand what he’s trying to tell you?”
A silence settled on the gathering, disturbed only by the roaring tempest outside and the occasional sharp burst of a tire. Then the stairwell door opened, admitting four more members of the accounting department into the darkened lobby.
“Tony,” one of the newcomers called.
The accountant ran over. “What’s going on?”
“The third floor is leaking all over the place,” she exclaimed through heavy breaths. “It’s coming down in buckets…and that’s not all.” She paused when she realized that everyone’s attention was on her now. “The carpet is…well…I don’t know, melting, I guess. But only where the water is hitting it.”
“Is anyone else up there?” John asked her.
“I don’t think so,” she told him. “We were the only ones left.”
John glared back at Tony for a long moment, then scanned the rest of the faces. “The roof has begun to give from the acid in the rain. How long do you think it will take the water to eat its way down to us? Half an hour? An hour?”
“Or it could stop any moment,” Tony insisted.
“Out there we at least have a chance.”
“Out there is death,” Tony badgered, “you said so yourself.”
“Out there is a chance for life,” John persisted.
“How do you figure that?” Bethany asked, her body began to tremble like many others.
John let out a sigh, then walked back towards the door and gazed through the glass for a moment in relative silence. “The storm came from the south,” he began softly, barely audible above the deluge outside, “and it didn’t hit us that long ago. So, I figure if we can get into our cars and head north, we’ll outrun it. Maybe the effects of the storm are lessening as it climbs north, or maybe it will blow out to sea before it gets to us again.”
“How far will we have to go?” Mara asked.
“I don’t know,” John admitted. “As far as we have to, I guess.”
“Count me in,” she said with a smile.
“Count me out,” Tony cut in immediately. “You’re asking us to commit suicide. If the storm is moving as you say, then it’ll blow past us eventually.”
“True,” John consented, “but what will be left when it does?”
Tony’s reply was cut short as a terrible crashing noise sounded above them. Everyone fell to their knees in terror as some screams of panic rose above the din.
When it finally faded back to the normal storm noises, John crawled over to the accountant and grabbed his arm in anger. “That was the roof giving in, Tony, how much longer do you think you have here?”
“We’re not going out there,” he responded sternly, his face scrunched in determination.
John let Tony’s arm go in frustration as he got up and turned away. “Fools,” his voice whispered as he looked back over the crowd. All eyes were upon him as he stood above them…their scorned and deserted messiah. “Won’t anyone please listen to me? This is our last chance.”
Many shook their heads firmly, their eyes laced with fear as they huddled closer to their chosen protector, Tony. John glanced over at Bethany, who was biting her lip in indecision as she rose to her feet.
“Come with us and live, Bethany,” John tried, feeling the torment within her. “Tony’s wrong.”
“And John’s a suicidal fool,” the accountant added.
Bethany glanced back and forth between the two trusted men as a tear trickled down her flushed cheek. Finally, she found her voice as she sunk back to her knees. “I c-can’t go out there,” she cried softly, “I’m sorry.”
John lowered his eyes in sadness, suddenly feeling a great loss. “So am I.” Then he turned to Mara and grabbed her hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
“What about the rain?” she asked.
John looked around, and then ran over to the door labeled ‘shipping and receiving’ and went inside.
Mara saw him reemerge with a large sheet of thick bundling plastic. “That won’t last long out there.”
“It doesn’t have to.”
John took Mara’s hand again and pulled her to the doorway, then opened the inner glass door and stepped through. He pulled the heavy plastic over his and Mara’s heads and prepared to open the outer doorway. Then he glanced back into the room one last time, at all the expectant faces huddled there like trapped mice.
“We’re going to make a run for my car,” John said as he turned back to Mara. “It’s a four-wheel drive and has really thick tires… maybe they’re still good.”
Mara gazed out at the parking lot, her eyes shimmering in the flashes of lightning. “Most of the car roofs are caved in,” she whispered.
“I figured that,” John told her. “My car has a canvas cover over it.”
She looked up at him. “You think that would make a difference to rain that can eat through a steel roof?”
John glanced outside at the bush again, which was totally covered in brilliant flowers now, then at the trees that were still standing, despite the pounding they were receiving out there. “Yes,” he said quietly. “I’m not sure why, but right now I think that a cotton or wood covering is a lot safer than steel or plastic.”
She shrugged at him as she pulled the plastic tarp closer around them. “I hope you’re right.”
“Let’s find out,” John said as he opened the outer doorway, the wind and rain hitting their tarp with a sizzle instantly. He grabbed her hand and pulled her out onto the sidewalk that surrounded the parking lot, keeping them above the water. Then they ran along the cement to his car, seemingly untouched by the devastating downpour.
A grin formed on both of their faces as they saw the thick tires, standing tall in the bubbling liquid. Then he wrapped some of the plastic around his hand and pulled off the car cover, allowing the rain to strike his car for the first time. Instantly, the bright red paint started to run down the hood of his SUV, like a crimson waterfall. He quickly opened the passenger door and shoved Mara inside, never letting her leave the protective cover of the tarp until the door had closed her safely in.
Looking up at the plastic above him, he already saw water condensing on the underside as the rain began to eat its way through. He crossed over to his side of the car when his eyes caught a blackish lump in the center of the parking lot, like a pile of dirty laundry. It took him a moment to realize that it was Alex, or what little there was left. Then he opened the door and jumped inside, discarding the plastic tarp as he closed himself inside the car.
For a moment, they sat in silence, both grateful that they had made it, then Mara began to squirm uncomfortably.
“Get wet?” John asked, as he felt a few patches of burning over his body as well.
Mara nodded. “It’s all right. Let’s get out of here before the tires give out.”
John agreed and started the car up, letting out a relieved sigh when the engine came to life. Then another large crash made them both look through the windshield as their office building lost another floor. The roof’s center sagged in further, giving the building the impression of a large letter U.
John let out a sigh as he tried to concentrate on his wife instead of the friends that he was leaving behind. With a grunt of determination, he put the wagon into reverse and backed out of the parking space. Then he put the car in drive and floored it, sending sheets of water arcing out from the car in both directions.
Neither of them spoke as they pulled out of the corporate center and onto Route One. Both were silent as they accelerated on the highway heading north, passing by hollowed out hulks that were once cars, littering the sides of the highway.
They passed phone poles that were devoid of wiring, yet standing tall like alien trees, and wooden billboards that were washed bare, suddenly leaving a more powerful message than they had before.
As they passed by an overturned commuter bus, John’s eyes started to water.
Mara turned from the destruction and faced her friend, placing a soft hand on his arm as he drove in silence.
“My wife…” he finally said, his tears reflecting the skeletal images of the destroyed cars. “There’s no way she could still be alive.”
Mara squeezed his arm gently. “We’ll make it together,” she tried to reassure him. “We’ll outrun the storm like you said, go north until it blows over.”
John just shook his head, his mind focused on the tropical rain forest in the Yucatan. It was as if the forest was sacred, his mind drifted, and it was trying to cleanse itself of the touch of man. “Don’t you understand what’s really happening?” he whispered while motioning to the trees along the side of the highway. “Look at the melted concrete, look at the crumpled buildings and cars, then look at the grass…the bushes…the trees.”
Mara slowly gazed around through the storm, at the massive destruction, and the perfect trees that never looked healthier, taller, or prouder.
“This isn’t some storm that’s just passing by, or leftovers from the hurricane, or even just in our area. We’re being cleaned off this place…nature finally said enough.”
“You’re serious,” Mara asked, suddenly more concerned for her friend than what was going on outside.
John saw the fear in her eyes and let out a low groan. “I really don’t know what I believe anymore,” he confessed. “But I do know that nature is really resilient, and I also know we’ve been poisoning this planet with our pollution for a long time. Maybe this is nature’s way of cleansing itself.”
Mara let out a nervous laugh, “Then what happens to us?”
John shook his head again and sadly turned his attention back to the road. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “I wish I knew…” He felt her hand squeeze his arm tighter, her fear and confusion transferring into his arm. “We keep on driving,” he finally tried to reassure her. “Who knows, maybe it’ll let up soon.” Her grip relaxed as she let his arm go and turned back to the storm.
For a moment, he felt happy that she wasn’t so scared anymore. Then he watched his windshield wipers beating furiously against the downpour, trying to keep the view clear despite the dissolving rubber, and his heart grew cold again. Everything affects everything, his mind contemplated as he struggled to stay on the washed-out highway, his attention becoming briefly transfixed on the skeletal remains of an Auto Dealership.
“This is just a residual effect, you know,” he muttered half silently to himself.
Mara ignored his words, as she continued to stare at the tempest around them.
“You put enough junk into any system, and it shuts down, or spews out the junk…”
They both fell quiet as the SUV continued north, struggling to stay on a highway that was finally losing its ongoing war against nature.
END
Recent Comments