Star Light, Star Bright
21 May 2011 11:20![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skonen_bladesWe were at Jason’s house partying when it happened. W3, The Rapture, Day One, whatever you call it.
I remember everyone’s phones going off. They lit up in the darkness of the party, confusing everyone like surprise Christmas lights or large blue fireflies. Everyone got the same message at the same time. Emergency Broadcast Signal, it said. It had links to instructions and details and those horrible words “safe distance”.
We turned on the television and rushed to our laptops and Jason’s computers. Trajectories were laid out, newscasters were openly crying, and the senate cam showed rows of empty seats.
Jason lived outside the city limits. We’d all brought our trucks and were going to stay over. No drinking and driving. We were responsible people. We turned off the music and went outside. In the distance, we could hear the city yelling like their team had just scored a goal in the playoffs but it didn’t stop. Smoke from the first few fires started to smudge up into the air.
What sounded like an earthquake started about a mile to the right of Jason’s house and with a clank and hiss, sixteen circles irised open in the ground. We all turned our heads towards the sound in unison.
The missiles came up out of the ground like angels in the darkness. Magnesium flares attached to huge, white pencils going up and up and up. He had no idea that there were missiles silos that close to him, Jason said. He’d heard rumours of an army base there but that had closed years ago. It must have been automated and left on standby.
We all stood on the porch and saw the missiles arc into the sky and away into the night, joining other stars making their way to different destinations, pulling faint spiderweb contrails across the dark night.
The fact that there were missiles close to Jason’s house probably meant that area was a target, Ryan said. His dad was in the army over in Afghanistan. That made us all realize that we wouldn’t live on after this in some sort of post-apocalyptic Mad Max world.
A few people went to their cars and drove away to the city to find their families or away into the prairies where they thought they could outrun the radiation.
Most of us stayed at Jason’s. We all tried calling our parents and loved ones. Some of us got through. I didn’t. Then weak EMP waves from other impacts must have started washing through because the phones and the lights went out.
We sat there in the darkness. A few couples went to have sex until the end came. The rest of us stayed there in the living room near the big window.
There it was. Carrie saw it first. A falling star. Coming straight for us.
tags
I remember everyone’s phones going off. They lit up in the darkness of the party, confusing everyone like surprise Christmas lights or large blue fireflies. Everyone got the same message at the same time. Emergency Broadcast Signal, it said. It had links to instructions and details and those horrible words “safe distance”.
We turned on the television and rushed to our laptops and Jason’s computers. Trajectories were laid out, newscasters were openly crying, and the senate cam showed rows of empty seats.
Jason lived outside the city limits. We’d all brought our trucks and were going to stay over. No drinking and driving. We were responsible people. We turned off the music and went outside. In the distance, we could hear the city yelling like their team had just scored a goal in the playoffs but it didn’t stop. Smoke from the first few fires started to smudge up into the air.
What sounded like an earthquake started about a mile to the right of Jason’s house and with a clank and hiss, sixteen circles irised open in the ground. We all turned our heads towards the sound in unison.
The missiles came up out of the ground like angels in the darkness. Magnesium flares attached to huge, white pencils going up and up and up. He had no idea that there were missiles silos that close to him, Jason said. He’d heard rumours of an army base there but that had closed years ago. It must have been automated and left on standby.
We all stood on the porch and saw the missiles arc into the sky and away into the night, joining other stars making their way to different destinations, pulling faint spiderweb contrails across the dark night.
The fact that there were missiles close to Jason’s house probably meant that area was a target, Ryan said. His dad was in the army over in Afghanistan. That made us all realize that we wouldn’t live on after this in some sort of post-apocalyptic Mad Max world.
A few people went to their cars and drove away to the city to find their families or away into the prairies where they thought they could outrun the radiation.
Most of us stayed at Jason’s. We all tried calling our parents and loved ones. Some of us got through. I didn’t. Then weak EMP waves from other impacts must have started washing through because the phones and the lights went out.
We sat there in the darkness. A few couples went to have sex until the end came. The rest of us stayed there in the living room near the big window.
There it was. Carrie saw it first. A falling star. Coming straight for us.
tags