In The End Box Set , Stevens, GJ [motivational novels .txt] 📗

of cars wheeled out, silent to the extent of my vision as I climbed from the car. My face fixed as my friends held theirs, mouths wide, locked with bewildered stares.

Engines lay at rest. The traffic filled the two thin lanes bordered by dry stone walls. Each abandoned, with few of their owners having the presence of mind to close their doors.

“What the fuck?” were the words I barely heard from Toby's mouth, words I knew weren't meant for anyone.

“Why the fuck?” My words came without command, my feet unbidden the same. One in front of the other, slowly at first, building, building until I was flat out.

My gaze jerked this way and that, searching out for new information. Searching for the end of the line as I swerved left and right around cars which became three across as each one tried and failed, despite the brush of metal on metal, to squeeze past. Shoes and bags, luggage and holdalls littered the remaining gaps, slowing me to more of a hurdle as I raced to the head of whatever this could be. I swerved right at the bumper of a van, having smashed the wall before bogging down on the grass. Its doors were wide. A glance of a hand imprinted red to the white paint of the bonnet.

I turned away, my progress doubling as I ran unimpeded along the grass. Slowly, the density of cars seemed to increase, leaving no air either side, but it had done them no good. Each car had wedged with their windows smashed.

A vision flashed of people hauling themselves out, biceps tight, clawing to climb from the crush of metal. I turned back ahead, knowing my day-mare was still only a patch on reality. My breath caught as I saw the queue abruptly stop, the road blocked with three cubes of concrete stacked at the junction. I stopped just as quickly.

Shaking my head with my hand reaching for my chest, the drum of my heart reassured me I was awake. As my breath slowed I took a tentative step, renewed guilt washing over me when I realised I hadn’t thought of the shadow hitting the windscreen as I ran.

With a deep breath I climbed the wall, stones crumbing to the ground as I leapt to the roof of a stocky sports car. Easing my way forward, the journey unhindered by space between each car as I moved to the next. Ahead I could see the concrete blocks were like those used to put across disused carparks, like those used to protect the unwanted colonisation by families armed only with their homes towed behind them.

Beyond the concrete there was nothing. Nothing at least when I took my first look. An absence of traffic, cars, vans, the spray of glass, but as my eyes blinked with a fevered ferocity, I realised there was plenty else to see. Bags, clothes and suitcases littered the T-junction cutting left to right, its third way blocked by the concrete. But it was the blood, more numerous than anything else, which forced my hand to cover my mouth.

Glancing back at the sound of panting breath, I saw Toby and Andrew hurrying forward on the grass. Their eyes were not as wide as mine, stretched only to the abandoned cars. Soon they would be as wide as they could be on seeing the despicable scene spread out in front.

The moment was clear when they fell on the three piles of clothes, each looking out of place, seeming larger than all others surrounding. Both climbed on the car as I stood without words. Both took steps with me, jumping over windscreens, landing to the clear tarmac.

Soundless, we headed on. Our gazes latched to the blood, our feet stepping sideways. Our glances meeting for the first time as my foot knocked something we all recognised, the spent cartridge like a tiny bell as it rattled across the floor.

Soon the sound came again, this time in chorus like a miniature orchestra. Our feet swept the path left and right, clearing the way to avoid the slip and fall while together we took our unspoken journey to the closest of the dark bundles. Definition grew, its shades of greens, browns and black recognisable on the arched back.

We arrived and I watched my hand reach out. I watched as, pulling at the shoulder, I wheeled back, the body of a young woman, a lieutenant according to her lapels, rolled under her own weight.

My stomach reacted first, gripping vice-like, but it was already empty. My gasp of air was enough to control my alarm at the crushed side of her face, a muddy footprint to the other. The same could not be said for my friends.

As the body came to rest on her back, I spotted the handgun lain underneath. I turned left and right to the pair standing bent over with their hands to their mouths in unison, their gazes fixed on what I’d seen.

Toby nodded. Andrew gave no reply. The gun was still warm, but it nearly fell from my fingers as an almighty rumble ran deep in my chest, ripping through the silence and lighting the horizon.

5

Lunging for air, I turned toward the cloud. Breath rasped as I watched the smoke build, waiting, desperate for its form to become clear.

Panting, I read its shape in vain, lids blinking in anticipation. Could it be a mushroom? There was no bright flash. No wind battering across me, knocking me off my feet.

My breath slowed and I turned to Andrew and Toby either side, shaking my head. Solemn nods came back in reply as Toby seemed to get energy from somewhere. He bounded around to the other two bodies, skirting their forms, staring for a moment at each but never closing in.

Without words we turned back along the row of cars. Our pace was steady as