Sky Red, Kestral Volta [always you kirsty moseley TXT] 📗

Sky Red

“What’s wrong with the sky, Daddy?” asked the little girl in the pink, floral dress, while gazing, wide-eyed, up at the sky.
“Nothing, dear, it’s your imagination” replied her Dad in a vague, not even marginally interested murmur, not taking his eyes of his immensely interesting newspaper.
“But, Daddy, look!” cried the little girl in wonder and horror.
“Yes, dear.” murmured her Dad again. “Why don’t you go and play with Alley.” He suggested in an attempt to cease his daughter’s annoying demands.
She new Alley would care. Alley always cared. Anything she wanted to say, Alley would listen. Any questions, Alley would have the answer, straight away! Mum and Dad weren’t like Alley. Alley was out on the balcony, gazing up at the sky. Annie went out to join her. As always, the extraordinary view awaited Annie. Every time she ventured out, onto the pine balcony, the view of the whole town would be there, ready to amaze her. From Annie’s, large, cliff-top mansion, almost all of Veronica was visible, even if some of it only came into view through binoculars. In the morning, the golden sun would illuminate the pale pink roof tops and cast shadows in the narrow streets and the Square. Those narrow streets would be ablaze with light by midday, the gold rays reflecting off the many birch trees nestled amongst the buildings. In the evenings, the blood-red sunset and on-coming darkness would cast a blue tinge over the landscape, and emphasize the many tiny, yellow specks that were lamps and people’s houses. Such a view was only shared between five families. Five very well-off families.
But this outstanding view was not the focus of Annie’s attention. Her eyes of sapphire were immediately drawn to the sky. The sky of blue, so unique that it was neither deep and dark, nor pale and light, was replaced by a red, so unique that it was neither deep and dark, nor pale and light. The only description for one such blue was ‘sky blue’. The only description, fitting enough for this shade of red was ‘sky red’.
“Alley, what’s wrong with the sky” Annie asked, neither in awe, nor in horror.
“It’s the energy.” She answered in her soft, philosophical voice. “All the negative energy, gathering in the sky, turning it red. You know what it means? All the bad things people have done, everyone’s sins and wrong-doings have given off so much bad energy that it’s had to go into the biggest space on earth. The sky!”
Annie listened in wonder. All worry in her previous expression had vanished and transformed into amazement and curiosity.


Down in the town Square, a small crowd of people was gradually expanding, as more people ventured out into the narrow, cobbled streets. Many of the citizens were muttering to one another, worriedly and hurriedly. Others were just stood and staring upwards, mouths agog. Others were whimpering and cowering in small dribs and drabs, frightened at this new happening. The tension in the streets of Veronica was so thick, the mixture of emotions created an invisible smog that could give most goose bumps!
Amongst those negative emotions that had congregated and lingered over Veronica like a big, red rain cloud was Crewe Timelton. He hovered at the edge of the crowd, gazing up at the sky in awe. Never in his life had he seen anything like this! And the speed at which the colour had changed! He had not looked down for even a minute, but when he looked up again, the soft blue of the sky had gone, replaced by this angry red! But what was most interesting to him was why it had come. Did it know? Did it know what his previous activities were, before he had fled here? Whatever it was. Was it the devil, come to take him away for committing such an act?
No. No!
He was unaware of how he was backing away from the crowd, until he reached the shadows of the alley way. He leant back against the wall and clutched the black bag to his chest. It seemed to get heavier each day. He took a key from his back pocket and a yellowing piece of paper. Time to go home.

Over the other side of the square was a small boy. In his dirty hand, he had a wallet; not his wallet, but somebody else’s. Uric stared in wonder at the sky, thinking about the person from whom he had taken the wallet. He would probably be racked with panic by now, going mad with searching, having to sweep every nook and cranny before he could pronounce it missing.
It wasn’t his fault, though; he needed the money! His Mother needed it. Otherwise, she had told him, there wouldn’t be any tea. Uric felt a deep groaning from his stomach. Maybe, he could just nick a quick hotdog from the stand. It was only a hotdog. What harm could it do?

Percy cast an annoyed expression at the crowd below. What was so interesting that they could just gather outside his home and disturb his afternoon nap? He hobbled over to his desk which he had bought for a bargain at a car-boot sale. Percy’s reading glasses sat on top of an important- looking piece of paper. He sat in the moth-bitten arm chair next to the desk and shoved his glasses onto his face. He grunted as he reached for the paper and started to read: something about a retirement village, eviction and other, unimportant stuff. Percy grunted again as he screwed it up and threw it across the floor.
How many times had they tried and failed to get him to leave his home? It wasn’t going to work! He and his wife had lived here for over fifty years! He may be in his late 80s, but that was no reason for him to leave!
“They can’t move us! Can they, Dorothy? They’re not moving us! I’ll have to die before they can get me to leave this house!” Percy spoke to the empty arm chair opposite him.

In the middle of the square, a small group of chattering women stood, gesturing at the sky. One of them had long, blond hair and expensive shoes and seemed to be popular amongst the gossip. Cassandra knew she was popular. Everyone liked her! Who wouldn’t? She was beautiful! She carried with her a small, red bag in which she had makeup, an IPhone, an IPod and a purse with a variety of credit cards- most of which weren’t hers. But nobody knew that. Nobody knew her secret. Her dirty little secret! That was how she could afford her expensive clothes, her expensive makeup, her IPod and IPhone. Of course, maybe the men of whom she had taken the cards from knew, but they couldn’t do anything. They had all died tragically, in car crashes. She was a broken woman, on the outside. Everyone saw her as a woman who had lost previous husbands, but only Cassandra knew how much of a liar she was. And not once did she feel guilty!

When evening came, the crowds dispersed and people went home. The Veronica police had teamed up with teachers and professors from Veronica University and were gathered at the station to try and figure out what was happening with the sky. The Head of police had decided to nip out for a break from working, none-stop for 3 hours. His team had stopped for a bit too and were under the impression that David had gone for a walk. On the contrary! He was heading for the pub.
Once he was sat at the bar it was easy to get lost in ordering beer after beer. Shot after shot. There was no shortage of women and, since he was quite a high ranking in society, no shortage of money! By the time an hour had passed, David was staggering towards the next bar, surrounded by a gaggle of thin, pretty women. In the next bar, he downed beer after beer, shot after shot. So much for drowning in his sorrows! Why not drown in women, alcohol and money instead! When the time came to leave, he staggered home, forgetting about everyone at the station; he was too drunk to remember where he had been 5 minutes ago! Once through his front door, he was met by a very angry woman and the starts of a verbal boxing match. Upstairs, the sounds of doors slamming and shattered glass could be heard muffled, by a small child, huddled in the corner of her bed room.
The evening sky was a deep burgundy and was dotted with tiny, fragile stars that twinkled in the hypnotic light of the moon, which stood out like a huge, white orb against the deep scarlet sky. Most of the narrow, pale-paved alley ways were illuminated by the yellow lights from terraced houses or the old-fashioned lamp posts that lined the narrow streets, creating a soft glow around the square.

Crewe had finally located his former home and he stood before it as if he were being presented with a golden crown. Never before had he found anything that seemed as safe and comforting as this! It was a long time since he had been here, let alone slept in a proper bed! He slipped the key in the lock, savouring the soft click as the door unlocked. Before going in, he traced his fingers over the silver numbers, nailed to the door and then the peep hole and then the ‘B’ beneath this. He remembered thinking that the ‘B’ had always been lonely, away from all the other things pinned to his front door. He remembered making a resolution to take it off and nail it next to the number ‘13’. It had never happened.
Crewe threw open the door and breathed in the musty odour of his home. He stood in his hallway and closed the door behind him. Stepping into the kitchen, he ran his hand over the table. Looking at the thick, grey dust on his hand he grimaced and turned on the tap. At least the water worked! He went into the lounge. Everything was as he had left it. Except for the dust, everything was the same. He opened the curtains and looked out into the garden. Hang on. What was this? Why were there dead birds all over Crewe’s lawn?
He went out to investigate. It took a bit of effort to get the back door open, but he soon unstuck it. As soon as he stepped out into the tiny square of land surrounded by tall, wooden fences, the thick, pungent odour of decay hit his nose like a base ball bat. He recoiled, but kept going until he was stood in the middle of the garden, surrounded by dead birds and millions of flies!
It knew. Whatever it was, it knew!

Uric ran. He ran faster and faster, desperately trying not to stop or to collapse. His breathing was coming out in agonising gasps and he could feel his