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Part 1: Run

Part 2: Nightfall

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Tokyo, Japan

The roads lay to waste.  Cars lined the roads as if shaken and thrown across a craps table.  Sirens filled the narrow roads and echoed up through the skyscrapers.  The last ray of light dips over the horizon.

A street light flashes green to the dead traffic that it once directed.  Still the streets remain empty and lifeless.  Suddenly a man emerges from the American Embassy.  He rubs his eyes in disbelief.  The once bustling streets of Tokyo, Japan have been reduced to a graveyard, but yet not one body remains to be seen.

The man pulls his black jacket shut and flips up the hood.  Inspecting the area the man sees holes in many of the windows and vehicles as if the bodies had been forced from them.

“Hello!!” There is no response.

He gasps for airs in a panic.  He turns, looking for anything or anyone, stubbling through the rubble.  A look of mystery and fear crosses his face.  The look that can only be given when every last person in Tokyo has vanished.  A slight brezze fills the air and the man calls out again.

“HELLO!” Nothing, “What the hell is going on here?”

The wind picks up and stirs the debris.  He ducks and covers for the nearby record shop, the door is locked.  He scans the area quickly and spots an enclosed bus stop.  The wind whips past his face, road signs and sheet metal soar through the air.  He kneels down and takes shelter in the corner .  The wind picks up more dragging cars through the streets.  The tires screech across the pavement.  Street lamps and poles tear themselves away from the road creating a shower of sparks and leaving darkness in it’s wake.  A car drags across the road violently.  The man looks up to see the car screeching towards him.

“No, no, no.”  He gets up and moves towards the opposite end of the bus-stop anticipating the car stopping at the curb.  Once more the wind picks up forcing the car up and over the curbside.  The high wind pulls the car up into the air and heaving it through the air ripping off the top of the small bus stop.  The man throws himself face down onto the ground with his hands over his head.

“Jesus Christ!”

Without warning the wind stops.  The man slowly emerges onto the street and lifts himself to his feet.  He can hear whispers in the distance.

“Is anyone out there?”  He puts his ear to the air.

“Now…” a voice says softly.  A loud rumble sounds in the distance and a shockwave throws the man to the ground followed by a plumb of smoke.

The man coughs while struggling to his feet, pulls his hook back up and looks through the settling smoke.

“…we are everywhere.”

A large crowd of people surround the man as the smoke settles. They all stand lifeless-like with eyes as dark as the night.

DESERT: Somewhere outside of Baghdad

The desert stretched for miles across the Earth.  The sun reflected back up through the atmosphere literally cooking the surface.  The sun raced towards the ground.  Off in the east two Arab men run for their lives, knowing not even what they run from.

A loud rumble sounds in the distance.  The sun continues to approach the horizon and dip behind the distant mountains.  The two men turn and look to the east towards a village.  The lights from the homes begin to go out and then buildings shake apart.  They exchange a panicking phrase in Arabic and begin to run into the west.  One of the men trips and falls to the ground.  The other looks back in fear.  A cloud of smoke rushes towards them.  He keeps running leaving his friend screaming in terror as he is swallowed by the smoke.  A shockwave hits the man from behind forcing him to the ground.  A dark figure rises from the desert sand.  The man looks up at the mid-sized man shrouded in black.

“Who are you?” the man says to the dark figure.  There is no response, only a nod.  The man turns to find his friend behind him.  His body lifeless and his eyes black.

“Ahmed, NO!” Snap out of it!”

“He is mine now.  As are you.”  The dark figure claps his hands.  All is dark and gray.

The Arab man stands in the middle of an empty gray-like desert.  He falls to his knees, puts his hands in his head and begins to cry.

*         *         *

My name is Turner Strauss.  Only one week ago I was thrust into one of the most terrifying, godless situations I had ever faced.  Today I live with the consequences of my actions.  I have learned that sometimes the best way around Hell is to blaze a path straight through it.

[to be continued]