(no subject)
Adam is certain it’s the end. Malcolm is counting down the seconds until 11 o’clock in his earpiece, his voice getting more and more panicked the closer they get to zero. Briefly, he wonders how much it’s going to hurt, even though he’s dealt with more than his fair of explosions and is well aware that he won’t even hear the sound of the blast.
As he drives the car into the square, he jams his foot down hard on the break and thumbs the door with his right hand, preparing to make a last minute dash that might just save his life. But even as his foot touches the ground, he knows it’s too late. There’s a loud wooooosh, an intense wave of heat and then, just like the cliché, everything goes black.
The first thing he’s aware of as he starts to come to is that he’s cold. He thinks it’s strange to feel cold when he’s just been burned. But then, he realises he’s lying on his back and doesn’t feel any pain. He sits up then, and feels a welcome wave of nausea. His thoughts were drifting towards some kind of revelation of life after death, but the nausea- such a normal, alive thing to feel- saves him from going down that path. He breathes a deep sigh of relief as he realises he must have cleared the car before the explosion.
But when he realises he’s it’s carpet, not on the grass beneath his fingertips and that there’s no sign of the burning silver Saab, but rather he’s very much indoors, he’s not so sure he hasn’t died.
And so he sits there, on the floor of the Rift Room feeling vaguely ill as he tries to work out exactly what has happened to him. But not one of the theories he arrives at is even remotely close to the truth.
As he drives the car into the square, he jams his foot down hard on the break and thumbs the door with his right hand, preparing to make a last minute dash that might just save his life. But even as his foot touches the ground, he knows it’s too late. There’s a loud wooooosh, an intense wave of heat and then, just like the cliché, everything goes black.
The first thing he’s aware of as he starts to come to is that he’s cold. He thinks it’s strange to feel cold when he’s just been burned. But then, he realises he’s lying on his back and doesn’t feel any pain. He sits up then, and feels a welcome wave of nausea. His thoughts were drifting towards some kind of revelation of life after death, but the nausea- such a normal, alive thing to feel- saves him from going down that path. He breathes a deep sigh of relief as he realises he must have cleared the car before the explosion.
But when he realises he’s it’s carpet, not on the grass beneath his fingertips and that there’s no sign of the burning silver Saab, but rather he’s very much indoors, he’s not so sure he hasn’t died.
And so he sits there, on the floor of the Rift Room feeling vaguely ill as he tries to work out exactly what has happened to him. But not one of the theories he arrives at is even remotely close to the truth.