Apocabigbang: Fic: Postremus Regum Britanniae; Merlin; R; Chapter 3
Chapter 2: Following the Unicorn Takes You to Strange Places
Chapter 3: A Journey in the Dark
They did work something out. It had involved Jeff entrusting his guitar to Arthur for about half a minute, while he scrambled down after it, but apart from his glaring, they had all got down just fine.
Walking along an underground line was not as much fun as Merlin had imagined. Not that he had imagined it very often, but when Will had suggested it, he had thought that it might be sort of cool.
It turned out that he was right in a way; it was quite cool, chilly in fact. A long dark tunnel in early winter was apparently not the warmest place in the world. Who knew?
He wrapped his arms around his body, wishing that he had thought to bring a thicker coat with him to work that day and wondering whether they had flying Harry Potter monsters in Hawaii.
They probably didn’t, he decided after a moment. It was probably just Britain that had the flying monsters. The rest of the world might not even have noticed yet. And then the British Isles would become a Jurassic park tourist attraction: come and see the mythical safari land of Britain, Europe’s number one tourist destination. Walk with dragons and see unicorns gallop along the streets of what was once a proud and rich city. The tour guides would probably get the bridges mixed up as well.
He hoped his mother was still inside her house, having a slice of cake and a cup of tea as the world ended. He hoped that the same men Gwen had told them about had not come to their neighbourhood and pulled her from her home. He had tried to use Will’s phone to call her, but it had not worked. It only seemed to get signal for Gwen’s calls. He had caught Morgana watching it a little suspiciously a few times, but dismissed it - she was a little bit crazy after all.
The London Underground was not interesting at all. It was black and long and Merlin kept tripping over rails or sleepers or whatever else there was down there. He had nearly landed on his face twice, much to the amusement of Arthur and the others. There was nothing remotely fun about shuffling down it with only ridiculous torches to help them.
They had passed a few other stations along the way so far, all abandoned.
And once, they had come across a train. It had clearly been going when the earthquake had come and the carriages were scissored off the track, smashed into one of the walls, ending up half on its side and blocking the tunnel. They had had to climb over it.
There had been bodies in that one, and the entire party had lapsed into silence in some form of twisted respect as they had clambered over the corpses in their unintended coffin.
Let us now have two minutes silence, to remember all those who lost their lives, he thought, remembering the poppies and the memorials surrounded with people.
If they got through this, then there would be more memorials built, though there would not be as many people to visit them.
People in power would tut and shake their heads saying ‘such a senseless waste of life’ and other trite phrases. They would buy a paper flower and think that they were doing their bit. They would remember in that solemn, ritualistic remembrance that deliberately blocked out the screaming and the images of people lying in pools of their own blood and, if they got through this, in a few generations, this would just be another date people remembered.
If they got through this.
This was the problem with the distinct lack of scenery, he thought, almost tripping over his own feet as he tried to change the subject of his thoughts. It gave you time to think.
“We’re going to need food,” Arthur said, a few metres away from the end of that train. “We’ll need food, water and heat somehow.” He spoke clinically, like he hadn’t just seen what they had all seen. These were the facts, his voice said, there is no room for emotion.
“The shops,” Lance replied, clearly understanding Arthur’s sudden detachment in a way Merlin couldn’t. If he’d had anything left to throw up after everything he had already seen, then he would have been retching in a corner. All he could really see in the dark were dead faces, watching him. “We should be able to pick up everything we need from the shops. Tinned food and bottled water. If they’ve cut off the electricity, then it only makes sense that they’ve cut off the water as well.”
No one asked who ‘they’ were. There was just a general feeling, floating among them, that this was not a coincidence. None of them, Merlin knew, were persuaded by Morgana’s arguments, fanciful as they were, but there was some sort of power behind this. If there wasn’t, if this was just a random event, a cataclysm they hadn’t even seen coming, then they had nothing to hope for.
If there was someone behind it, there was someone to fight.
“We’d have to be careful,” Arthur said, stating the obvious, “there are probably things up there we haven’t met yet, and I know there are things up there we don’t want to meet again.”
There were murmurs of agreement, particularly from Will where he walked next to Merlin.
He recalled the herd of creatures around them, waiting, and thought about what they might have been waiting for. He remembered the woman who walked past them, triumphant as a conqueror, and he knew that he didn’t want to know.
“We’ll need clothes too,” he said instead. “And blankets… It’s not like an electric fire’s going to work, and actual fire will smoke us to death if we’re not careful.”
“We’re going to need weapons,” Will said.
There was no sound from anyone, but they knew he was right. If they were going to survive they needed to be armed. Merlin wondered whether he had it in him to kill something. He remembered the monsters from earlier and thought perhaps he did.
“We’ll find them somehow,” Arthur said. He did not sound delighted by the idea, but Merlin couldn’t judge him for being nervous, they all were. It was the only thing they had in common.
No one mentioned what they would need again. They walked on in silence.
*
Merlin wasn’t sure when they arrived at Clapham North. Without the sun it was difficult to judge the passage of time and his phone, clearly sensing that the world was collapsing, had given up the ghost hours ago - or seemingly.
Somewhere along the way, in an attempt to break the tense silence, someone had started whistling ‘always look on the bright side of life’ and one by one they had joined in, united in the same morbid sense of humour. They reminded Merlin of the dwarves from Snow White, whistling as they worked the mines.
He’d probably end up as Dopey, he though uncharitably.
The station was deserted when they came to it and the last notes of their whistling echoed even more off tiled wall.
They sat down to wait, drawing together out of some unspoken agreement that none of them would be left alone. Merlin found his shoulders sandwiched between Will and Arthur. Will was staring at his phone, clearly hoping for word from Gwen, and Arthur was just looking down. Merlin’s eyes had finally adjusted to the dim light of the torches and he could pretty much see clearly now. It seemed strange to remember how thick the blackness had been at the beginning.
The warmth from them, burrowing into his body, was a welcome relief from the chill. Will nudged him and gave him a small grin.
*
Chapter 4: London Calling to the Underground
Chapter 3: A Journey in the Dark
They did work something out. It had involved Jeff entrusting his guitar to Arthur for about half a minute, while he scrambled down after it, but apart from his glaring, they had all got down just fine.
Walking along an underground line was not as much fun as Merlin had imagined. Not that he had imagined it very often, but when Will had suggested it, he had thought that it might be sort of cool.
It turned out that he was right in a way; it was quite cool, chilly in fact. A long dark tunnel in early winter was apparently not the warmest place in the world. Who knew?
He wrapped his arms around his body, wishing that he had thought to bring a thicker coat with him to work that day and wondering whether they had flying Harry Potter monsters in Hawaii.
They probably didn’t, he decided after a moment. It was probably just Britain that had the flying monsters. The rest of the world might not even have noticed yet. And then the British Isles would become a Jurassic park tourist attraction: come and see the mythical safari land of Britain, Europe’s number one tourist destination. Walk with dragons and see unicorns gallop along the streets of what was once a proud and rich city. The tour guides would probably get the bridges mixed up as well.
He hoped his mother was still inside her house, having a slice of cake and a cup of tea as the world ended. He hoped that the same men Gwen had told them about had not come to their neighbourhood and pulled her from her home. He had tried to use Will’s phone to call her, but it had not worked. It only seemed to get signal for Gwen’s calls. He had caught Morgana watching it a little suspiciously a few times, but dismissed it - she was a little bit crazy after all.
The London Underground was not interesting at all. It was black and long and Merlin kept tripping over rails or sleepers or whatever else there was down there. He had nearly landed on his face twice, much to the amusement of Arthur and the others. There was nothing remotely fun about shuffling down it with only ridiculous torches to help them.
They had passed a few other stations along the way so far, all abandoned.
And once, they had come across a train. It had clearly been going when the earthquake had come and the carriages were scissored off the track, smashed into one of the walls, ending up half on its side and blocking the tunnel. They had had to climb over it.
There had been bodies in that one, and the entire party had lapsed into silence in some form of twisted respect as they had clambered over the corpses in their unintended coffin.
Let us now have two minutes silence, to remember all those who lost their lives, he thought, remembering the poppies and the memorials surrounded with people.
If they got through this, then there would be more memorials built, though there would not be as many people to visit them.
People in power would tut and shake their heads saying ‘such a senseless waste of life’ and other trite phrases. They would buy a paper flower and think that they were doing their bit. They would remember in that solemn, ritualistic remembrance that deliberately blocked out the screaming and the images of people lying in pools of their own blood and, if they got through this, in a few generations, this would just be another date people remembered.
If they got through this.
This was the problem with the distinct lack of scenery, he thought, almost tripping over his own feet as he tried to change the subject of his thoughts. It gave you time to think.
“We’re going to need food,” Arthur said, a few metres away from the end of that train. “We’ll need food, water and heat somehow.” He spoke clinically, like he hadn’t just seen what they had all seen. These were the facts, his voice said, there is no room for emotion.
“The shops,” Lance replied, clearly understanding Arthur’s sudden detachment in a way Merlin couldn’t. If he’d had anything left to throw up after everything he had already seen, then he would have been retching in a corner. All he could really see in the dark were dead faces, watching him. “We should be able to pick up everything we need from the shops. Tinned food and bottled water. If they’ve cut off the electricity, then it only makes sense that they’ve cut off the water as well.”
No one asked who ‘they’ were. There was just a general feeling, floating among them, that this was not a coincidence. None of them, Merlin knew, were persuaded by Morgana’s arguments, fanciful as they were, but there was some sort of power behind this. If there wasn’t, if this was just a random event, a cataclysm they hadn’t even seen coming, then they had nothing to hope for.
If there was someone behind it, there was someone to fight.
“We’d have to be careful,” Arthur said, stating the obvious, “there are probably things up there we haven’t met yet, and I know there are things up there we don’t want to meet again.”
There were murmurs of agreement, particularly from Will where he walked next to Merlin.
He recalled the herd of creatures around them, waiting, and thought about what they might have been waiting for. He remembered the woman who walked past them, triumphant as a conqueror, and he knew that he didn’t want to know.
“We’ll need clothes too,” he said instead. “And blankets… It’s not like an electric fire’s going to work, and actual fire will smoke us to death if we’re not careful.”
“We’re going to need weapons,” Will said.
There was no sound from anyone, but they knew he was right. If they were going to survive they needed to be armed. Merlin wondered whether he had it in him to kill something. He remembered the monsters from earlier and thought perhaps he did.
“We’ll find them somehow,” Arthur said. He did not sound delighted by the idea, but Merlin couldn’t judge him for being nervous, they all were. It was the only thing they had in common.
No one mentioned what they would need again. They walked on in silence.
*
Merlin wasn’t sure when they arrived at Clapham North. Without the sun it was difficult to judge the passage of time and his phone, clearly sensing that the world was collapsing, had given up the ghost hours ago - or seemingly.
Somewhere along the way, in an attempt to break the tense silence, someone had started whistling ‘always look on the bright side of life’ and one by one they had joined in, united in the same morbid sense of humour. They reminded Merlin of the dwarves from Snow White, whistling as they worked the mines.
He’d probably end up as Dopey, he though uncharitably.
The station was deserted when they came to it and the last notes of their whistling echoed even more off tiled wall.
They sat down to wait, drawing together out of some unspoken agreement that none of them would be left alone. Merlin found his shoulders sandwiched between Will and Arthur. Will was staring at his phone, clearly hoping for word from Gwen, and Arthur was just looking down. Merlin’s eyes had finally adjusted to the dim light of the torches and he could pretty much see clearly now. It seemed strange to remember how thick the blackness had been at the beginning.
The warmth from them, burrowing into his body, was a welcome relief from the chill. Will nudged him and gave him a small grin.
*
Chapter 4: London Calling to the Underground