Patterns and secrets, the beginning of the end

Patterns and secrets, the beginning of the end.

It’s a cramped space, but it will do. At least it’s not out there. Mandy Wriggles deeper into the underground chamber. Once upon a time it was a mechanic’s pit. Now, it is her only hope for survival. Out beyond the dark and enclosed space, she can hear the first of the explosions. The fear is quickly turning into panic as she tries to get closer to the concrete wall. The light was blinding and the sound of the impact was louder than thunder.

If it wasn’t a sunny ninety degree day, with not a trace of a cloud in the sky, she would have thought it was a lightning strike. But lightning strikes don’t look like that. The little voice inside her head isn’t arguing. It’s pleading with her sanity. The car didn’t just explode, it melted…then it exploded. That scared her and got her moving. The strange blue light happened. It may have come from above, but she was too caught up in its intensity, and the immediate effect it had on the car. And the man inside. When she thinks back on it later, her mind will block that particular memory.

Patterns and Secrets

Another explosion from outside the old abandoned building. This one is much louder, and so strong, she feels the vibrations through the old cement floor. Dust falls from the steel ramp above her head. Then larger pieces of the ceiling above that. Another explosion. And it rocks the building this time. Now Mandy can hear that awful blue light and its patterns. She wasn’t aware of it at first because the blueish white light melts the car, then the man behind the wheel. There is a hissing sound as the light intensifies. Now, Mandy hears that hissing sound just before each successive explosion.

Mandy’s dad was in the war. Sometimes, when she was smaller, she would ask him about his time there. He had many stories from those days, and not all of them were boring. However, she was particularly riveted to the stories about the chaos of an attack. Many times he talked about the way artillery shells would fall from the sky. Or the way a bullet sounds in the open air, when it zips past the ear. Now as she tries even harder to shrink herself against the wall, she can hear that hissing sound just before each explosion. There are patterns to it, she thinks. She knows it’s the blue light. The blue beam of light that melts cars. And people.

The Beginning of the End

Jack grips the wheel tightly. The traffic is bad. Furthermore, it appears to be getting worse. The radio calls are coming in more frequently now. This is an unfolding situation. Four reported explosions. So far. To make matters worse, it is happening in the worst part of the day. The evening rush hour. It will definitely impact the time it takes them to get to the site. He looks at the address again. It’s the highway in front of an old abandoned strip mall. Vehicle explosions. More than one. Then there were two. A minute later the caller reports three, and possibly another.

What the hell, he thinks, as he drives through the heavily congested roads. He never expected this. In less than twelve hours he is going to blow the lid off a conspiracy so big he may not survive to see the results. He lived safely in the knowledge that it wasn’t known how much he actually knew. Similarly there is no way for any one person to know the amount of evidence he gathered. He realized early on how easily he could be compromised, and the last thing he wants to do now, is tip his hand.

Secrets and Patterns

The radio comes back to life with the report of another explosion. Additionally, there are buildings involved. The explosions have triggered a fire. Jack weaves the rescue vehicle in and out of traffic. On the horizon he can see the smoke from the fire, and the brief flash, of another explosion. He sees something else as well. A minute later it comes again, just before another one of those explosions. Laser fast and lethal, the blueish white beam drops from the sky and a moment later another explosion.

If Jack hadn’t spent the last two years investigating this phenomenon, he wouldn’t understand what is happening. As it is, he can scarcely believe what he’s seeing. Less than twelve hours from now. He reminds himself and drives. They have to help as many as they can. In the distance, another explosion sends a plume of smoke into the air above the scene. The radio is silent. There are too many events to report now. Jack drives on resisting the urge to speculate. If they are walking into an active attack zone, he is the only one who knows it.

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