Beacon Of Light: Episode one (The ultimate post apocalyptic sci-fi thriller serial) (7 page)

Twenty Four

‘Any news from 48
th
street?’ Asks Mr Conway

Mrs Harriet brushes her hair to the side and smiles.

‘Yeah, they got the job done. The estimated death toll is three hundred. They got some serious gunfire in,’ says Mrs Harriet

‘Any kids?’

‘No, fortunately all the kids were in school so just adults’

‘Good, I may be a revolutionary but even I don’t agree with killing kids. They should not have to suffer for the mistakes of their parents’

‘I agree,’ says Mrs Harriet

Mr Conway gets up from his seat and stretches his arms. His bulk is evident from a good few feet away. The sheer sight of the man invokes fear in everyone, including Mrs Harriet.

He walks over to Mrs Harriet and spins the chair she is on around, to face him. He starts to stroke her face in a menacing way.

‘You did good Mrs Harriet, real
good,’ he says

She blushes, trying to hide the uncertainty she feels.

‘I appreciate your support sir’

‘Now about that disciplinary action…’ he says, still caressing her.

‘I thought you said there would be no action taken against me?’

‘Well, a lashing is what I consider disciplinary action, what I have planned for you is a lot more enjoyable and whole lot less painful, you could even say you would enjoy it’

Mrs Harriet closes her eyes and composes herself, trying to fight off the urge to break this man’s fingers. She can’t fight back, she needs to pucker up and knuckle down. The country is depending on her.

‘As you wish,’ she says while undoing her blouse.

Twenty Five

DeShaun is sipping on another hot cup of coffee, this time in his own office. He’s working some files on his computer when a man comes bursting through the door. He’s a tall man, slender build, wearing an officer’s uniform. He salutes DeShaun and stands at attention. All this is making DeShaun feel uneasy, he doesn’t like being saluted, he isn’t in the army after all, but the army people salute all government officials, for it is the government these men and women fight for.

‘What’s the problem?’ DeShaun asks as he sips on his coffee some more

The officer looks at him and shakes his head, trying to excrete some words out of his own mouth.

‘There has been an attack on 48
th
street, Manhattan sir’

‘What sort of an attack?
Planes?’

‘No sir, a group of armed men dressed in body armour opened fire and killed two hundred and eighty seven people, including thirty two police officers’

DeShaun gets up from his seat, feeling woozy at the sound of the news he is receiving.

‘You’re kidding me
?...What about the combusting people? Why are parts of New York untouched by this virus?’

‘I don’t know sir, but reports are coming in that after the attack, the Manhattan area is now experiencing the same viral symptoms that Brooklyn is experiencing’

‘So these armed men could be linked with this virus?’

‘It looks that way sir, there’s one more thing,’ says the officer

‘What?’

‘The Mayor is missing’

Twenty Six

Ray has been walking through the sewer system now for an hour. He’s walked past the ladder he climbed down yesterday and now finds himself exploring the depths of the sewer.  Its dark and cold down there, a feeling that he has grown accustom to since all this has gone down. He feels as if his life is near its end. A life that maybe he didn’t live to its fullest. He hasn’t always been happy; hell he has never been happy. He was all too consumed with the mundane details of life to enjoy the true great things in it. His work had been his hobby. His money had been his love. He never had a serious relationship. Many women would run for the hills after realising what type of man he is.
A man that consumes himself with work ethic and drive. A man who doesn’t really see a women for more than a night’s work, and a lifetime’s burden. He nearly found the right girl back a few years ago, it turned into more than a one night thing but unfortunately his work got in  the way again.

Now he finds himself wondering those same things, is his survival getting in the way of what is really happening? Should he be concentrating on the mysteries of this strange time he is living in? That’s why he brought his laptop down with him in the first place. Maybe it’s time he starts to make something of himself. He gathers that there are many capable people up above that could be doing the same thing he is doing. Wandering what is causing this. He’s sure that there are people who are being assigned jobs in finding out what is happening up there. He can be pretty sure that the government its self is trying to figure out who is behind all this, surly it’s their jobs to find out why people are self-combusting everywhere, and why flashing lights are causing these combustions.

Maybe it’s the government who is behind this. Maybe that’s why he heard gunshots earlier on, maybe the National Guard did show up, but they decided to finish off what they couldn’t finish with the beacons alone. Either way, Ray finds himself lost in more conspiracies. He’s used to thinking the worst, but for the first time in his life he finds himself living in the worst, living in every thinker’s worst nightmare. A world where power has overtaken and technology is obviously at fault. How else can he be safe underground? How else can these beacons not touch him under a hundred feet of concrete? It must be satellites, or a virus that hasn’t made its way underground, but surly if it was a virus then him and the people who were once up top, but now find themselves underground would have spread the viral pathogen around by now.

Ray looks down at his wrist. The once flashing light is not flashing anymore. The flashing had stopped for the time he had been underground, so a virus is out of the question. He’s safe underground, and if this thing was air born, he wouldn’t be safe, consider the amount of open grates and sewage pipes would have let the virus in by now, his wrist would be flashing, and he would have exploded.

The further he walks the more light he can see. It’s evident to him that he can see the maintenance area for the metro from here. It seems that New York’s underground tunnels of sewage and train tracks come quite close to each other. He already knew that anyway, it doesn’t take an historian to know that New York’s underground is just as congested as New York’s over ground’s skyscrapers and roads.

After a few more minutes of walking he decides to make his way down one of the service hatches towards the metro. He is greeted with some lighting, as the train tracks remain silent with a distant echo of wind. The sight of the empty rows of tracks sends a shiver down his spine. He can see the dust in the air, a monument of the trains that not too long ago would rush down these parts at a hundred miles an hour. Some of
them going to Brooklyn, others to Manhattan, all them going somewhere, now none of them going anywhere. He carries on walking straight down the tracks; he spots a faint light approaching. It startles him as he feels the tracks below his feet rumble. Could it be that his theory on the trains not running anymore be wrong? He stops dead in the center of the track and kneels down. He puts his dirty hand on the copper track and feels the vibrations. With every second passing he feels the vibrations grow stronger. The light that was once far away is now edging even closer to him, then the sound kicks in, a sound that Ray will never likely forget. It’s the sound of a speeding train accompanied by screams of terror. He quickly jumps off the track and rolls into a dirt ditch. The ditch is dirty with a distinct smell of wet concrete. He looks up and spots scaffolding. He realises where he is. They recently announced they were extending the underground rail network, he must be clamouring for his life in a workman’s pit. He can hear the train approach as he makes his way up to catch a glimpse of it pass by. Within seconds he sees the train pass just above him as he hugs the dirt. What surprises him isn’t the fact that the train is there at all; it’s the fact that the cabins passing him are on fire, each one of them ablaze with a tremendous heat. He can see the windows of the cabin and inside are terrorized faces of men and women screaming in pain. They smack their hands against the window as the train speeds by. The sheer heat of the train makes Ray burst out in a sweat. He can see imprints of blood on the train’s windows. Within seconds of the train reaching him, it had disappeared down the way he came, screeching in terror, on fire, while leaving a thick dense cloud of dust behind.

Tiny sparks ignite in the air as he looks up at where the train had passed. He quickly gets up and climbs out of the ditch. He turns back to see the blazing train race down the tracks. He watches it disappear into the darkness. The screams fade away but the
smell of burning metal and seared flesh remain stagnant in the air. Ray turns around and is met with a startling scene. A woman is making her way down the tracks towards him; she is dragging a man with her. Ray rubs his eyes, not sure of what he is seeing. He then realises what he is seeing is real. He rushes over to the struggling woman and helps her with the man. He immediately notices the injured man has been shot, and then realises the man is wearing a police man’s uniform.

‘What happened?’ he asks the tiered looking woman

‘I found him on a stairwell next to the metro entrance on 50th’

‘He’s been shot, it looks bad,’ says Ray out of breath

‘Yeah, I know, I’m an intern’

‘A doctor?’ asks Ray

‘Yeah, well sort of, I’m Donner’

Ray smiles

‘Nice to meet you Donner, I’m Ray’

‘We need to find somewhere safe, the train tracks aren’t the ideal place right now’

‘You’re telling me, I can take you somewhere safe. A place where there are people. It’s in the sewers, there’s five of us’

‘Lead the way,’ Donner says while grasping the policeman’s arm, trying to stabilize him.

To be continued

Beacon Of Light episode two coming May the 7
th
2013!

More books by Luis Samways:

Boston Blood

One in the chamber

25
th
of dismember

If you enjoyed the first episode of this series, please be kind enough to leave a review. As a matter of fact, please leave a review even if you didn’t enjoy the episode so much, your satisfaction is what I strive for with every release!

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https://twitter.com/LuisSamways

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The following is a little extract from my book Boston Blood. I hope you enjoy it!

Boston Blood

Available now, only on Kindle!

One

The sound of his beeper wakes Frank up. He looks around the room trying to get his wits about him, shaking his hangover off as a result of the night before. He lays slouched against the headboard and looks around his bedroom while squinting and trying to adjust to the light that is finding its way through the curtains, smiling to himself when he sees the empty bottle of jack lying on the floor next to his gun. He grabs his packet of cigarettes from the bed side table. Fondling around the draw, he tries to find his lighter, he finally finds it, and lights up the cigarette. The dim light reveals a messy room with folders and documents strewn all over the place. He drags hard on the smoke and exhales a cloud of grey bliss that’s soothing him to near sleep once again. As he dozes off his cell phone starts ringing, it startles Frank. He picks it up and answers.

‘Frank speaking,’ he mutters, still smoking his cigarette while half awake.

‘Hey Frank, you need to come in. There’s been an incident down Stella Avenue in Rixton,’ the voice says on the phone.

‘What kind of incident?’

Frank coughs trying to clear his throat.

‘There’s been a massacre in a family home, around 15 dead Sir.’

‘Damn, I’ll be down in a bit, meet me down there,’ he says.

He hangs up the phone and shoots out of bed quickly rushing around the room looking for his clothes. He puts on what he can find, a white T shirt and charcoal trousers. There’s a stain on the sleeve of his shirt which he manages to get out after a few minutes. He goes into the bathroom and looks in the mirror. He stops dead while intently staring at himself like he doesn’t recognise who he is. Grabbing some hair gel from the cabinet above the mirror, he starts to apply it to his blond short hair. Stopping again as he looks harder into his reflection, he notices his beard is starting to come through; he has no time to clean shave. Frank starts to look around the bathroom for his electric beard trimmer; he spots it on a pile of wet towels. Grabbing it, he starts shaving rapidly, not caring about the hair debris from the razor falling on the floor. He realises he is getting the bathroom floor messy, so he moves over to the sink. As he continues to shave
he once again looks up at the mirror, this time he doesn’t stop still at all; he carries on shaving, driving himself into a hypnotic state as the sound of the razors sheering his beard is embedded into his mind. The sound is gradually getting louder and louder as he stares deeper into his own reflection, catching a distorted glimpse of his eyes. He stares harder into his cold dark blue eyes and stops still in awe of himself. The razor’s still shredding hair on his face as it makes its way up and down his side burns. Frank remains dead still, flashes of the reasons he drinks play in his mind non-stop while he looks at himself. He looks deeper into the mirror, and as he does, a woman’s ghostly face appears in it, replacing his reflection. She snarls at him, her face is covered in bruises. She laughs.