Blink {Featured}

Chapter Thirty Six

(35y) 2023, 21.16

They headed out, filing through the doorway in order. When they left the room, Dad gasped at the ash and ichor, at the carnage wreaked of the offices. Deep gashes in the tables. A few window panes shattered. Another tremor shook the building, and this time John saw flashes of light through the window, heard people screaming in the distance.

'Fuck,' Semila said as they all stared out the windows.

What looked like meteors the size of wrecking balls whistled to the ground, smashed buildings, crashed and burned with tremors that shook all around them, increasing in frequency. The sight froze them with awe as they watched smoke trail one huge misshapen flaming ball that crashed to the pavement of the parking lot outside the police headquarters, scraping tar and mortar from its path. Another flew straight at them, breaking the spell.

'Go!' Marty screamed, grabbing Semila's arm while John and Dad took the stairs two at a time, flying through the exit moments later. The thing crashed into the office where they'd been a breath ago. Shook the building like jelly. Dad lost his footing in the shaking. Fell hard to the ground. John watched a giant crack cut up the side of the police headquarters as he stooped to help Dad up. 'Put your arm over my shoulders Dad, I've got you.'

'Let's hurry,' Semila mumbled beside him. The roof fell in on one side, groaning, cracking. Fire sprung from the windows where they'd stood moments before.

'Yeah,' he mumbled, glancing back over his shoulder as they jogged to Marty's car. Marty opened the passenger door, but Semila screamed. 'No! Get out!'

A whistling noise grew rapidly louder, and Marty leapt away from the car as a meteor smashed into it. The thing exploded. The impact threw John from his father into the air, the wind cold against his cheeks before asphalt cut his palms and whistling deafened him. Fuck. Shit. He smelt smoke, tasted blood. Dirt.

'John!' Semila shook him, tugged at his arm. Smoke filled the sky, the screams from all around louder, the bangs a near constant. The drums of war, he couldn't help thinking. Flashes of that day with Tom made the whole thing seem surreal. Between buildings crumpling John glimpsed mud splattering, limbs flying, blood curdling screams echoing amidst the desperate wails of civilians. Semila pulled him forward by the hand, her hair a beacon in the gloom.

Through the smoke a new figure appeared, like a demon but way fucking bigger. It growled and smashed its fist at them. They scattered in the nick of time. The pavement split, hurling sharp fragments of cement in a wide radius. The thing roared. 'Your sword!' Semila screamed.

John nodded. They bent low, tensed, and ran together to cut the thing down. John looked to his left to meet Semila's eyes, and instead he saw John Two and futuristic Catsuit Semila running with them at the thing, screaming. His voice joined theirs. As they ran to stab the thing, Marty's gun went off. Another monster that'd come from the other side. It stumbled, fell with a boom that shook the ground.

'Good going, mate,' John said, then his arm jolted on impact with the demon, ichor splattered him. He'd hit its midriff. John Two and Sem Two smiled at him as the demon collapsed into itself. John Two saluted and they fizzled to nothingness. He met Semila's eyes and together they ran for the street. Sem bumped shoulders with him. 'We're fucking awesome.' She was smiling.

'No shit,' he said. Their breaths huffed, they dodged debris, burning cars. 'Marty?' he asked.

'Taking your Dad to find Mrs Finnie and Samantha.'

'Course,' John said.

The demons became more numerous as they ran, as if the things sought them out in particular. Screaming, frantic people ran haphazardly through the half-light. Broken streetlights spluttered sparks. Collapsed buildings made their path trickier to follow, but John left the navigation to Semila and focused on cutting down demons and avoiding panicked civilians. With each slash through a black demon body, John's confidence grew and along with it, his strength. Somehow he knew the sword made him stronger. He could feel energy sparking up his arm whenever he sliced at a demon's skin. He wasn't sure how that worked, some transference, maybe? And honestly he didn't care, as long as it did. The more he fought, the stronger he felt, a heady rush akin to battle berserking or dosing on ecstasy.