Divine Descent

Chapter Twelve

The idea of an apocalypse is haunting enough, but there's nothing quite the sight of a sun that so desperately wishes to dazzle the earth, casted by a black shadow affecting every piece of the globe—simultaneously.

When I imagined any such event, I always expected chaos in the streets and then eventually a dead calm, once the resolve had set in, like the movies had portrayed. So far, the human race is living up to my expectations.

No one has resolved to anything yet.

The streets are chaotic, hordes of people crossing every way, more reckless with their lives that they would normally be on a regular day. It's January and there is no sun. None. Not even a slight ray of it that can seep down from endless space.

The temperatures have dropped even more than they would in winter. The televisions are reporting evacuations from the northern parts of the world that have quickly become unlivable. My mind continues circling back to thoughts of Oymyakon, imagining the small Russian town completely vacant, deserted. The cars here hardly stop for pedestrians, mostly because it's difficult to see them. At night, the freaks and looters emerge onto the roads, which have prompted a near worldwide curfew.

Mainly, people try to live their lives, try to imagine this is all some hoax, some anomaly.

They know better, but hope makes the world go round.

As I pass by the windows of architectural firms, seeing people slouched over a desk with a LED light shining on their work, a pencil tracing a blueprint, I marvel at their endurance, their desire for normalcy.

In Russia, in one of Elijah's many books, there was an article about the Great Smog of 1952, a toxic killing fog that smothered London for a span of five days. It led to the deaths of at least four-thousand people. While there were literal deadly toxins in the air, Londoners braved the weather and carried on with their lives as best as they could, despite the standstill.

Humans do make the best with what they have.

During the day, I'm able to see that clearly. However, I've been out here long enough on this walk to realize without the sun setting that we've bled into night now. There is a hanging silence that can lift the hairs on your arms, the sense of danger at every corner.

The wailing sirens that continue around the clock. The distant sounds of glass breaking, alarms blaring. The occasional family making a run for it, huddled close together, trying to get home without facing the evil of this world.

At night, they are free.

I can spot them easily, and they spot me.

Vampires bow their heads to me as they pass, a secretive look passing between us before they're gone. No doubt the word of our arrival in Italy has spread like wildfire now. Elijah had to have sent them off hours ago.

Over my head, an airplane soars. The airport is still functioning. Eventually, it will get too cold for that. Humans will be stuck where they are, forced to confine themselves for survival.

The shadow that haunts my mind, and now my reality, told me this would happen.

I'm not dumb enough to believe he's wrong.

A man standing by a trash can he's lit on fire glances to me, blinking at how poorly dressed I am. It is below freezing and I'm in a sleeveless shirt. Until his look, I hadn't even noticed I'd left without a coat. Thankfully, my skin is a normal shade, no glow in sight.

I don't know how I'd explain that.

In Italian, he asks me how the hell I'm not cold. I tell him I naturally run hot.