James
It was one of those ‘perfect’ days. The sky was blue, and sunlight streamed through the windows of the coffee shop. James sipped hot tea. From the TV mounted in the corner, the news droned on. Something about losing the war. Refusal to surrender. James ignored it.
Chants flooded the streets; signs with slogans etched in permanent marker waved boldly. His gaze stalled on a young girl. Her appearance ignited a sense of familiarity in James… PING!
A blood vessel nearly popped.
Upon reading the message, he pinched himself until angry, red splotches marred his skin. There must have been a mistake. James was supposed to be flown out of the country. It was part of the agreement.
‘I’m sorry, John. Hope and pray to God it’ll be quick. You have my thoughts and prayers.’
Mary
The nation panicked, flooding social media. In denial, then joking about the bombs. But the government was serious. Were they just going to leave them all to die? Outrage erupted.
Mary found herself ready to change the world. She had a big sign in hand: “Stop the bombs and SURRENDER.”
Mary didn’t have time to create a catchy phrase— rushing out of the apartment after an explosive fight with her sister. Her mom hadn’t bothered to ask where Mary was going, lost in the mountains of bottles around the couch. Oh, and she was about to be blown up alongside her country.
Cars honked at them— trying to get to the airport.
The asphalt under her charred her soles. Too hot, too loud.
Too soon.
James
The tea sat shivering. It couldn’t get worse, James thought. It couldn’t.
A few minutes ago, a new notification popped up. It was a ‘lovely’ countdown timer.
Phones were buzzing off tables as their ringtones sliced through the frenzied conversations. A new air of restlessness lingered, static, like a cobra waiting to strike.
The girl was still standing there.
Had he really spent the last night of his life slaving away on a report for work? The light blaring in through the windows burned his eyes, and his ears rang as the migraine continued its tantrum. He tried to block out the hysterical cries as people called their families.
Mary
“We want to live!”
They all screamed. She’d heard that phrase so many times in the past hour; it began to feel hollow and foreign. Mary saw the clouds closing in on them, rounding them up like cattle.
She kept glancing at the timer on her phone.
She was supposed to have school tomorrow.
“Please, just surrender.”
She should have started on her English homework by now. That’s tomorrow’s problem. Mary focused on how the clouds contorted into funny shapes. But her eyes were fixated on a malignant tumor protruding from the puffy mass. She thought it looked like a mushroom.
James
James had practically ripped most of his hair out, not that he had much left from years on this job. His boss probably already fled the country. Not that he cared. She hadn’t even bothered to use the correct name in the message after 15 years.
He looked outside, shoulders tense. James figured if he would die either way, he’d rather go staring death in the face.
Discarded signs lined the pavement. The buildings solemnly stood as rain trickled down them. James rested his hand on the cold, glass door. Rain lashed at him, blasting toward the windows behind him like bullets. He prayed to God it’ll all end quickly.
Boom.
Thunder cackled.
Mary
Mary had never been a religious person, despite her namesake. But in that moment, she had never prayed so devoutly. She prayed to anyone up there that this would end. Maybe the news was wrong, and the treaty was signed. This was one big misunderstanding. Maybe after the timer reaches zero, there’ll be a celebration!
It was quiet.
People had left their cars. Crowds poured out of buildings. All looking up at the sky, now an ugly grey destined for black. A never-ending black.
Mary felt a sudden warmth envelop her.
James
The red text on the TVs made the glistening streets look as if they were caked in blood. He would have called himself a creep if this were to happen in any other situation, hugging a girl that oddly resembled his estranged daughter as life ticked away. He wished he could apologize to her— at least for his own sake. As if she’s sand slipping away from his embrace, James tightened his hold on the girl.
Mary
“I’m sorry.”
Mary heard the man say. Although she didn’t know what to make of the whirling cauldron of emotions in her gut, she felt nice. As nice as anyone about to get blown up would. This stranger had shown more compassion towards Mary than her mom did her whole worthless life. She’d been stupid to walk out on her sister.
“I’m sorry, too.” All around her, she heard sobs.
“It’s over, isn’t it?”
He nodded shakily.
“Please don’t leave.”
James
Time faded into a watercolor blur. A loud boom echoed somewhere in the jungle of concrete and glass as metal creaked and roared. The girl flinched. He heard someone scream, or was that more metal? He peered up at the void one last time, to find no one looking back. Instead, specks of white marked their path across the tar-black sky. He held the girl closer to his chest.
This time, James didn’t know who to pray to.
Mary
Mary couldn’t see them, tucked into the man’s coat, but she could feel them. Their anguish. From the corner of her eyes, she saw it. An army of spots on the horizon, rapidly increasing in size. She wanted to yell, to shout at the unfairness of it all. She wanted to run home to her sister, to hug her and tell her that it’ll be fine as the sky screamed.
But in those last moments, Mary only had a stranger to cling to.