Taltopia.com - Casting Calls, Contests & Auditions
Login with Facebook

Remove Ads?



Chapter 10

Writing

   
This media has been flagged as mature content and may not be appropriate for individuals under the age of 18. By clicking 'Continue' below you confirm that you are above the age of 18.

Chapter 10 - Screaming - 11:00am She was pale, her eyes pleading for release from the grip of pain. Vinnie carefully slipped his hand between her cheek and raised shoulder. The thought of doing this to anybody let alone his mother was foul. It had to go back into place, the stretching and tugging was unnatural, forcing her into a zone of agony. As he gently felt the shoulder joint, it's elevated position, she twitched and moan, the pain obviously excruciating. Vinnie played the fall back in his mind. The leather clad Terry, crazed and smashing his mother off her feet as she stood on the stairs. He had spun her as he grabbed the shocked woman and had taken most of the fall on the back of his neck. Vinnie had seen it snapped and could have sworn the biker was dead, but no he had risen to offer up an alien parasite. The memory evaporated and he felt his mother's soft skin. Yet where the bone pushed upwards it was hard, stretched and not wanting to delay he slid the clutched ball downwards, his palm flexing against the resistant tendons which finally pulled the ball back into its socket. She winched and passed out. Vinnie cradled her in his arms and was inwardly pleased. He sensed the shoulder would now mend. He recalled her words from moments before, "I can feel my legs, ahhh thank heavens, thank the gods!" the words had been nothing but a hoarse whisper but their power was rare and exposed. They both realised that her spine wasn't irreversibly damaged, it was just her shoulder and now he had seen to that. He thought to wake her, tell her it had worked, but rose and left her to sleep. She needed it. He had made her comfortable, cushions and blankets surrounded and supported her. She would be okay he realised. Through into the kitchen he walked and wondered what the hell he was going to do. Outside they were still falling, the alien aberrations, sleek bombs from the sky. He could see through into the garden, a pool of black and brown bodies. There on the work top was his laptop and he instinctively turned it on, pulled over a stall and watched it start up. Seconds later he started the internet browser and went to the news website. There were many news articles older than the current disaster but at least fifty percent of the headlines were about the aliens. Many were firsthand accounts and reports on the damage sustained. Thousands had died but Vinnie realised that this was only the start. The overall reason was obviously unknown, wide spread panic not surprisingly apparent. There were no answers here and Vinnie soon guessed that much of the content was censored. But there were sites that managed to avoid such strangulation. You Tube would be taken down soon he had no doubt because it was showing a series of videos, mobile phone captures, personal recordings that gave a true picture of what the world faced. Where words and articles were controlled the instant uploading of video was much more difficult to regulate, that is unless the host site were removed. Vinnie looked on as the true scale of the invasion started to become apparent. There were videos from all over the world. One sequence captivated him and he pushed in closer to the monitor as he watched heavy winds in a high rise city whip up the aliens into great funnel like tornadoes. Their combined weight, twisting, wildly flinging lose bodies into structures. Fires had started, larger tangled masses of intertwined bodies careering down, like fireballs, into the buildings. The sheer scale of the damage numbing, the death count now unimaginable. Vinnie tried to tune into his local radio station and there was nothing but static. All the normal news channels were off air. Over an hour had passed and the world was on shut down, accept for the videos online. He returned to the images of the tornadoes scything through the city again and he spotted something he hadn't noticed before. There was a fire of growing intensity in one of the districts, it was burning red, deep crimson that even from the height of the camera was obviously intense. Then it occurred to him; the aliens were flammable. He looked back at the monitor but the video was gone. Instead was a message that read, 'This site is temporarily unavailable'. Closing the lid Vinnie pushed away from the work top. He turned to the hallway and there lay the alien the biker had drop before Vinnie had slung him through the open doorway. He went forward and reluctantly picked it up. This wasn't the first time he had felt the enemy. They had struck him as he ran, he had pushed through them, inadvertently brushed them as he had helped the biker to safety from his driveway. But now he touched their warmth, the narrow ribbing running their body and muscles braced against the weight. Back into the kitchen and he tumbled it into the sink. The large slug form came to rest and he sneered with revulsion. Vinnie stumbled across to the microwave and upon this he retrieved a blue lighter from a wooden pot. He then found a rag beneath the sink. This lit easily and he placed the fiery sheet upon the alien. As the warm yellow light came down on the tough brown body, that was the creature, it began to flex and twitch, a low pitch scratching noise came from within it. The alien had no mouth, the sound, Vinnie thought, must be some form of cartilage or bone rubbing together as it tried to resist. Was the heat the trigger? Did it sense danger? Now the alien was vigorously twitching and Vinnie took a step back as the fire finally took hold, the flame doubling in height. The course rubbing was loader now, but it was no use as the flames engulfed the creature and in a matter of seconds it was still. What happen next was completely unexpected; as the fire went out all the fluids evaporated, the dry shell collapsed into a gray pile of ash. In the bottom of the sink was the outline of the slug body. "That's it!" The words weren't his. Mary had risen from the foot of the stairs and had watched his actions, "fire! Of course. Well done Vinnie, you've figured it out." He rushed forward to support her stooping form, "I don't know mum, it seems pretty dangerous. What happens if the fire spreads? We could all die." "But you saw as well as I did that it only takes a few seconds and the fire goes out." "Maybe, but what if there are thousands. The heat of the fire might be overwhelming." There was silence as they turned to the kitchen and the view down the house out into the back garden. The falling was still intense. "Should we do nothing? We've both seen what these things do. Maybe we should just try it?" "It's not that simple," Vinnie stated, "there are people in their homes. If we start a fire they could burn to death." He turned to face his mother and saw the desperation in her eyes. She had faced Terry the biker and his gift, the thought of one of those things attaching to her was now permanently ingrained in her consciousness. Her terror was clearer, more lived in, than his. "I say we risk it Vinnie. They're still coming down. Look!" Her finger prodded the air, the words were tinged with anger. Deep down Vinnie felt a sense of hopelessness and this stirred him to action. "Okay. Okay. I agree we have to try something. Look we can try one...fire bomb. I'll throw it from the window upstairs out into the gardens. The houses are collapsing anyway. For all we know this might go on for hours and then what?" "We'll all be buried alive...," Mary whispered, "Up there." She indicated a large bottle of vodka she had been give last Christmas. It was unopened. Using a stall Vinnie climbed up and retrieved it. Two litres of vodka. "What a waste," he muttered and unscrewed the cap. He soaked another rag and stuffed it in the end. "Hmmm, you seem to know what to do." His mother observed and Vinnie was about to respond with some Cub Scout quip, but thought better of it. This wasn't a game, they were taking a risk. "Come on, let's do this." They ran upstairs, aware that every second that passed saw the inevitable burial of the human landscape draw closer. "No, the front. The fire will be more contained, less vegetation to catch hold of if it tries." She instructed and they went through to the large window where they had previously stood. This was where they had seen the biker rocket into their front garden. They both went forward and looked out. The street was a sea of large slug like bodies, the level above ground floor windows. Terry was nowhere to be seen. "Where do you think he is?" "Maybe he's buried down there somewhere?" Neither of them believed this, but he wasn't in sight and so Vinnie turned to the bottle in his hand. "Open the window." Mary pushed the window as wide as it would go and Vinnie lit the dangling rag. With one mighty effort he thrust the clear bottle out and into the descending mass. It deflected off a slowly falling canopy and hit a lamppost. It exploded, a ball of flame swelling and then lashing the air. "Lucky shot," he said and Mary placed a hand on her son's shoulder. Beyond the fire was spreading, at first a few bodies had caught but now jagged fingers of fire were stretching out across the terrible surface, flames flicking and bursting as the aliens ignited and then became ash. From where they stood Mother and Son could see the bed of aliens slowly caving in to be replaced by their cremated remains, like the ground sinking as it cracks open with an earthquake. As the aliens came down they caught alight, eruptions of orange shooting into the sky, flickering blades cutting down the ascending. It was the sound though that greeted them which made Mary rush forward and slam the window shut. If filled the air, taking away the muffled car alarms the echo of the wind. It was the high pitched clicking, the bodies thrusting and twitching, the internal bone against cartilage; instruments playing the agony of death.

Promote This Media


    

Description


Chapter 10

Vinnie helps his mother with her injuries but the world outside is surely beyond repair. He sees the live footage of windswept, alien infested, tornadoes tearing up a city and has an idea. Might there be a way of combating the oncoming aliens?
Dominic Constable's The Falling Continues at http://www.thefalling.co.uk

Comments





 



+01
score


Uploaded By:

DominicCon...


Votes: 1
Views: 4
Date: 5/2/10
Category:
Other: Writing