The end II - The past

Sorry I was a bit late, but this one's a little longer! For new readers (yeah right haha), read the previous post titled 'The end' first.

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I was walking down the road, as I often would, my bag slung on my back, alone. It was very cold and I had the hood of my sweatshirt up. I looked behind me when I came to the crossing. Bright yellow lights of a car shone through the fog. The sky was full of white fluffy clouds and the moon peeked out through a gap in them. The moonlight made the road shine with its own ethereal light. I waited for the car to pass. It was a shiny convertible, two guys in the front seats with the volume throttled to the maximum. Some kind of new age fusion music prevalent among the not so intellectually gifted.

They drove past me, making a dull whooshing sound. The loud internal combustion engines of the past could not be found outside of museum displays now. That was because it had been about 50 years since the last drop of petroleum was mined from the ground. Scientists had been after it for years, but the real quest for alternate fuel began when we actually started running out of oil. Nothing drives innovation more than high prices and tanking profits. We had been on the brink of worldwide famine. Economies were collapsing and war was the only means of survival. When it finally came, it was hailed as a milestone in human achievement. Presidents ran to podiums to claim this as a victory for mankind, their nation and their political party. Masses of people came out, to pray, to drink, to fornicate. It was anointed as a symbol of mankind’s ingenuity and resilience. It was called the Particle Engine.

In reality, it was just a dirty way for humanity to continue its easy way of life. Fossil fuels had opened our eyes to a world never seen by any animal on this planet, perhaps any being in the universe. We had a taste of it and inebriated by its power, we were willing to give anything, pay any price, to sustain this drunken stupor. And pay we did.

The sound of the engine revving startled me back to the present. It was an irritating sound. They sped up when they saw a couple of girls on the corner looking at them. The girls squealed with laughter and waived at the guys. They slammed the brakes, said something indistinguishable and the girls jumped in the back, giggling. I wish I had a convertible and listened to new age hip hop fusion.

I pulled up my sagging backpack and crossed the road, glancing back once again to make sure no one was coming. Something fast ran past me to my left. I jumped away instinctively and saw that it was just a dog. Damn strays. I had heard enough stories of near escapes and even nearer bites from these rabies transport units. Apparently there was a territorial war in progress in the middle of the park to my left. I use the term park liberally; it was more of a sand covered area with a few patches of dry yellow grass and an old swing that made loud screeching noises when it was windy. One had to be very careful while treading this ‘park’ as dog faeces were not the worst thing you could step into there.

The silence of the night was punctuated with loud barks of about a dozen dogs. I liked that. Sometimes the silence around me got so dense that it pressed against my ears, like it was ready to rip my eardrums and flow right through my head. It's like when you dive into a really deep swimming pool. At first you hear the phantasmagorical gurgles of air bubbles that rushed into the water with you, like you were inside of a giant beast. Then the silence increases as you go deeper and so does the pressure until it’s so strong that you cannot bear going further. You start hearing sounds in that silence. Sounds that are not really there. Sounds from your past, from your future. Slow, garbled voices leaking into your brain through your eardrums. Your eyes play tricks on you. You start to see patterns, faces even, in the swirling water around your eyes. All the while the water pushes harder and harder to burst open that barrier and fill you with its crushing silence. You look up and you can see the trees and clouds, sunlight filtering through the surface of the water. But for that moment, you were never really part of that world. You belong to the blue, absolute silence, punctuated by the wails of those that came here before you but never left.

I was almost to my apartment. A left at the corner and fifty meters dead ahead. This patch of road was especially dark. One of the streetlights was out and the moonlight was never enough. From the corner of my eyes, I saw a dark shape moving swiftly across the park to my left, racing towards the road. A dog, mouth lined with white, wet foam, eyes shining red like the devil himself, appeared directly beneath the next streetlight. It paused for a second and looked in my direction, unable to decide whether to keep chasing its invisible prey or try some human tonight. I froze. Slowly, the dog, the big dog, turned towards me and emitted a soft, wet growl. As it turned, the light shone on an open wound on its back. The red of the blood contrasted with its black, shiny coat. The wound was lined with maggots, chewing away the dog while it still breathed. It took slow, deliberate steps towards me, the loose gravel making a crunching sound, moisture escaping its nose condensing immediately on the dust in the air.

My heart was beating hard against my chest. I had read somewhere that dogs can smell fear. This one was probably getting a nose full. I threw my bag at it. I missed. I looked around and saw the road deserted, as usual. I tried to scream but nothing came out. Suddenly, it decided to lunge. I turned and ran. All I heard was the loud fusion music before the car slammed into me and I was engulfed in silence.