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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1474766-Thunderstorm
Rated: 13+ · Other · Other · #1474766
Chapter 1.
It was nearing the closing time. There was nothing left except that last bottle of water, the shop having been ravaged by the mob. Thunder could be heard in the distance. And there she was, at the same distance of the bottle as I, the same determined expression on her face. We both wanted it, we both knew it.

The lightning marked the beginning, we both started running, possessed by one purpose. There was nothing else in our world but that bottle, or so I thought. But I realized that she was pulling a shopping cart full of merchandise while I had left mine at the begining of the aisle confident that I would be faster that way. And she realized too that she was going to lose. Then the dirty tricks began. First it was an innocent pack of oranges, then ice cream followed by milk. Soon I found myself under a heavy bombardment of frozen beans.

But I was determined, and I was faster. I arrived at the bottle just a second before she, extended my arm, flexed my fingers around the plastic body and closed them in a firm grip... which caught only air. With an inhuman expression on her face, she had hit the bottle with an apple placing it out of my reach.

I lost my balance and ended up on the floor while she caught the precious bottle of pristine water, a triumphant but murderous expression on her face. She looked my way, a malicious smile on her lips, then looked at the beginning of the aisle and the smile turned into laughter. And she left roaring, with the last piece on her hand, out of my sight.

Confused, I looked for my cart, but found nothing. My pride, so hateful at that time, had cost me not only a bottle of water but the rest of my things too.

A flash of light bathed the supermarket, the storm was coming. I could hear thunder not far, followed by the answer of my empty stomach.

I don't know how long I stayed there, a single customer sitting in the dirty floor. When I stood up I saw the relief in the faces of the supermarket employees, who, as soon as I left, closed the establishment and prepared to leave for their homes. I looked up to the black clouds, the storm was coming.

The parking was empty, as well as the area around. No one in his sane mind would roam the streets at this time. But I have been called many things in my life, none of them was sane. I fought against the great wind advancing slowly towards my car which stood there as a beacon amidst the storm.

I did not go directly home, instead I decided to roam the streets. Desolation was what I found all over the city. It was unusually strange, for it was nothing more than a especially strong storm. Emptiness, a ghost town was all I could see. And there, shaking under a mailbox I saw a small dog. My first thought was of compassion which turned into anger. How could someone have abandoned a dog in such a place? My knuckles white from the strong grip in the wheel I turned around. When I approached the poor animal was trembling in fear. I took a careful step, trying to soothe him with words. It was in vain. The dog started running. Suddenly a strong wind smashed him against a wall. The puppy lied there, immobile. I didn't have much time, the weather was worsening, so I decided to take him with me.

At some point it began to rain, soon I was barely able to drive. It was then, when I decided to go back home.

My humble abode was in a quiet neighbourhood. I had been living there since my wedding day twenty-some years before. I remembered how everyone welcomed us that first day. Those were the best years of my life. That was in the past, however. My wife was no longer with me and there were no children so I was alone, spending my days in solitude.

I arrived home dripping wet. The stall smell of rancid food, alcohol and smoke welcomed me. I placed the dog in a table and looked after his wounds. Fortunately it wasn't anything serious and soon he was looking around the house, sniffing everything.

A thunder shook the house from its foundations. I didn't have to wait long. The storm was here. Unnerved, I turned on the T.V. knowing that sooner or later electricity would go out.

“ … terrible storm that formed originally at forty miles from the coast has  ...”, of course every channel was full of information about the meteorological phenomenon, and every one of those so called specialists spoke as if he knew what he was talking about. Fools feeling important for once in their pathetic lives. “ … there is nothing left from the first coastal town, not a single building standing. The government estimates there are more than ten thousand deaths and more than a hundred thousand injured. President … “. I begun to worry about the safety of my home, the sound of thunder was increasing every second. Perhaps today was finally the day. I sat down with a bottle of my finest vodka, the one I had been reserving for this very moment. The dog forgotten, I waited for death to come.

I heard a yield outside my door after a couple of glasses. I ignored it, I wanted to die alone. The voice yield again and I could understand my name. Whoever it was, would not leave me alone. Again a voice. what does have a man to do to be left alone? Furious I took one of the guns I had all around the house and approached the damned door. When I saw through a window who was at the other side I nearly passed out. The army! Here, in my house!

I placed the gun where I could reach it if I needed to. For what it was worth, I didn't have any problem in killing someone. I opened the door a few inches. Suddenly a hand grabbed it and opened it with great force. Two men stood at the entrance guns ready.

'Dr. Murray? Dr. Charles Murray?', one of the soldiers asked. I got up and looked at them. It would do no good to try to send them away. They obviously wanted to take my with them, whatever means necessary. I wondered why. 'That would be me, gentlemen', I answered. They seemed careless, but they eyes were scanning the whole room while we spoke. 'You have to accompany us, sir. You are to be escorted to Army Research Facility A7'.

I froze in surprise. That facility brought many disturbing memories. 'Why gentlemen, I thought you had Peter Stevenson there. At least, you expelled me and gave him my research'. I spat. I threw my glass to the one nearest, then tried to reach for the gun. The bastard was surprisingly quick, he evaded the glass and had a hand around my neck before I realized it. 'Please, sir. You have to come with us. The do not intend to harm you'.

I turned red. 'Go to hell. Ask Stevenson for help'. I tried in vain to free myself. The grip around my neck strengthened. 'Sir, Dr Stevenson is dead. A lighting caught him'. I stopped struggling. This  set off an alarm in my head. In made curious too. 'Where was he?'.

Seeing that I wasn't fighting anymore, the soldier released me. 'He was in the street, at the city'.
I snorted. 'Are you telling me that a lightning struck him while he was surrounded by the highest buildings in the area?'.

The soldier grabbed my arm and pushed me gently to the door. 'Yes, sir. That's why we need your help'. In that instant the puppy appeared. I took my chance to make their lives a bit more difficult. 'All right, I'll go. But only, if we take him', I knelt to catch the dog. But a hand was already there. How could a man be so fast? 'Very well, sir. Please come with us'.

This was most interesting. After ten years, the army requested my services precisely when the worst storm in History had struck. This would prove entertaining.

Without looking inside I closed the door and departed for the most eventful times of my life.
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