Dead Winter: A gripping crime thriller full of suspense (2 page)

Chapter Two
 
24 Hours Later

First Day (21st December – 7:27AM)

Dawn broke.

Faint rays of sunlight crept dimly through the stirring city completely unnoticed, the overwhelming silence carried on for a couple of minutes before it was ended by a hasty dawn chorus that echoed through the streets.

Several cars sped past the apartment complex, completely shattering the silence; the siren of an ambulance wailed from somewhere in the distance.

Just the everyday sounds of the city.

The thin winter morning mist cleared slightly as a dull, piercing thud cut through the din of a normally noisy city. Glass shattered, but this sound was nothing compared to the roar of an explosion which shook the main building, drowning out the sound of glass shards tinkering on the floor.

A light crackling sound became audible as fire flooded through the ground-floor, triggering a second explosion that shook the complex down to its foundation columns. A single scream added the finishing blow to the silence.

It was then that I jerked awake, having seemingly rolled off of the sofa I had fallen asleep on.

Pharmaceutical dreams.

After climbing to my feet, I switched the kettle on and pulled a mug from the cupboard and waited.

Coffee, the saviour of mankind.

Rubbing the sleep from my tired and aching eyes, I glanced up to the clock on the kitchen wall. 7:32AM.

"Well these pills are certainly working." I muttered to myself, pouring water into my mug as the kettle finished boiling. "Maybe working a little too much." I concluded, considering the fact that I had just slept for about twenty-four hours.

Sipping at the coffee I had made, I downed a couple of painkillers to ease the headache I had gained from sleeping too long. I'd always gotten headaches when I overslept.

Ceramic-white ibuprofen, 200mg.

Propping myself up with my arm, I sat back down on the sofa and picked up the television remote from the disaster-zone of a coffee table. The television was an old CRT that my father had given me when I left for the city. Cheapskate.

I sipped at the concoction of coffee, milk and sugar. Coffee had always looked a bit like muddy water to me, tasted like it too until I was around 15. I guess it's an acquired taste. I'd rather be drinking an energy drink.

The television made a strange crackling sound as a spark shone brightly from behind the screen. The screen switched on for a second.

"There's reports of panic in the stree-" the news-anchor said briefly before the television began making strange sounds, and the screen warped and cracked. Smoke wafted from the back of the unit. I could vaguely make out the voice of the news-anchor, but understood none of it. I switched the television off and muttered in irritation.

What a load of old junk.

The television had never worked properly to begin with, it constantly changed its own volume and the picture constantly went in and out of focus. It wasn't very reliable, perhaps it would have been better left with father. They were quite alike in certain ways.

Holy shit.

The ground shook beneath me, like an earthquake as a third explosion tore through the building, knocking me to my feet. A couple of the papers on top of the television fell to the ground.

This was the first I'd known about the disaster unfolding below me.

Picking up the coffee mug which had fallen from the table during the shake, I made my way over to the balcony doors and placed it on top of the television unit before swinging the doors open.

Prepare to evacuate soul in five..

The morning light hit my eyes like a freight-train, the sight that fell upon my tired eyes made that bright light seem like a better option. A thick, harsh stench of smoke rushed through my nostrils as I inhaled.

The street below me was a haze of smoke, which complimented the morning mist in a strange, unnerving way.

Four..

The sight of a fuel tanker loomed into view as the smoke lifted. It lay on its side, the underside exposed to the four winds.

Three..

Fire surrounded the tanker, letting out a thick smoke that was the cause of the strange mist. I noticed a small red object next to the tanker. There had clearly been a collision. The flames licked at the car and moved underneath it in a snake-like, fluid motion.

Two..

The next step was pretty obvious, and yet I wasn't quite prepared for it. A thunderous clap of ear-splitting sound shook the buildings around the two vehicles as they exploded, transforming them into a disaster-zone of charred metal and burning rubber. I peered down over the balcony as the smoke came into view.

One.

In five panic-filled seconds, a large gust of wind swept through my apartment, making the blinds swing wildly. They knocked the coffee mug over and to my surprise, the television unit switched back on. The screen completely shattered and smoke billowed out of the back.

The papers on top somehow caught fire and soared to the ground, setting fire to the curtains and blinds. A page landed on my desk, setting light to a stack of assignment papers, quickly turning my apartment into a fire-filled disaster-zone.

Adrenaline pumped vigorously through my veins as I reached for my bag, quickly throwing its contents onto the floor. I grabbed anything I could find; drinks, crisps, the lighter.

Swinging my bag over my shoulder, I turned around to face the fire as the wind caught the blinds, sending burning material flying across the apartment. The flaming pieces landed underneath another set of blinds, setting them alight. I should have bought the aluminium venetians.

A section of the blinds fell from the rest, landing on top of a deodorant can. A high-pitched whistle became audible.

"Oh please, no.." I whispered as the can burst into flame and ignited the papers I had dumped from my bag. The fire crept across the floor, licking at the underside of the couch as it too became combustible.

The fire chased me across the room as I shoved the rest of my necessities into the bag; my phone, wallet and butterfly knife as the fire made its way over to the kitchen.

On my way over to the door, I tripped on a loose wire and the keys for my door went flying across the floor. Smoke had already filled the room as everything went up in a cacophony of fire and smoke, even parts of the carpet had caught fire.

Gasping for air as the smoke tore at my lungs, I groaned loudly and picked myself up from the floor with haste.

Sickly pain shot through my shoulder-line as I rammed the locked door and bounced straight off, having only created a small dent in the middle.

Hearing another high-pitched whistle, I turned around as my liquor somehow exploded, sending liquid fire flying across the kitchen and into my bedroom.

Oxygen-deprived, I rammed with every ounce of strength in my body at the door for one last try. To my delight, it gave way, cracks forming around the frame as it dislodged from the hinges and swung open at the same time, sending me flying into the corridor.

Thud.

No sooner than I had regained my balance, it was crushed by another explosion which tore through the lower floors and took out the electricity. The lights cut out almost instantly as a colossal sound came from behind me; my apartment disappeared from sight as the roof caved-in, sending massive chunks of concrete and personal belongings coursing down into the apartment like hail. The floor must have given way as my apartment too sunk into the one below it.

Shaking my oxygen-deprived head a few times, I began to stagger down the corridor, endless as it seemed from my perspective; stretching out into infinity. No sooner than I began to think like this, the end of the corridor was in front of me and I was forced to turn the corner. An elevator was the first thing my tired eyes noticed.

As I walked towards it, the floor beneath me vibrated constantly as other sections of the building gave way into each other, triggering explosions that would make the next section give way like some form of twisted chemical reaction.

They say that you should never use a lift during a fire, but I don't think I'd been paying attention during that lesson.

Oxygen slowly filled my lungs again and the dizziness ceased, I walked with haste over to the elevator. My delusions that the elevator would somehow work as if by magic were cut short as I tapped madly on the down button. But to no avail, the elevator doors stood motionless, I'd forgotten that the power was out. I kicked at the thick, metal doors and swore in agony as pain splintered through my foot.

"Fuck!" I shouted, immediately regretting my decision to kick the door, pain still coursing through my foot like the electrical-current this building lacked.

Ladies and Gentlemen, the human battery.

A woman came into view at the other end of the corridor. Clutching at my foot and hopping, the woman walked towards me as though in a trance, completely unaware of the concrete dust falling from the ceiling above her.

My voice finally reached her as I shouted words of caution in regards to the ceiling above her, which cracked loudly. Her face was struck with pure fear, smeared with dirt and ash. She couldn't have been any older than thirty.

I stepped forwards towards her, but immediately leaped back as the ceiling cracked more and water spewed from the fissures, the ceiling gave way, propelling a large chunk of concrete down onto the woman, who screamed as the floor beneath her gave way too.

Then, silence. I didn't even need to look to know she was dead, sandwiched between two sections of heavy concrete. If that didn't kill her, the corner of the table going through the back of her head did.

All sight of the woman was lost in a spray of water and dust. Stumbling backwards in shock of what I had just witnessed, a beeping sound issued from behind me, the elevator that had previously been out of service opened with a ding, the back-up generator must have activated.

My mouth hung agape as I stared at the open elevator, my mind wandered for a moment, trying to calculate what the odds were of this actually happening. I decided to leave it to chance and dashed into the elevator, hitting the ground-floor button, blissfully unaware that the ground-floor was a mess of fire and molten plastic.

I slumped against the wall of the elevator as it shakily made it's way down the shaft, feeling sick as the events that had unfolded played back in my head.

What kind of sick nightmare was this? Was I dreaming?

Every aspect of the events that had unraveled today seemed so realistic, should I pinch myself to see if I would awaken? What had become of the people I knew in the building? Had they met the same fate as the woman in the corridor? I wonder...

My internal monologue was cut short by the elevator stopping suddenly, the doors slid open and all the lights went out again. But this was the third floor. All the lights on this floor were out and dark shadows had crept their way across the walls like snakes in grass.

The silence around me was short-lived as it was brutally shattered by the echoing sound of stone and concrete hammering against each other, as though each floor above and below me was caving in from the extensive damage they were receiving. I know that if I stayed in this death-trap for much longer, I would meet my end.

The fear of death hit me as though I had been punched in the face, I lost myself in a trance as I walked towards the only light in the corridor; which was coming from a room on fire at the other end. I stalked the light, wishing only to be free from this death trap.

As I walked through the room, I was quickly knocked back to my senses as I noticed an aging man laid across the floor, crushed under the rubble that had been sent tumbling down from the floor above, the stench of blood mingled with the smoke stuck in my throat.

I wanted to be sick, to purge this 'disease' from my lungs.

Backing out of the room in horror, I noticed the staircase to the second floor down the next corridor; the ceiling and floor next to the elevator caved in, blocking the way back. I dashed towards the staircase but was stopped near instantaneously by the intense heat of the fire that raged below the staircase, or what remained of it.