| The Morning After by Michelle |
| There was something eerie about the time just after dawn, when the world was bathed in a pale wash of light. Average, ordinary things - buildings, cars, trees � could appear alien during that silent and still period of day. It was quite easy to believe another world existed between dawn and full light. Joe Simmons firmly believed in staying grounded in reality. He was a sensible man of thirty-two, with a sensible haircut and sensible shoes. He refused to lose himself in tricks of the eye and mind, not when his town needed him. And Sunnydale often needed him. He had been a police officer for ten years and a member of the Sunnydale Police Department for five. His father and grandfather had been police officers, and he would never think of abandoning the family legacy of protecting and serving. Even if he had been called out of bed at five in the morning to deal with an �unusual occurrence.� �God. Hard to believe there�s so much damage,� Craig Russell said from the seat next to him. Joe glanced at his partner of a year, careful not to take his eyes off the road for too long. �Weird shit happens here.� �I know, I know. I�ve just never seen an electrical storm do this kind of damage, is all.� There was nothing to say in response, so Joe instead concentrated on driving the patrol car around a small crater in the center of the deserted road. There were several other craters around town, along with deep, wide cracks in the ground. Dark, charred areas seemed to cover both pavement and grass. Some of the buildings in the area surrounding them were in pieces. Half of one building was simply missing, as if it had vanished, and a dark, thick goo dripped from the open crevices. Many of the nearby trees had either been knocked down or uprooted, and several telephone and power lines looked as if they had been snapped in half. It wasn�t everyday an electrical storm happened at the same time as a small earthquake. But if it was going to happen, chances were it would happen in Sunnydale. The town just seemed to attract that type of thing and Joe had stopped being amazed by it a long time ago. �Whoa, what the hell?� Craig said. Out of the corner of his eye, Joe saw his partner shift and lean closer to the windshield. �Since when does Sunnydale have its very own version of the Eiffel Tower?� �What the hell are you talking about?� Craig pointed at something ahead of them. �That tower. I�ve never seen it before. Damn thing musta sprung up overnight.� Bringing the car to a stop, Joe turned his head to the right and looked at what had gotten Craig�s attention. There, in what had been an empty construction site the day before, was a steel tower that was just shy of being a skyscraper. It did resemble the Eiffel Tower, but didn�t look nearly as stable. Joe put the car in park and looked over at Craig. �I guess we should go investigate,� he said as he shut off the engine. His partner nodded and put in a call to the SPD dispatch. �Dispatch,� Craig said into the radio, �this is unit three. We�re code six at an unknown tower at the corner of Kensington and Main.� There was a moment of silence on the radio. �Unknown tower?� dispatch asked, disbelief clear in the voice. �Affirmative.� There was a longer period of silence, followed by, �Acknowledged. Keep us advised.� The two men got out of the patrol car and approached the metal structure, wariness and unease evident in their every step. Joe only spared a brief thought on wondering how much weirder the morning was going to get before focusing on the task at hand. He didn�t want something to happen to him while his mind was wandering. Over his career, he�d seen a large number of strange things. He�d seen unexplainable snake infestations and ritual child murders. He�d seen it snow in the middle of the hottest heat wave on record in California. He�d seen Sunnydale High School right after it had been blown up two years before. He�d even seen, and experienced, a laryngitis outbreak that effected everyone in Sunnydale, but nowhere else. None of that really prepared him for what he saw once they passed the wooden fence surrounding the construction site. Several dozen of people were strewn around the tower; some were unconscious while others were rocking in place. Others still were wandering around, pulling at hair or clothing and muttering to themselves. �. . . Big day over, no more big day. . .� �. . . It�s so dark, the light went out and I can�t see . . .� �. . . The cow told me to do it, but his top hat looked suspicious . . .� Craig let out a low whistle, which broke through the thin veil of shock that had surrounded Joe. �Holy shit. I guess we know where all the crazies went when they escaped the psych ward. What the hell are they doing here?� �How should I know?� Joe said. �That�s for the doctors to figure out.� Sighing, he pressed the button on the radio attached to the shoulder of his uniform. �Dispatch, this is unit three. We found the 918A�s at the tower at Kensington and Main. Transport required.� �Acknowledged,� Dispatch said. �ETA twenty minutes. Stay on scene until notified.� �Acknowledged.� Joe released the radio button and looked around the construction site. �Let�s secure the area,� he said to Craig. They walked slowly around the base of the tower, checking some of the bodies on the ground to see if they were dead or unconscious. The escaped mental patients didn�t seem like they were much of a threat, but the cluster of people Joe noticed off to the right looked suspicious. He tapped Craig on the shoulder and motioned with his head towards the group. With a nod from his partner, they shifted so they were heading in that direction. The cool and detached part of Joe analyzed the scene he approached. All except one appeared to be in their early-to-mid twenties. Standing closest to the police officers was a young man, who holding a reddish-brunette woman who seemed to be covered in cuts. A few feet away from the man stood two women, a dark blonde and a redhead, holding each other. Another man, mid-to-late fifties, stood slightly apart from the rest. Their attention seemed to be focused on a small, blonde woman who lay unmoving on the ground in front of them. The older man turned his head to look at the two police officers. Joe had the feeling the man was looking through him rather then at him. �Who are you?� His voice had a distinct English accent, a rather uncommon thing for Sunnydale. �Police,� Joe said, a hand hovering near his gun. His other hand pointed to the badge attached to his shirt. �What seems to be the trouble?� Craig, his hand also near his gun, walked over to the prone woman and felt the base of her neck for a pulse. The action seemed to snap the redheaded woman out of her trance. �No! Don�t touch her!� she screamed, rushing over to shield the broken body with her own. The woman she had been standing with walked over and placed a reassuring hand on her companion�s shoulder. �She - she�s fine. Just leave her alone. She�ll wake up. She has to.� The two police officers exchanged glances, and Craig told Joe with a slight movement of his head that the blonde woman was dead. �Is everyone else okay?� he asked, hoping to get some kind of coherent response. The woman in the young man�s arms shifted and moaned a little in pain, and he tightened his arms a little, as if to protect her. �No,� he said. He seemed to be struggling to think. �Um, a pile of - uh - bricks fell on Anya. Giles?� The older man jumped and looked at the other man. �What? Oh, um, there � there�s a young man over there,� he said, motioning behind them. �Dead. A-and Spike. He . . .� He looked at his companions, a puzzled expression on his face. �He must have left.� �Sunrise,� the young man said. �Oh, yes. Of course.� Raising his eyebrows, Joe exchanged another look with his partner. Craig shook his head and walked off to check on the other man that had been mentioned. It didn�t seem like he would get any more information, so Joe turned away and placed a call to dispatch. �Dispatch, this is unit three. We�ve got two 11-44�s and several 11-47�s. Ambulance requested.� �Acknowledged. ETA ten minutes,� Dispatch said. �Is it a code one?� �Negative. Scene is secure.� There was a moment of silence. �Acknowledged. Stay on scene until notified.� �Acknowledged.� Joe turned back to the group and looked at them again. He couldn�t shake the feeling that something important had happened, something huge. There was no logical explanation for this feeling; people died everyday. How could the blonde woman be so different from the others? Yet the inner voice that every cop trusted told him the fate of Sunnydale, if not the world, would be changed forever because of what had occurred where he now stood. With a deep sigh, he settled in to wait for the ambulances, transports, and further orders. Maybe, if he was lucky, he would get a logical explanation, but he seriously doubted it. A quick breakdown of the police codes I used (I�m not sure if they�re completely accurate, but I did do some research on them so I�m not just making them up): Code six � out of car to investigate 918A � escaped mental patient 11-44 � possible fatality 11-47 � injured person Code one � need backup quickly Back to the archive |