144 Hour Descendance
Water slowly dripped down from a pipe onto Amber’s face, rolling from her forehead to her cheek and down to her chin, where it dripped again to the floor. Another liquid dripped down her cheek to join the ceiling water on her chin, this one thick and red. A third, a tear, formed in Amber’s eye and rolled down. The gash where the blood was emerging stung as the salty tear passed over it. Her watery eyes broke from their transfixed stare at the floor and looked to the small window across from her. It was dark now, but she could still make out the faint glow of flame from the tattered city.
“Mom…” her tiny and dry voice tried to squeak out, “Dad…” But she knew her parents couldn’t hear her, not anymore. Hopefully no one could hear her. Her silence was all she had left to survive.
As Amber stared into the inferno outside, she thought back to her life before she journeyed into and through hell. Her eyes grew weary and began to close as she drifted into unconsciousness. Her last thoughts were of the previous week, how it took only 144 hours for the world to become alien to her.
…
Descendance began on Sunday. Amber woke up to sunlight streaming through her window and the smell of bacon from downstairs. Leaping out of bed, she flew down the long spiral of stairs to the kitchen, where her mom was chatting up a storm on the phone as bacon sizzled on the stove behind her. “Good morning, Mom!” exclaimed Amber, smiling up at her. Her mom smiled back and hugged her head, continuing to talk on the phone. Amber didn’t understand what she was saying, something about the President, so she asked. “Oh nothing, honey,” smiled her mom again, “go sit on the couch and I’ll bring you your food.” Amber listened and went to the couch, leaping on it and turning on the TV mounted on the wall. It flashed on, revealing a news anchor and a flashy, eye-catching headline – “President War?”
“Mom,” called Amber, “who’s President War?” Her mom came walking out with breakfast, this time without her phone. “I don’t know,” she said, handing the plate to Amber and turning towards the TV. She face darkened as the screen flashed to a map of the United States, showing little animated planes and boats darting around it. Amber became worried. “Mom?”
At her words, her mom seemed to remember where she was and turned back to Amber. “Oh, you don’t want to watch this!” she laughed, quickly grabbing the remote and changing the channel. An old kids’ movie appeared on the screen. “There!” She placed the remote on the coffee table a few feet away, kissed Amber on the head, and walked back into the kitchen. A few moments later, she was talking on the phone again in a more hushed tone. Puzzled, Amber turned down the volume on the TV and tried to listen to what her mom was saying. “I know, I just saw the TV,” she heard her mom nearly whispering, “I’ll pack some stuff and leave it in my room, just in case. I don’t know when we might have to evacuate.” Confused but not wanting to ask any more questions right now, Amber let it go and turned up the movie again.
The next few days were largely uneventful for her, with the occasional group of teachers mumbling together at school. Amber went about her normal daily routine, not thinking about what had happening Sunday morning. On Wednesday afternoon, she was sitting in her classroom with her friends when the principal came over the loudspeaker. “All third and fourth grade students and teachers, please report to the gymnasium,” the announcement echoed. Wondering what the surprise meeting was about, Amber and her friends rushed down the hallway with her classmates. “Maybe we’re going on a field trip!” said one of her closest friends, Paula. “If we were having a field trip, why would they have a huge meeting about it?” asked Kerrie, another. As they entered the gym, Amber looked around at the teachers guiding other classes to their seats. They all looked grim and concentrated, as if it was taking all of their willpower to not look terrified. One teacher was shaking, another, unable to control himself, was crying. “This is serious,” whispered Amber to her friends as they sat down on the floor.
Once everyone was seated, the principal walked to the front of the crowd and waited for the kids to quiet down. He was smiling, but Amber could tell it was forced – his lips formed a smile, but his eyes were full of fear. His face was as grey as stone. The principal took a deep breath and began to speak.
“Thank you all for coming.” His voice was light but shaky. “I guess I’ll cut right to the chase.” A hint of the fear in his eyes flashed on his grey face. He massaged his hands and paced for a few steps, as if he was giving a speech to more than just elementary students. Finally, he rooted himself in one spot and looked straight at the audience. “This morning, enemy countries declared war on the United States and its allies. They plan to launch an invasion against us.” Confused child eyes greeted his fearful ones. Allies? Invade? They didn’t know these words. “For those of you who don’t know, our country has many enemies, other countries who don’t like us. Us and these other countries have been arguing a lot, and these arguments have become so bad that we’ve begun fighting. And our enemies are going for the first punch.”
Things began clicking rapidly in Amber’s mind – the news on Sunday, her mom’s weird behavior, the murmuring teachers. Her heart pounded and she began to look around the room to see her peers’ reactions. Some still looked confused. A few were smiling and laughing, making gun and explosions movements with their hands. Most looked stunned, lost somewhere between comprehension and understanding, unable to properly react. She turned around again to look at the principal.
“We don’t know exactly where they are planning to attack us, probably cities near the oceans and places where a lot of people live. There, they’d gain the most casualties.” Casualty – another word Amber didn’t know. “Because of this threat, we are temporarily closing school, and will remain closed under further notice.” He looked at the teachers. “Buses are on their way to take everyone home. Teachers, please keep your students in their classrooms until dismissal is announced over the loudspeaker.” He looked back at the kids, smiling but shaking with fear. “I hope to see everyone soon. Be safe.”
Thursday and Friday were the slowest days of Amber’s life. She sat in her room, doing nothing but play with toys and read books. Her parents had banned her from the living room, where the news was playing a twenty-four-hour segment on the war each day. Amber asked them on Wednesday afternoon about the war, specifically who the other countries they were now fighting were, and why it was all happening. They tried to explain, something about a resource called oil, and how their country, the United States, was picking on smaller countries in hopes to get their oil. Amber still didn’t understand, though. Why would the US steal other countries’ oil? Stealing is wrong, and aren’t we supposed to be the good guys? Wrapping her ten-year-old head around it hurt more than it helped, so Amber decided not to think much about it.
On Friday night, Amber’s family was eating dinner together for the first time in months. Her dad usually worked late hours each day, but with the looming war his office had closed down, along with everything else in the city. They sat quietly, unable to think of anything to say. The TV from the living room played in the background, broadcasting information about the ongoing Battle of Los Angeles. “Enemy bombers have been striking the city since this morning, and some missiles have been fired from battleships off the Californian coast. Though no landing parties have been sighted, a recent pull-back of bombers suggests that a ground invasion is imminent.” Amber tuned it out and went back to playing with her food.
After a few more minutes of silence, her dad spoke up. “Amber, have you heard from any of your friends?”
“Paula is leaving tomorrow morning to go to her aunt’s house in Washington. It’s out in the woods near Canada, so they think it’ll be safe.” Amber twirled her potatoes with her fork. “Kerrie flew out on Thursday for Oklahoma.” She looked up and saw her mom giving her dad a stern look. Her dad met it before sighing. “Alright,” he said while placing silverware on the table with a strange finality. “Amber, we think that we should leave too. Your mom and I have been talking, and we think it’ll be best if we temporarily go to Wisconsin until the coast is clear.” His face looked pained, as if it hurt for him to talk. “We’re leaving early tomorrow morning to begin our drive there.” Amber tried to say something, but nothing came out. Even though she knew everything that was happening, the reality of it all hadn’t hit her until now. She was in shock, realizing that her family was having to abandon their home and flee their city. The illusion of her safe life was shattering within her mind as she struggled to grip this reality.
Her dad tried to make eye contact. “Are you okay?”
Amber suddenly jumped up. “I’m going to go pack,” she said quickly before bounding towards the stairs. Each step felt like a thousand feet higher than the last, and she felt as though she would faint and tumble to the floor far below with each leap. She finally reached the peak and stumbled into her room, collapsing immediately onto her bed. Soft blankets consumed her as she desperately tried to block out reality. Tears grew into heavy sobs and violent shaking as reality pushed past the blankets and tore into her mind. She wanted the softness of the blankets to consume her, to make her feel better, to protect her, to take her back to Sunday morning before she got out of bed. Before she knew the real world. But deep down, she knew it was too late. She had met reality, and there was no way she could forget it.
There was knocking on her door. “Amber?” Her dad slowly pushed open the door and entered her daughter’s last haven. He gently sat next to her trembling body and put his hand on her shoulder. “What a stupid question,” he laughed softly and grimly, “‘Are you okay?’ Of course you aren’t.” He looked down at her. “Hey.” He gently pushed away her hair from her face. “We’re going to get through this together, okay? We’re leaving first thing tomorrow and we’re going somewhere safe. Together. We’re a family, and families stay together no matter what.”
Amber opened her flooded eyes and looked at her father, tears streaming down her face. “Wh-why are they doing th-this?” she stammered, “wh-why us?”
“I don’t know.” Her father looked solemn as he looked at her. Her eyes seemed deep and sad, as if he was looking at more than just her. He was looking at her future being snatched away from her. “I don’t think anyone knows,” he continued, “our governments have ambitions of their own, and they don’t seem concerned about us or what they’re doing to this planet. The ironic thing is that we’re the ones suffering because of it/” He looked out the window as the lights of helicopters streaked through the dark sky over the neighborhood. “The best thing we can do right now is stay together and get to safety.” Amber sat up and tightly hugged him, and her dad held her back. They embraced in silence for a few moments, breathing in sync. Finally, her father whispered, “no matter what happens, we’ll stick together, okay? It’ll all be okay.” Amber hugged him tighter, closing her eyes. Her dad did not.
Suddenly, they heard someone sprinting up the stairs. They turned towards the door and Amber’s mom burst into the room. She looked between the two of them, her eyes bulging with terror. She settled on Amber’s father. “Come downstairs. TV, now.” Amber’s dad let go of her and ran downstairs with her mom. Amber looked out the window and saw more helicopters fly over, headed towards the harbor. Peering into the distance, she saw small flickers of light in the sky over the Golden Gate Bridge. Realizing what it was, she stumbled off of her bed and sprinted downstairs to her parents. She found them staring at the TV, which was broadcasting a live news feed of the San Francisco harbor. Enemy bombers filled the air as US fighters attempted to ward them off, and helicopters were dropping off solders at various defensive points. The screen flashed to the Golden Gate Bridge, which had tanks set up facing out towards the water. The camera panned out to the ocean, and what Amber saw chilled her to the bone. Dozens of battleships filled the water, and smaller landing parties were flying towards the shore. The tanks on the bridge began firing at them, taking out one landing party. One of the baster boats responded with a rocket that hit one of the supports of the bridge, leaving a nasty gash in it. A news anchor’s voice came over the footage. “In case you are just joining us, it appears as though a surprise invasion is being launched on San Francisco. It has been reported that numerous enemy battleships are heading towards the city, with an invasion force coming ahead of it. Bombers are attacking the downtown area in an attempt to hurt resistance.” The broadcast suddenly cut out, replaced with the warning siren of the Emergency Alert System. Somewhere, a blast sent a shockwave that shook their house.
“We have to get out of here, NOW!” Amber’s dad shouted, grabbing Amber and her mother and pulling them towards the door. “But all our stuff…” Amber tried resisting, but her dad pulled her tighter. “There’s no time! We have to get out of the city before it’s shut down, come on!” They ran out the door to their car and flung themselves inside it. Her dad started the car, put it in reverse, and blasted out of the driveway. “We have to find a way out of the city before the shut down the roads!” he yelled, speeding down their street. Amber looked out and saw other families dashing out of their houses to their care, and soon a whole pack of vehicles was following theirs. Amber couldn’t see the harbor from there they were, but she could her distant bangs echoing through the night.
All of the sudden, a deafening roar exploded over their car. Amber looked up and saw three low-flying bombers race over them. “Why the hell are there bombers over here?!” cried her mom.
“They must be trying to stop people from leaving the city and soldiers from entering!” yelled her dad, “we have to get out of here before they fly back around!” He pressed down hard on the gas as the car lurched forward and sped ahead. The cars behind them followed suit. On a turn, Amber looked back at the cars to catch a glimpse of their followers. “Mom, Dad!” she called, “I think I see Paula’s car!”
“Good, we can escape together,” her dad said. Amber was relieved that her friend would be with her through this. She looked out the back of the car again, hoping to catch a glimpse of her friend. Suddenly, her slammed hard on the breaks, throwing Amber backwards into her seat. Her dad cursed. “The highway is jammed.” Amber picked herself up from the car floor and peered out the front where her dad was pointing. A long line of unmoving cards blocked the entrance onto the highway. She guessed the line stretched for miles. “Everyone’s trying to flee the city,” her mom said, her voice trembling slightly.
“Getting stuck like that is a deathtrap,” grumbled her dad, “the bombers can come and blow the entire highway up with those many cars backed up. We have to find another way.” He pressed down on the gas again and took off down a side street, signaling to the other cars to follow him. “I think there are some back roads nearby that can lead away from the city,” he said, “it’ll be out of the way, but once we get far enough away, we can figure out where to go.”
They drove for about ten minutes down the road, passing through neighborhoods packed with fleeing residents. A few houses were on fire, possibly to prevent the enemy from taking advantage of supplies in them. Amber looked out to the people outside and watched their panicked states as they shoved everything they could into their cars. She saw one little boy, and for an instant their stares met. He looked a littler younger than her, maybe six, but the expression on his face looked forty years older. It was of dead seriousness, without any sense of childhood left in it. His eyes seemed to be rapidly aging as his innocent world was burned down around him. Amber could only assume she looked the same to him.
After another five minutes or so, her father turned right onto a street going up a hill. “We should be able to see the city from the top,” he said. Amber wasn’t sure she wanted to. When they reached the summit of the hill, they pulled over to the side of the road. Her dad got out of the car to signal to others to pull over as well. He turned back to his family. “We’ll stop here for just a minute; I want to figure out what we’re all doing.” Her mom nodded and got out as well, beckoning for Amber to follow suit. As she got out, Amber looked around for Paula’s car. She spotted it further down the street and immediately sprinted towards it. “Paula!” she cried out. Paula climbed out of her car with a look of surprise and ran towards Amber. “Amber! I didn’t know that was your car in front!” she said as the two friends hugged each other tightly, “I’m so happy we’re together!”
“Me too. We can leave together. My dad said he’s going to try to figure out what to do with everyone else here.” They both turned to Amber’s dad, who was talking with two other adults from other cars. Paula turned her head and suddenly gasped. “Oh my god…” she said in nearly a whisper, walking forward.
“What?” asked Amber, puzzled. Then she met Paula’s stare.
San Francisco was below them, small in the distance but large and illuminated enough to make out what was happening. The small bursts of light, like erratic fireflies, were more rapid than ever, and they could make out the faint orange and yellow glow of fire seemingly engulfing the downtown area. The Golden Gate bridge was gone. Battleships were pouring into the harbor under an eerily smoky haze. The air battle over the city did not seem to be letting up. Shocked and frightened, the girls ran over to their parents. “Dad, Mom…” Amber’s voice cracked as she pointed out at the city. Her mom gasped, and her dad aged ten years.
Before they could say anything, the deafening roar of bombers burst over them again, headed right for where they just came. Amber spotted them, and her eyes traced their path. Oh no… she thought, they’re going to hit the –
Her mind was suddenly wiped blank as bombs rained down from their bombers right over the highway. A large flash of light blinded them, and a few seconds later, a bone-shattering force shook the ground. “There goes the highway,” said a gruff-sounding man behind her. “All those people…” whispered Amber’s mom. Paula grabbed Amber’s hand and squeezed tightly. At the same time, Amber noticed the sound of helicopter blades behind them. She quickly wheeled around and saw three black helicopters descending down from the darkness of the starless night. “Are those ours?” asked a woman next to Amber nervously. “They have to be, there’s no way the enemy could have gotten this far from the city yet,” said her dad, but his tone indicated the exact opposite. As the front of the helicopter descended, Amber frantically looked for some sort of insignia, anything that indicated ownership. Looking closely, she spotted a flag right on the helicopter’s nose. Terror instantly consumed every part of her. “IT’S THEM!”
A rocket from one of the helicopters exploded in front of them, knocking everyone back like ragdolls.
“RUN!” roared Amber’s dad, grabbing Amber and her mom and pulling them to the sidewalk. Amber tripped on the curb and fell onto the ground, smashing her face into the concrete and opening a gash in her cheek. White noise rang in her ears as she turned over in a daze. Lights flickered in front of her eyes like fireflies, but through the buzzing she could make one of the helicopters now leveling out and descending. Ropes were thrown out from either side as solders slid down them. The ringing in her head was cut apart with her father bellowing, “COME ON, AMBER!” He pulled her up, and gunfire erupted around them.
The people from their convoy dropped to the ground in sickening thuds and cracks. As her family ran, the helicopters ascended again and began to circle the street like vultures. Amber and her parents ran inside the closest building, a small storage room, and slammed the door shut. “Amber, hide,” ordered her father, his tone ominous. He then grabbed his wife. “Help me barricade the door,” he said. Amber crawled over to corner nearby a small window facing the street. Peeking out just slightly, she watched as the soldiers took up positions around the street, looking for other civilians. Horror clutched her heart when she saw a little girl hiding across from her in an alley, peeking out behind a garbage can to see the soldiers as well. It was Paula.
“Don’t move, Paula,” whispered Amber, “hide.” Paula leaned further out, peering down the street desperately. Then she ran, leaping from her hiding spot and kicking the trash can loudly as she moved. A soldier between her and Amber turned around and, without hesitation, raised his gun and fired. Paula fell dead on the sidewalk.
All Amber could do was scream. Scream and sob as hysterical terror suffocated her. Her mom grabbed her and tried to quiet her, calm her and muffle her. Her dad glanced out the window and cursed. Footsteps were approaching them. Her dad looked around desperately before sprinting and grabbing a yardstick. He turned towards his family, his eyes blazing. “Both of you, run and hide. Now.” Her mom began to protest, but he cut her off immediately. “GO, NOW!” Her father grabbed them and pushed them towards a back door. He then ran back and pressed his back against the wall toward which the front door would open, his yardstick held high. “Come on, Amber,” her mom said, her voice cracking. She opened the back door and pushed Amber through it. As the door closed behind them, Amber stole one last look at her father and the tear rolling down his cheek.
Her mom barricaded the door with a table and ran over to a window, opening it. “Through here, Amber.” She could barely hear her. Her mind was blind and deaf and numb, and her eyes stared blankly at the door. “Amber, please,” pleaded her mom through the numbness. She took Amber’s hand and led her to the window, picking her up and hoisting her through it. Outside was an abandoned street across from a park. Gunfire echoed from the front room. Amber awoke from her daze and saw her mom’s soul die, her face turning grey. She looked at her daughter, her eyes extinguished. “I need you to run, Amber.”
“What?” Amber looked into her mom’s stone-cold eyes, tears welling up in her own. “No, you’re coming with me!”
“I can’t keep up; I’ll only slow you down. You need to run, now!” Her mom looked back at the door. “They’ll be here any second. GO!” Her perish scream startled Amber, who backed away, frightened. “GO NOW! NOW!” she screamed louder and more lifeless, pushing her daughter back with her bellows before slamming the window shut between them. With no other choice, Amber turned and ran, crossing the street and darting into the park. Gunfire echoed behind her.
She ran half blind through the park, unconcerned with exactly where she was running. She saw a row of bushes in front of her and ducked behind them to catch her breath. She looked back toward the building, but saw no soldiers following her. They must have thought my scream was Mom, she thought. Her heart dropped like a bomb to her feet. “Mom…” A dam behind her eyes broke as she collapsed on the cool grass and sobbed. Paula… Dad… Mom… all those innocent people… Amber’s mind flatlined. Sorrow and terror was enclosing upon her as fear kept her pinned to the ground, shaking. She lay there for what could have been an eternity. It did not matter anymore; what was time without a world for it to dictate? Amber’s world was gone, and time seemed as lost as her family now was.
But eventually, the flood from the dam leveled out. As she lay there, sniffing and shaking from her fright, a gentle but brisk breeze floated against her. Her skin tensed up as the air seemed to awaken her mind slightly, blowing away an ounce of the weight of damning last images. As her breathing steadied from shallow rasps to deep, shaky sighs, one thought crept into her head. I have to get out of here. She struggled against the remaining weight upon her. “I have to get out of here…” she whispered to herself, her voice dry and cracked. Slowly she stood up, her legs weak but holding firm against her terror. She looked around and saw another street on the other end of the park. It seemed to head out towards a dark, flat field. With no other way to turn, she began to follow it.
Amber walked for about an hour, mindless and shaking as the cold rattled out more of her dread. The dark night sky glittered above her, and a few times she stopped to stare at it, memorized and unblinking, until a distant bang lit up the horizon behind her and brought her back to consciousness. As she stumbled along the road, she didn’t care where she was going. All that mattered was following the street away from the city and that storage building, the building where her parents – no. She discontinued the thought. There’s no way, she thought, it’s not possible. There’s no way that that happened. They’re just a little delayed, that’s all. “I’ll see them soon,” she croaked, another tear falling from her eye. She looked up and noticed a small house a little down the road from her. The lights were out, and no car was in the driveway. I can hide out here until morning. Amber approached the front door as another bright light lit up the backdrop behind her. Refusing to look back, she opened the door and walked inside.
The house was pitch black, but she could make out a door immediately on her right. Closing the front door behind her, she opened the other and followed the stairs down to a basement. It was cement and entirely empty, with water slowly leaking from a rusted pipe above. Amber dragged herself towards the wall under the pipe and slumped against it, sliding to the cold, hard floor. She looked up and found a window facing her, the faint glow of the city’s remnants emanating through it. She averted her eyes and, instead, stared blankly at the grey floor. Her body felt cold as numbness returned to her, and her mind seemed to be moving as fast as a snail. She barely noticed the water dripping onto her face, or the sting from the gash on her cheek. All she could do was stare at nothing. She felt lifeless, as if her soul had been left back in that building with her parents. She looked up at the window and the city’s terminating irradiance.
“Mom… Dad…” She could barely speak. Exhausted, she slowly drifted off, her mind ringing from explosions that seemed so far away.
…
Amber woke up to sunlight streaming through the window. The musty basement air was heavy when she breathed it in. Rubbing her cold eyes, she looked around to take in her lack of surroundings. Just an empty basement, she thought. Memories flooded into her decrepit mind, and she remembered why she was here. Reality again crushed her like an ant. She had nowhere to go – no friends, no family, no one. She was all alone in the middle of hell.
Amber stood up slowly and walked towards the window across from her. She could see the smoke of the tattered city rising into the Saturday morning sky, and all she could think of was how many people had suffered the same fate as her, the same fate as Paula and her parents. How many other cities had suffered last night? Was Los Angeles gone too? What about the East Coast – New York? Boston? Washington DC? Did her government even exist anymore? Amber pondered what adults usually burdened, not children.
As she stared out towards the San Franciscan cinders, she tried to think of what she’d do next. Her closest family was in Wisconsin, and there was no way she was getting there by herself. She could try to just keep walking away from the city; maybe she’d find some place safe. Or the invaders will find me. She pushed that idea aside. She sighed. “I have to stay here,” she said softly. There was no other option. In this house she had shelter, and with luck it would be of no interest to anyone who wanted to hurt her. But that seemed like a far distant hope. “Eventually someone will find me,” she whispered, her head beginning to swirl, “whether it’s us or them, someone will find me.” She put her hand to the gash on her cheek. It stung painfully, and the touch momentarily snapped away the swirling. She pushed back more tears. “I have to be strong,” she said, “for Mom, and Dad, and…” Her voice was drowned out by a new wave of swirling in her head. She suddenly stumbled. Her legs felt weak, and the room was spinning in time with her light head. I must still be exhausted. She walked slowly and carefully back to her spot on the wall, leaning her back and head into it. “Someone will find me,” she whispered, though she was barely audible over the white noise, “someone will…”
Amber closed her eyes and went to sleep for a long time.
Written during the autumn and winter of 2015
