Saturday, 2 April 2011

decision.

I sprinted down the right, coming straight away to a staircase and leaping up it three steps at a time.
   When I got to the top of the stairs, I decided to keep going. Part of me wanted to turn back and run and find her, make sure the soldier hadn’t got her. It didn’t sound like he’d followed me, after all. But she was smart – and she had a gun. We both knew the plan: to get to the rooftop.
   So I kept going.
   I ran through all of the corridors and up all of the staircases. Then I sighted the door that opened up onto the roof – opened up onto freedom. I burst through it into the wind and the rain that sprinkled down from the sky. It was refreshing and cold.
   But I spotted something that took my attention away from the refreshing rain and the cold air.
   My machine, the one I’d created in the first place, stood battered and dented at one side of the roof, on the other side of a huge crack. There was also another door, leading back into the building. There had been two staircases – and she had taken those and was already there. She was staring into the core of the machine that had been exposed. I cupped my hands around my mouth and called her name.
   She spun round and I saw her eyes light up. She ran towards me and skidded to a halt on the edge of the fracture in the building. It was way too wide to leap across, even with a good run-up. And the parachute was on this side of the building. I could see it laying to the side, a huge hole ripped in it. My spirits sank. Our plan was foiled.
   “Ben! It still works!” She cried. I drew my attention back to the machine with its icy blue glowing core. I suddenly hated it – hated my idea of being able to stop time and hated myself for trying.
   “We need to destroy it!” I shouted.
   “But... you created it,” she said, confused. “Why would you want to destroy it?”
   “Look what it’s done!” I cried, waving my arms at the pit before us.
   She hesitated, and then decided she’d lost the argument and destroying the machine was the only thing for it. She turned back to the machine and looked blankly at the buttons around it. She pressed one and the patterns in the glowing core fluctuated and morphed.
   “What do I press?”
   “Uh... well, you need to... it’s hard to explain without showing you!” I struggled. “Maybe I should go round and come up there?”
   “Don’t touch that machine!” The sergeant shouted.
   We froze. About twenty soldiers poured out of the staircase on her side of the building. Twenty guns cocked and twenty soldiers took aim. The wind blew and tossed her hair about her shoulders. She looked deadly beautiful in the face of death.
   And then she slammed her hand down on the keypad of the machine. The blue core fizzed and sparked, and the soldiers opened fire. She held her arms up in front of her face and turned her back on the bullets.
   The bullets that froze mid-air.
   A steady beeping echoed hollowly around the still air – frozen in time by my creation for a limited amount of time.
   “What happened?”
   “Grab my hand!” She screamed. She leant over the gap and outstretched her hand.
   “Wait – it’s still... the countdown...”
   “Help me, please.”
   Her fingertips were so far away. The gap was too wide. There were soldiers around us, frozen in time. The countdown was nearing its end – there was no time left.   

1 comment:

  1. Hmmm very interesting ... a machine to stop time. So, I'm on the edge of my seat here - what next????

    ReplyDelete