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Authors: Andrew Barlow
Tags: Cli-fi
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the circus at the start of the long road to the harbour. All that showed of a statue in the middle of the roundabout was an arm protruding from a shroud of ivy. A finger pointed down the road, into the heart of the densest cluster of skyscrapers and, as the sun set below the rooftops, they looked into the valley of shadow with quaking hearts, wondering what further horrors awaited them.
Chapter Ten
As he listened to the soldiers’ footsteps echo down the long canyon, Fardelbear remembered the city teeming with people and the automobiles they valued more than life itself. He shuddered to recall the endless babble of voices, the drone of engines and the honking horns, and was reminded of another city whose destruction he had witnessed many years before the Exile.
It was at the climax of the greatest war that had yet engulfed mankind and both he and Warblegrub had watched in astonishment as tens of thousands of humans and countless other living creatures, had been vaporised in an instant. When the shockwave of the nuclear blast had passed and while the fireball raged above the tortured earth, he had begged Warblegrub to let him destroy mankind once and for all. Warblegrub had thought about it long and hard but in the end had shaken his head. “They have been given freewill and they must be masters of their own fate,” had been his reply.
The rising moon appeared from behind one of the tallest skyscrapers and for a moment all was as clear as daylight. Fardelbear paused on the parapet of an office block, some thirty stories up and looked down at the humans scurrying along the road to the port.
“But these are mine!” he growled.
Glowing eerily in the moonlight, a gull passed overhead, flew on down the road and vanished into the gloom. Its lonely cry came back to them, melancholy and haunting. Standing on the roof of a van as she waited for rest of the company to catch up, Sarah closed her eyes, felt the wind on her face and breathed deeply, tasting the salty sea air.
Their boots drowned out the first clap of thunder but the sky blackened over in seconds and they were blinded by a flash of lightning. A long, rolling peal of thunder shook the air and sent them diving for cover. Then a great surge of lightning rippled across the sky, wrapped whirling tentacles around masts and aerials, ran down the skyscrapers in flickering torrents and illuminated Fardelbear, just ahead, sitting on the roof of a bus.
As before, their weapons were useless and his glowing red eyes gazed leisurely about, oblivious to bullets and missiles, but when he moved he was as swift as the lightning. Launching himself from the bus, he charged straight through the company like a bowling ball. In their terror, the soldiers sprayed bullets after him and killed two of their comrades, and before he could return, they broke and fled, heedless of order, the Colonel cursing them as he followed.
*
Waking to the sound of thunder, Alex remembered the river booming through the canyon and wondered if she had fallen in. There was a blanket draped over her but her jumpsuit was dry. With a start, she remembered Fardelbear grabbing her. She sat up but it was too dark to see anything.
The thunder came again but it was growing fainter. Moonlight shone through venetian blinds and she saw a room lined with shelves, and full of cabinets and stands crammed with what appeared to be jumble and bric-a-brac. As the moonlight grew stronger, the jumble was revealed as an enormous collection of carelessly stacked ornaments and artefacts.
She got up, but as she draped the heavily striped blanket over the couch on which she had been sleeping, she encountered a large head with fearsome jaws and glaring eyes. When she hurled the thing away, it came to rest with a long tail stretched out towards her and she recognised the skin of a spectacular animal. A small paper tag covered in elegant handwriting was tied to the tail with string.
‘Bengal Tiger, shot by Robert, Baron Clive of
Chapter Ten
As he listened to the soldiers’ footsteps echo down the long canyon, Fardelbear remembered the city teeming with people and the automobiles they valued more than life itself. He shuddered to recall the endless babble of voices, the drone of engines and the honking horns, and was reminded of another city whose destruction he had witnessed many years before the Exile.
It was at the climax of the greatest war that had yet engulfed mankind and both he and Warblegrub had watched in astonishment as tens of thousands of humans and countless other living creatures, had been vaporised in an instant. When the shockwave of the nuclear blast had passed and while the fireball raged above the tortured earth, he had begged Warblegrub to let him destroy mankind once and for all. Warblegrub had thought about it long and hard but in the end had shaken his head. “They have been given freewill and they must be masters of their own fate,” had been his reply.
The rising moon appeared from behind one of the tallest skyscrapers and for a moment all was as clear as daylight. Fardelbear paused on the parapet of an office block, some thirty stories up and looked down at the humans scurrying along the road to the port.
“But these are mine!” he growled.
Glowing eerily in the moonlight, a gull passed overhead, flew on down the road and vanished into the gloom. Its lonely cry came back to them, melancholy and haunting. Standing on the roof of a van as she waited for rest of the company to catch up, Sarah closed her eyes, felt the wind on her face and breathed deeply, tasting the salty sea air.
Their boots drowned out the first clap of thunder but the sky blackened over in seconds and they were blinded by a flash of lightning. A long, rolling peal of thunder shook the air and sent them diving for cover. Then a great surge of lightning rippled across the sky, wrapped whirling tentacles around masts and aerials, ran down the skyscrapers in flickering torrents and illuminated Fardelbear, just ahead, sitting on the roof of a bus.
As before, their weapons were useless and his glowing red eyes gazed leisurely about, oblivious to bullets and missiles, but when he moved he was as swift as the lightning. Launching himself from the bus, he charged straight through the company like a bowling ball. In their terror, the soldiers sprayed bullets after him and killed two of their comrades, and before he could return, they broke and fled, heedless of order, the Colonel cursing them as he followed.
*
Waking to the sound of thunder, Alex remembered the river booming through the canyon and wondered if she had fallen in. There was a blanket draped over her but her jumpsuit was dry. With a start, she remembered Fardelbear grabbing her. She sat up but it was too dark to see anything.
The thunder came again but it was growing fainter. Moonlight shone through venetian blinds and she saw a room lined with shelves, and full of cabinets and stands crammed with what appeared to be jumble and bric-a-brac. As the moonlight grew stronger, the jumble was revealed as an enormous collection of carelessly stacked ornaments and artefacts.
She got up, but as she draped the heavily striped blanket over the couch on which she had been sleeping, she encountered a large head with fearsome jaws and glaring eyes. When she hurled the thing away, it came to rest with a long tail stretched out towards her and she recognised the skin of a spectacular animal. A small paper tag covered in elegant handwriting was tied to the tail with string.
‘Bengal Tiger, shot by Robert, Baron Clive of
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