All of the doors were open. The main double swing doors at the back, and the emergency exits at the bottom. More heads and bodies squeezed in through them all, desperately trying to see the screen. The heat generated by so many human beings in one place was intense. The smell of sweat was inescapable, rising through Jake’s nostrils, sticking in his throat.
Yet despite the unprecedented number of people, the only sound in the vast auditorium came from the speaker system. The words of a reporter, whose face was being projected onto the giant display that lined the rear wall of the stage. A logo in the corner informed the assembled viewers that they were watching CNN. As if, Jake thought to himself, it really mattered who was reporting this. It wasn’t as if history was going to recall the name of the station that managed to produce this broadcast. The final broadcast.
The image of the reporter was replaced with a video report. The banner across the bottom read simply, “The End?” Jake listened to the report as it echoed through the cavernous room.
“The rumours had already begun to spread through social media networks, before the first confirmed sighting came from Australia. Footage captured on cellphone cameras and streamed live across the internet showed the sky darkening. As the asteroid approached, panic in the streets. Then, the crack of a sonic boom as it passed overhead at incredible speed. It was as if an earthquake had struck. Windows were blown out, entire buildings destroyed, as the immense vibrations of the passing monster shook them to the ground.”
The report was showing hastily cut together video clips. It did indeed look like an earthquake, but it was as if the tape had been sped up. A deafening boom, dust and debris shooting into the air, and buildings apparently exploding or simply crumbling like sandcastles in the wind.
“And then came the dust. A minute after the asteroid passes, maybe two, the dust starts to rain down. Thick, black, and molten. Even now, as the end approaches, we cannot, will not, show the images,” the screen faded to black, but the sound continued. The screams. Gut wrenching, blood curdling, terrible screams.
“Anyone who made it out of the buildings alive, was surely fatally burnt, or smothered by the dust cloud.”
The screen faded again, this time to a computer generated graphic showing the Earth rotating serenely against a white backdrop. A black circle scanned across Australia, trailing a wide grey tail behind it.
“Data from NASA’s satellites shows the asteroid as it began its orbit around our planet. Thirty three minutes to complete a circuit, the time increasing slightly with every pass as it spiralled upwards, approaching the equator, cleansing the Earth of life with every turn.”
The dot on the graphic wound around and upwards, as if painting the globe black. The grey tail was so wide that each circuit covered a band thousands of kilometres across. The clock on the graphic indicated that in a little over four hours, half of the world had been destroyed. Scorched from existence. Somebody in the stalls tried, and failed, to stifle a sob.
“Then, the riots began. As news spread, and as the asteroid approached Japan, amid widespread panic people took to the streets.” More video montage, some from cellphone cameras, some from professional news crews. Every time the same. Panic. Screaming. An earth shattering crack as blackness streaked overhead, and then the pictures faded to black amid the howling and the anguished cries of people burning, suffocating, dying. Jake’s stomach turned, his mind could hardly grasp the full horror of what he was witnessing. It felt unreal, like he was watching some kind of sick disaster movie. More people had begun to cry, someone close by him fainted, falling to a crumpled heap in a forest of legs. In front of him he heard a whispered prayer. But most remained silent, eyes glazed over, watching, listening, like Jake, unable or unwilling to believe.
As north Africa, the middle east, central China, and then the southern states of the USA were wiped one by one from the map, the graphic faded and the screen once again showed the reporter. Her eyes were red, her hand shaking slightly.
“And so as the asteroid heads towards the northern states, it seems our time as guardians of the Earth is at an end. Maybe someone, somewhere, will see this broadcast and will survive. Maybe the human race will find a way to live on. All efforts to destroy the asteroid, or somehow change its course, have failed. In our final hour, our true insignificance is laid bare. We hold no special place in the universe, we are fragile, and now, we are finished.” Her voice began to crack. “This is Emily Randolph, for CNN. May God help us. Mom, dad, Russell, I love you….” The screen cut to black, and silence once again filled the theatre.
Two
FLYNN BAKEMAN WAS elated. He paced up and down the length of his cabin. It was one of the cheaper rooms on the ship, and his large muscular frame made it appear even smaller than it already was. A television screen in the corner of the room had just faded to black.
“This is it Eileen! The end of times have come! So long I’ve waited. And I’ll admit, once or twice I even had doubts. But the Lord told me to be patient, and He was right!”
Eileen was sitting on the bed, sobbing, head sunk low.
“What’s wrong with you? This is a momentous day! We are to bear witness to the reckoning! Armageddon is approaching. It’s happening in our lifetimes!”
“I don’t want to die, Flynn. I wanted to see the kids married. I wanted to have grandchildren. I wanted to travel, see the world. I want to live!”
“Living? Living is nothing!” he shouted at his wife without looking at her. “Living is waiting. Soon the rapture will be upon us. Soon we will all depart this mortal world and meet our true destiny. We shall kneel before our maker, and become His servants. And you want to live?” He sounded incredulous.
“Flynn, I’m sorry. But I don’t…I can’t believe the same things you believe…” her sobs turned to wails. She was becoming hysterical.
“Sorry? You’re ‘sorry’?” He mimicked her high pitched voice as he said it, and lashed out, catching his wife’s face with the back of his hand. A thin streak of blood wound its way down her right cheek.
“We must prepare our souls. This is no time to harbour regrets, or fear, or sorrow. You are weak, and you will suffer in eternal damnation. But not me. I will not be denied my true place at His side because of your weakness!”
He raised his hand, and struck her once more, harder than before. The blow knocked her flat. She was out cold.
Three
JAKE WIPED THE corners of his mouth with the back of his hand. A thin slimy layer of vomit clung to it. He stared out to sea. He’d always preferred the view from this position on the ship, gazing astern from the terrace on deck thirteen. Looking back, seeing where they had been, instead of the familiar view of where they were headed, a view he spent most days regarding from his position on the bridge. But the view today was different. The blue sky, so bright day and night throughout the summer months up here near the pole, was blackening. All colour had been drained from the world. The huge icebergs, normally too dazzling to look at without sunglasses, appeared to shrink away, as if frightened by what was to come. Their sparkling sheen was gone, now they were just grey lumps floating in a black sea. The air was no longer crisp, the cold had lost its bite. The approaching molten dust cloud was already heating the atmosphere.