The Only Way Is Up

Apocalyptic Fiction By Melissa R. Mendelson

The substance reminded me of that liquid that flies out of a Windex bottle and smashes onto the windshield.  That substance would slide down toward the dashboard.  This stuff didn’t but hovered in the air like a series of twisted bubbles, and it glimmered across their skin, some even popping against their eyes.  But they couldn’t blink or scream.  They just stood there.

“Don’t touch them,” she screamed from the factory door.  “Whatever you do, don’t touch them.”

“I know that, Megan,” but I couldn’t help but watch one woman slowly reaching around in her pocketbook as if the answer to her escape would lie in there.  It didn’t.  “Jesus, these poor people.”

“Get inside,” Harold barked.  “That stuff could touch you.  What are you?  Nuts?”  He stood by the factory door as if that would save him, as if that would save any of us, but sooner or later, this stuff would get inside.  And that would be the end of us.

“It’s moving,” Linda cried.  “That stuff is moving.”

Linda was right.  A bubble was a little too close to my face, and I jumped back.  I witnessed a friend of mine being grazed by one little orb of that stuff, and it coated over him instantly.  He was trapped, and I couldn’t free him.  What the hell was this stuff doing to them? “It’s shutting them down.”  Lyle was always the quiet one, watching, calculating.  He gave me the creeps, and the people in the town called him a freak, especially when he claimed that he could build a rocket ship in the old factory.  No one believed him, but he did it.  And he was the only one that tried to save us, tried to save me.  “Please, get inside,” he said in a soft tone.  “We don’t have much time,” and he slipped inside the factory without waiting for the rest of us to follow.

“Damn it, Linda!  Stand the fuck up!”  Harold tried to pull Linda to her feet.  “You fat bitch, we’re all going to die, if you don’t move.”

Megan stepped in-between them and slapped Harold against his face.  She raised her hand up into the air, high, ready to do it again, but Linda gasped.  Megan followed her eye-gaping stare over to a little bubble that landed on her hand.  It broke instantly, and before Megan could react, she was absorbed into that stuff, almost taking Linda and Harold with her.

“Move!”  Harold helped Linda stand up from the ground.  “Move!”

I was right behind them, but I turned to look at Megan.  She blinked, but it was her last blink.  She was still in there, trapped in that stuff, in her body, and there was nothing that we could do about it, nothing that I could do about it.  And Harold grabbed hold of me, hurling me inside the factory and slamming the doors shut.

“Fuck!”  Harold glared at Linda.  “That’s on you.  She would’ve lived, if you had just moved your ass!”

“Harold,” I said.  “Stop.”

“Stop?”  He laughed an ugly laugh.  “You want to stand out there like the rest of them and just stop?  Go ahead.  I’ll open the door for you,” but he didn’t.  “Ly, where’s this fucking ship you built?”

“Why are they doing this?”  Linda grabbed my hand.  She was shaking badly.  “Why did they decide to do this to us?  What did we ever do to them?”

“We pissed them off,” Lyle said as he approached Linda.  “Our behavior.  Our way of living.  Who the hell knows?  Climate Change?”

“Climate Change?”  Harold sneered.  “Seriously?”

“Well, if the fucking aliens had stuck around, we could’ve asked them.  Hell, no one knew they were even here or that the rain was their weapon to end us.  We just thought it was rain, and for those stuck outside… They’re stuck for good,” Lyle said.

“But you knew.”  Harold approached Lyle with a look of rage on his face.  “How the fuck did you know?”

“It hasn’t rained in weeks.”

“So?”  Harold’s breath washed over Lyle’s face.  “It was going to rain sometime, and you didn’t answer the question.  How the fuck did you know?”

“The rain didn’t look right,” Lyle said not flinching at Harold’s close proximity to him.  “Rain doesn’t fall like that, and it was blue.”

“Blue?  Really?”  Harold moved an inch back.  “So, the color of the fucking rain and the way that it fell told you that aliens were coming to Earth to kill us?”

“Maybe,” Lyle said.

“Climate Change,” Linda chimed in.

“It felt more than that.”

“Ladies and Gentlemen, John Edwards.”  Harold clapped his hands, and the sound resonated throughout the factory.  “Now, where’s the ship?  I want to get the fuck out of here, so please, tell me it’s operational.”

“It’s operational.”

I didn’t like the look on Lyle’s face.  What wasn’t he telling us?

“What did you mean by it was shutting them down?”  Linda stood by the door, staring at us as if we were going to throw her outside at any moment, and Harold might just do that.  He was already cranked up.  “Is it killing them?”

“Yes, Linda.  It’s killing them.”

“How do you know that, Lyle?”  Now, he looked at me, but he was trying to avoid eye contact since we came inside.  “What aren’t you telling us?”

“See for yourself.”

Lyle led us further into the factory.  It was always abandoned.  Well, until Lyle claimed that he could build a spaceship here, so his uncle bought him the place.  But he didn’t do it out of the kindness of his heart.  He wanted Lyle to fail, and the town would rub it into Lyle’s face.  But they were wrong, or were they?  Where was the ship, and why was he stalling?  And why was he leading us to a small booth with several cameras recording the outside, watching the people still trapped in that stuff?

“You spying on the town?  Making sure that no one bothers you while you work?”

Lyle ignored Harold.  “Watch!”  He checked his timer nearby.  “How much time do you think has passed?  Five minutes?  Ten?”

The woman with her pocketbook fell over.  Another fell a moment later.

“Ten minutes,” Lyle said.

“So, what is it?  What is that stuff doing to them exactly?”  I didn’t want the answer, but I asked anyway.  “Lyle?”

“It’s shutting them down.  Internally.”

“Are they in pain?”  Tears ran down Linda’s face as she stared at Megan.  “Can they feel what is happening to them?”

“I don’t know,” Lyle said.

“You don’t know?  The boy genius doesn’t know?”

“I’m thirty-two, Harold.  You’re pushing what?  Forty-five?”

“Keep my age out of your fucking mouth,” Harold snapped.

“Linda, you’re what? Fifty?”

“Fifty-five,” Linda said.  “Why?”

“It’s the ship, isn’t it?”  My heart dropped as Lyle nodded at my words.  “You can only take one of us.”

“Yes, I can only take one of you.  The ship was always made for two.”  He glanced at me.  “How old are you?”

“Twenty-eight,” I said, and he nodded at my words.

“Well, who the fuck cares about anyone’s fucking age?  If you’re trying to determine which one of us is going to live, then it’s going to be me,” Harold roared.

“Republican.”

Harold’s head twisted around toward Linda.  “Democrat,” he spat at her.

“Hey!”  Everyone looked at Lyle.  “Do you think the aliens that dropped that shit outside really care about who’s a Republican and who’s a Democrat?”  Harold and Linda looked away.  “No, they don’t care, and they probably dropped that stuff all over the planet, which was why they didn’t stick around afterward.”

“Glad I’m an Independent,” I said.

“Don’t make me change my mind.”  Lyle sighed.  “It’s over.  We’re over.”

“Can’t you save us?”  Linda grabbed hold of him, shaking his arm.  “Please, I can’t die like this.”

“If we all stay here, we all die.”  Lyle touched her face almost as if she were his mother.  “I’m sorry, Linda.  I can’t take you.”

“Then, why the fuck did you help us?  Why did you fucking say to follow you here, Ly?  What kind of fucking mind games are you playing, or are you getting one last laugh in before you leave?”

Linda moved away from Lyle and placed a hand on Harold’s arm, surprising him with her touch.  “I understand,” Linda said.  “You wanted to help us, even if you couldn’t,” and Lyle nodded at her words.  “It’s okay.  I forgive you.”  She was quiet for a moment.  “It will get inside.  Won’t it?”

“Yes.  It will.”

“Okay.”  Linda sat down on the ground.

“Again with the fucking ground, Linda.”

“I’m done, Harold.”  She didn’t look at him.  “Let them go.  Let them get out of here.”

“No.  No!  There has to be another way.”

“There isn’t, Harold.  It’s two of us or none of us.”  Lyle’s voice was low but stern.  “You want to choose?  Okay.  You choose.  We all die together, or you let me and her…”  He pointed at me.  “You let us go.”

Harold stepped back, rubbing his chin.  “Fuck,” he hissed.  “Where are you two going anyway?”

“The space station,” Lyle said.

“And what makes you think that the aliens will allow that?”

“Because they haven’t touched the space station, and I don’t think they will.”

“Psychic premonition?”

“Call it what you want, Harold, but that’s the only haven left.  The only way to live, the only way to survive is to go up.  So, what will it be, Harold?”

“Fuck,” Harold growled and stared at Linda.  “Fine.”  It was almost too low to hear. 

“What?”  I asked.

“Get out of here.  Both of you.”

I flinched at the look in Harold’s eyes, and I knew that he did not want to hear, thank you.  He just wanted us gone.

“Let’s go.”  Lyle’s touch was soft as he took me by the hand and led me away from Harold and Linda.

“I’m sorry,” I shouted back.  I had to say something.  I felt like I had to say something.

“Good luck,” Linda said.

Harold said nothing but sat on the floor next to Linda, and I could have sworn that he took her hand in his.

“This will work,” Lyle muttered to himself.  “This has to work.”

“Lyle.”  I pulled myself away from him.  “Lyle, look at me.”

He avoided eye contact.

“Lyle.”  He finally looked at me.  “Can you do this?  Can you get us out of here?”

“I have to try.”  He grabbed me by the hand and approached a large, metal door.  “She’ll fly.  I know she will.”  He let go of my hand and slid the door open.

The ship was small, familiar.  It was modeled after something, an old movie, but what movie?  I know I’ve seen it before, but where?

“Explorers?”

“You saw the movie?”  Lyle smiled, and I had not seen him smile since the attack had begun.  “I thought no one remembered it.”

“Well, you’ll get a big hug from me, if you can get this thing up in the air.”

“Let’s go.”

We were about to board when I heard Linda scream, “It’s inside.”

We heard nothing else.

“Move!”  Lyle sounded like Harold.  “Go!”

We boarded quickly, and Lyle slammed the door shut behind me.  He pushed me into a seat and buckled me in.  He quickly did the same thing and then started hitting several buttons at once.

“Lyle…”

“Don’t talk to me while I’m doing this.”

“Just hurry,” I whispered.  “Please.”

Lyle looked out into the factory.  The stuff was moving slowly toward us, but it was still heading this way.

“Hang on!  T minus ten.  Nine.  Eight.  Seven.  Six.”

I wanted to scream, hurry up, but I bit my tongue.

“Five.  Four.  Three. Two.  One.  Launch.”

The stuff was nearly at the door, but then we jerked upward, my body slamming down into its seat.  I had nothing to hold onto, so I folded my hands in my lap.  I shut my eyes.  I did not pray.  I just waited, and the roar of the shuttle filled my ears.  Then, nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  Did that stuff get in?  Are we still in orbit, about to crash back down into the Earth?

“Open your eyes,” Lyle whispered into my ear.

Stars.  So many stars.  We were in outer space.

“It’s beautiful,” I said.

“So are you.” 

Lyle returned to his seat and navigated toward the space station nearby.  That would be our new home, but maybe when that stuff finally dissipated, we could return to Earth.

I looked back at my world, and a scream rose up into my throat.

The gelatin substance was white and pink, shedding blue tears down into the world.  It was everywhere, and it was a miracle that we got out.  We did get out, right?

 Part of the substance lifted upward, forming a head, and turned toward the ship.  Black eyes opened, inhaling the stars in its gaze, but it didn’t reach for us.  It could have, if it wanted to.

Instead, the damn thing grinned.

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Bio: Melissa R. Mendelson is a Horror, Science-Fiction and Dystopian Author.  She is also a Poet.  She re-released her Sci-Fi Novel, Waken on Amazon and Amazon Kindle.  She is also the author of a poetry collection called, This Will Remain With Us published by Wild Ink Publishing. She has a short story collection “Better Off Here” and another book “Names Keeper” both of which can be purchased below.

She can be found at her website. Hit the Button.

Melissa has several stories posted to The Yard. They can be found HERE.

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“Name’s Keeper”. Amazon Affiliate Link
“Better Off Here”. Amazon Affiliate Link
“Waken”. Amazon Affiliate Link

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If you are going to survive the apocalypse, you might need a professional grade first aid kit from MediTac. It would be good for work and home as well.