A body on the ground, pieces, the sound of an infant inside a building. A severed leg. A china cup. Blood. Piss and shit. A crack of timber. Fear. The screeching of sirens, howling of fire engines, the ceaseless barking of dogs, the monotonous drone in the sky, the coughing 'ack ack' of anti-aircraft fire, thudding above the skyline, the clouds themselves lighting up from inside, rubble and glass raining to the ground. A moment's silence giving way to an explosion she felt before she heard it, the very ground shaking beneath their feet, shuddering buildings, a rain of glass shattering down into the empty street to their left...
Chapter 21
'The goal of life is to make your heartbeat match the beat of the universe, to match your nature with Nature.'
- Joespeh Campbell
Press play
10th May 1941
Emerging out of a time-rip was always disorienting. Victoria had never really enjoyed the experience, even after all these years, but she could control the sensations that came with it. She'd no idea how many jumps she'd done now but over the years the nausea had faded, the tingling pins and needles in the feet and hands had given way, the woozy unbalanced head snapped back into focus faster than before and the summersaulting stomach had calmed itself to a numbed but controlled growling. Michael on the other hand, she knew, was still struggling. Every one of his jumps invariably resulted in him puking his guts out. Or at least spending fifteen minutes post-jump trying not to. Gabriel she could always depend on. He'd taught her how to jump - a veteran of the art since his early teenage years, he could always be relied upon to be there, levelheaded, calm and in control whilst those around him were losing control of their minds. And bowels.
Considering all of this, the jump out of Islington came as a shock. Emerging out of the rip, Victoria felt the air hit her like a slap in the face. It wasn't just the intense heat, the screaming noises in the darkness that seemed to surround her or even the obvious smell of burnt bodies but something else - something undefinable. Something insubstantial but tangible. Fear. It was fear. The fear of an entire city. She came out easily enough, her feet touching the ground without problem. But with a crunch beneath her. As her vision swam back into focus, she could see what made the sound: glass. Shards of shattered glass. Hundreds, possibly thousands, of them. Breathing deeply, she raised her head to look around. Slowly, with an intake of breath, her jaw dropped. Before her lay a perfect vision of hell.
Above, the sky above was a bruise, battered brown and bleeding, the clouds black as soot. Every few seconds the air would tear open as another explosive ruptured the blackness, flashing the sky orange and brown. Streaks of orange zipped into the air, criss-crossing, zig-zagging, tearing the night open in seemingly random sequences. Explosions, high, high above them bubbled and belched, chugged and clacked. Looking down, ahead of her, no street lights were visible. Fires tore through buildings all around, flames lighting up the collapsing, smashed rib-cages of the structures, masonry crumbling like rotten timber, the smash of glass windows exploding behind them, a building groaning like a ancient monster, as its walls teetered on the edge of collapse.
'What the fuck is going on?' said Michael's voice from behind her, cracking with strain.
'Keep your head down' she could hear Gabriel say, the sound of a body being hauled up off the ground as he said it. Instinctively she knew that Gabriel had him by the shoulders and was holding Michael so as he wouldn't run screaming into a firestorm.
'We need to move' she said, 'now'.
''No shit' came Gabriel's voice, as his hand found hers.
Half-blind, terrified, submerged in a cacophany of screaming sirens, distant sky-bound clacking and the wail of nearby fire engines, they staggered up the street, trying their best to make out where they were, trying to discern a shape, a sound, anything that could guide them along. After a few paces a deafening explosion tore the top half of a building off about two streets away. The three of them instinctively dropped to one knee.
'Blitz' said Michael's voice, breaking with sickness and fear. 'We're in the fucking blitz'
'We need to get underground' Gabriel shouted above the din of a screaming in the sky. 'There's got to be a tube stop near here. Let's move'
Victoria grabbed the other side of Michael's body and hauled him upright. Faster now they moved, almost running, their free hands covering their mouths to block out the dense, all-pervasive choking smoke that seemed to be covering everything.
'Keep moving' Gabriel barked at them. Not that they needed to be told. Victoria's legs were almost moving independently of her. She'd seen some scary shit in her time on this job, but this was about as bad as it had ever gotten. She genuinely wondered for a moment how the hell they were going to get out of this. And then she saw one. A white spark. Another.
'Oh shit' she heard Gabriel say.
Swirling from above, drifting, weaving, almost gracefully towards them, fluttering down into the dark shadowed spaces, clumps of incendiary bombs fell. Two dozen in two seconds. A platoon of murdering devices, sliding down to earth with all the pretty innocence of a child's Halloween sparkler. With a sequence of bubble-wrap pops they flashed brightly, then quickly simmered down to pin points of glittering white, burning ferociously in the shadows. Some went out. Some did not. Some caught. Some sparked. Some took hold. Soon a yellow flame leapt up from the white center. They had done their job - another building was on fire. In seconds, the inferno seemed to engulf the street around them, flames leaping through the dark, hunting out food to eat.
'We're going to be dead in seconds' Gabriel roared, lifting them both back up and hauling them to a moving pace.
'Left' Victoria heard Michael croak. 'Left'
'What?' she managed.
'Left. Go left. Station. Left...'
They didn't disagree and started moving as fast as they could.
Flash, bang. Flash, bang. Above them, getting closer, the sound of grinding engines, buzzing like a swarm of angry aliens in the sky, getting closer and closer, the whining of metal on metal becoming unbearable, the ack-ack of anti-aircraft fire wildly tearing up the sky, streaks of fire flailing through the London night.
A body on the ground, pieces, the sound of an infant inside a building. A severed leg. A china cup. Blood. Piss and shit. A crack of timber. Fear. The screeching of sirens, howling of fire engines, the ceaseless barking of dogs, the monotonous drone in the sky, the coughing 'ack ack' of anti-aircraft fire, thudding above the skyline, the clouds themselves lighting up from inside, rubble and glass raining to the ground. A moment's silence giving way to an explosion she felt before she heard it, the very ground shaking beneath their feet, shuddering buildings, a rain of glass shattering down into the empty street to their left. They lurched across the road, almost banging into a flaming car obscured by the smoke, around a corner, tripping over a curbside and crashing to the ground. Victoria managed to outstretch a hand, breaking the fall. Something wet on her hand. Blood? Oil? Both?
She heard Michael hit the curb with a bang, Gabriel tumbling with a curse.
'Up! On your fucking feet' she heard a voice shout, 'Get up!'. Not a voice she knew. A woman. A hand grasping hers. 'Take your friends' hand. Hold on. Do not let go of him.'
Through the murk she could see a figure taking Michael's hand and thrusting it into hers. The figure moving again, taking another hand, Gabriel's, and thrusting it into Michael's. Through the dark a helmet visible on her head. Three letters in white paint: ARP.
'If you want to live, hang on to each other and hang on to me. Now let's go' she barked.
Victoria nodded, unable to speak, her throat feeling like it had just been sandpapered.
'Follow me' the woman ordered.
And they did, moving in tandem, the blind leading the blind, the smoke swirling like black soup about them, an explosion in the next street that made them crouch down, a scream from the woman to keep moving, another road to cross, another twist, a wrench of metal hinges, a grinding of steel on concrete, a hand thrusting her inside, another hand on her head guiding her in, stopping her from cracking her head off something. A slamming of a gate. A door. Steps down. A lamp. Light on a face. Patning, sucking the air in. Deep breathing. Michael slumping down a wall, his legs giving way, his face streaked with dirt and his eyes bloodshot to red. A woman's face, black with smoke and filth, panting and cracking a smile from the corner of her mouth to reveal white teeth and a pink tongue.
'You three. Do you have any idea how close you were to getting blown to pieces?'
'Thankyou' Victoria said through a cracking throat. The woman handed her some water. Victoria took it, placing her other hand on the woman's shoulder, a squeeze of thanks.
'Where are we?' Gabriel asked, leaning against a wall.
'Euston. You're in Euston underground station' came the reply.
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Keep Calm And Carry On by J.C. Niemeyer, used under a Creative Commons License.
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Inspired by the work of Ernie Pyle.
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