Jacob’s bug eyes were jolting from person to person. He broke in to a sprint and turned every corner heading towards the smoke. Chaos. ‘No sirens, why aren’t there any sirens?’ He carried on all the way in to town, only having to break two or three times to catch his breath. Still no sirens. Many other people had caught on to this too and were running full pelt all around him. Jacob drowned out the voices all shouting at one another. All noise. The group of two hundred or more came to their first blockade. An entire four story office building collapsed on it’s side, which was large enough to block up the roads. People were hanging from the windows, some were scattered across the pavement and tarmac, dismembered or worst. Blood and fire was everywhere. Jacob helped where he could, dragging people from the rubble, trying to put out fires, comforting the dying.
It didnt seem real to him. This was not him. He didnt do this. This wasnt reality, this was, must have been a nightmare. This was false. Hours passed. There were still people trapped in the rubble. No authorities came. No sirens. As a few left to help in other areas or find loved ones, another few left to bring vans and tools to help at the scene. Twenty men, lead by a former fire fighter had driven to the fire station where they had found it abandonned. Returning with three fire engines they helped put out the numerous fires and used the ladders to reach people high up.
Eventually after four hours they believed they had rescued anyone still alive to rescue and most of the crowd, including Jacob moved on through and over collapsed alleys, demolished houses, a caved in sewer and a dozen or more shops that had been brought to rubble.
Corpses and limbs littered the streets.
The day went on. The dead far outweighed the living as the crowd got closer and closer to the crash site. Soon enough questions of “how could this happen?” Or “where are the authorities?” Became a thing of the past. Soon enough there weren’t many injured people lying amongst the army of bodies… No one left to save.
The darkened skies were now turning to dusk and what little sunlight they had was now replaced by torches and head flash lights. They had to abandon the fire engines when another road block stopped them from being brought around the wreckage and in to places of use. The former fireman who’s name Jacob believed was Oliver was a grizzled, towering, gruff man in his mid sixties, who had a rough face that time had not been kind to. As the journey went on Oliver had become the defacto leader due to his experience in fire and rescue, his medical training also helped too on more than one occasion.
Jacob was the first to set sights on the crash sight. A thick dry coat of dust and blood covering his body and his clothes. There was fire spread around the remnants of the black plane that had broken in half and folded like paper, the tail at a 90 degree angle poking from a meteoric dig in the ground facing the men and women.
“That cant have been any normal plane.” Oliver grumbled nearby Jacob. “To make an impact like this?”
The front end of the plane was on the other side of the giant blast zone shredded and ablaze. To the left and right of the blast zone emmerged the other groups of people who had been helping their way through the chaos. They silently nodded at eachother before looking down in to the pit of plane wreckage. “What do you reckon was in there then?” A man asked Jacob who was staring gormlessly in to the fire.
“I erm- im not sure.” Jacob replied caught off guard.
The man looked over at Oliver. “Its a military plane right, Oliver?”
Oliver nodded and walked over. It was at this point Jacob noticed that the leader of the group had been wearing what appeared to be a well fitted white shirt, black suit pants and smart shoes that were all now filthy and torn up.
“Aye it is.” Oliver snorted. “It’s a Boeing C-17 Globemaster III. Or was. Painted all black though… bit odd.”
“Maybe its some secret government black site thing like in America area 56 or whatever its called.” The man droned making Jacob think he was a simpleton.
A few others also walked over and gave their opinions. Jacob switched off and took a step towards the edge looking deep in to the chasm. There in the middle of the plane crash was a set of cargo containers which appeared to be ripped open with large claw marks in them.
Before Jacob could say anything a crackling came over on Oliver’s walkie talkie.
“Craven. It’s Alan. We’ve just been to the edge of town it’s not good.”
“What is it?” Oliver replied looking around at the others.
“We are being quarantined…” Alan sighed exasperated. “They are closing all exits to the town off. We are on our own.”
Jacob looked back in to the pit and clenched his fists until they turned white.