If Hell is What You Want by Rafael Marmol

Author:Rafael Marmol [Marmol, Rafael & Books, Velox]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Velox Books
Published: 2022-09-04T22:00:00+00:00

The Nuclear Incident

on Bumblebee Lane

The sirens started blaring at around 2:30 a.m. It was high-pitched and piercing, not unlike a fire alarm going off inside of a building. Denise cursed whoever decided a test of the emergency weather system was a wise decision so early in the morning. I agreed, still shaking off the grogginess of sleep, and went to look out the window to see what the commotion was all about.

Everything appeared normal. The branches and leaves of the trees in front of our house were still. There wasn’t a single cloud overhead either. The crescent moon hung in the sky accompanied by some scattered stars. The neighborhood was as tranquil as always for this time of night. Not a single car moved up or down the road. The only stir of activity was the other homes’ lights coming on as more people woke up.

“Everything okay out there?” Denise asked from underneath the covers.

“Yeah, seems fine,” I replied, turning away from the window.

“Then why the fuck are they still blasting that God damned siren?” Denise shouted, turned over, and punched her pillow.

It was a good question. Our neck of the Pine Lands wasn’t known for extreme weather, aside from wildfires. Two years ago, 1500 acres had been lost in a massive forest fire. The smoke swirled across three counties, and the smell of the burning trees reached all the way to Northern New Jersey. Supposedly, even in New York City too. We’d been forced to evacuate as we were directly in its path. However, they contained it before it reached our neighborhood.

I dismissed the idea right away. There was nothing left to burn near us, and we would have smelled the smoke as soon as we woke up. The next thought was a tornado, but those are rare. They barely even register as worrisome. They’re nothing like the monstrous tornados out in the Midwest, ripping up houses from their foundations and killing hundreds of people.

“No idea,” I answered, shaking my head. “It’ll probably stop soon,” I added while crawling back into bed. Denise groaned and rolled back over to her side. A minute or two later, the sirens stopped.

“Thank God!” Denise muttered. I followed her lead and adjusted myself too. It was then our cellphones began to screech with the sound of an emergency alert.

“The fuck!” Denise shouted. She tossed the blanket off and reached out to her cell phone on her dresser.

“What now?”

“It says to get to the nearest television, radio, or computer with an internet connection, or wait for further text messages for instruction,” Denise read aloud. A chill overcame me. The thought of another wildfire came to mind. Was the rest of the forest on fire now too? I turned over to my dresser and grabbed the tv remote. The dormant television came to life and flooded the room with dim light. We both turned away a moment to allow our eyes to adjust to the brightness. A man’s calm voice spoke through the television speaker. We caught him at the end of his sentence.

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