Chapter 16: Hell

There are three things I remember about what happened next.

The first: It was windy. The type of wind that has you bent over; loud and obnoxious, distorting every sound you hear. And where, like tiny swords, the dust and the ash slash away at your face.

The second: The smell of the blood. The blood on my hands. The blood dripping from my forehead, from your forehead. The blood on my clothing, on my shoes, in my hair. My blood, your blood, their blood. The smell. No, the stench of death. I remember being overpowered by it. Throwing up.

The third: It was hell. Standing a top the overpass, what I saw, what we saw, had no ways to be described. There was no humanity left. No hope, no reason. Just savage despair: pain, tortured faces, limbs and shells. Some bodies, maybe, it was hard to tell. The ground was scorched. The buildings, decimated.

Why was I alive?

How had I survived the massive explosion?

No, the first explosion, was a small hydrogen bomb. Too small for this. There was a second explosion. There had to have been. Where did it come from? The first bomb, our bomb, was supposed to end it all. So then why was I standing alone, on the overpass, covered in blood? Where was everyone?

My head was bleeding. The skin on my arms was charred. My eyes, stinging from the smoke. Bent over, on my knees the pain, the anger boiling deep within me. So much rage. So much pain from the rage. I grabbed my gun. I stumbled to my feet. The wind pushing me back to the ground, one, two, three times. Now blinded by the rage, I was ready to jump off the overpass. Ready to fly down to the hell below. My hell. The hell I created.

No that’s not right! Who created this hell? I didn’t know. I couldn’t remember.

“What the fuck was I supposed to do? God damn cowards! Is this what you wanted? Is this what you had planned this whole time. Using me?” I had pressed the button…

No! Wait! That was for the first explosion.

What about the second one? The big one?

It wasn’t me!

I stumbled closer to the edge and kept on screaming in a crazy mad fit.

“Show your face! Right here! Right now! Fight me! That’s what you want isn’t it? You want to fight? I’ll fight you! I’ll take you down. I’ll blow the fuck out of you. KABOOM. You want hell, I’ll give you fucking hell. You already took everything away from me. Come and fight me! SHOW YOUR GOD DAMN FACE. I know you’re…”

Who was I angry at? I couldn’t remember. I didn’t know.

My head was hurting.

I was one step closer to the edge, one step closer to jumping off the overpass. That’s when you grabbed my ankle.

I hadn’t notice you.

I didn’t know all this time you were staring at me.

I didn’t know you were right there by my side.

You were still alive.

Your breath lost in the stench.

Your heartbeat lost in the howling wind.

Suddenly, hell became my hell. I was no longer staring at it from the top. I was amidst it. The rage gone. My anger gone. I dropped to me knees and started crying.

Bitter tears.

I am sorry you had to see me cry. I am sorry.

I am so sorry.

“I am sorry,” I said. “I am so sorry. I failed. I couldn’t be the person you needed me to be. I just couldn’t. I’m sorry.”

You sat up as I kneeled beside you. For a second, the whole world stood still. The wind was no more. The stench was no more. Hell was no more. There was just you and me. I grabbed your head between my hands. Gently. And rested my lips on your forehead. I am so sorry, I tried to say again. But no sound came out.

We were both crying in silence and it felt so good. I was no longer alone. So, we cried in silence.

Music started playing in my heart. That same melody haunting my dreams.

You wrapped your arm around me, and you hugged me tightly. I kissed your forehead again and again. Holding on to this moment of peace. That’s when I tasted the blood. And rushing back at me came the smell, then the wind, then hell.

No matter how hard you hugged me, I knew I’d have to let you go. I knew your time was up.

As I looked you right in the eyes, I saw the pain you were in. I saw your body in pieces. I knew I had to let you go. I could end this nightmare for you.

So, I did.

Holding on to your face. Gently, I pressed my hands against your cheeks. For a moment, I felt your heartbeat resonate through my body. It was dim. It was fleeting but it was then that I took your light away. You pushed your last breath looking straight into my eyes.

The music slowly drifting away.

“I am sorry,” I said again. “But I promise you I’ll stay alive. No matter what. I promise you. I will never die.”

Now that I think of it, I remember a fourth thing. I remember how beautiful the sky was that night as I stayed at the top of the overpass. Small fires burning on the ground like beacons of hope in the dark. Stars shinning in the sky.

You were gone, but the smile on your face lingered. I apologized a million times, my voice still echoing in the emptiness. I lay motionless on the ground beside you. Wishing death would carry me away.

Staring up into the infinite sky I wondered; how many times would mankind have to walk through hell before choosing a different path? How many people had died today? How many people had I killed? How many people had lost someone, the way I had lost you? How many people had lost everything? Where was I to return? Who had won? Had it been worth it? Could this much destruction ever be worth it?

I ran my hand over my left cheek. I shivered at the pain. My hand raw, burnt to the bone. I ran my hand over my left cheek. 2-4-0-9 was gone.

And I smile. It surprised me.

I smiled?

It was just a reflex, I am sure. A muscle twitch maybe?

But I am sure, in that very moment, as I ran my hand over my left cheek; I smiled.

Oblivious to the pain, I started clawing away at my cheek. I knew where the numbers had been. One by one I clawed them off. Digging my nails always deeper. Deeper in my flesh, until my cheek was but a bloody mess. I stood up and walked away. I didn’t look back. I didn’t see that your smile was gone. I didn’t see that your body was now cold and stiff.

I walked away. I left you behind, but I didn’t leave hell.

I walked right into it. I embraced it, welcomed it and seized it. It made me smile again. There was nothing else for me to lose. It was a new-found freedom. Real freedom! One I had never experienced before.

I was no longer sorry. Sorry for what anyway? For having been used? For having pushed the button? Why did I push it anyway? What was the point of all this?

I had nowhere to return to, so I did the only thing I could do. I walked forward. It was July 1st. I remember.

I started by walking aimlessly. Holding on to my gun. Ready to shoot at the invisible enemy as I climbed through wreckage. I was holding on to my gun not because I was planning to use it, but because it made me feel powerful. It made me feel strong. I wanted to scare away whomever might cross my path. I didn’t want to engage. So, the gun stood in my hand like a warning. But the power it gave me, felt real enough to fool even myself: I was power.

I can’t recall how long I walked. Once or twice a helicopter flew over my head. I had to scramble out of view.

I didn’t know who would find me first.

But in the end, you did.

It was you who found me.

A million fires turned the cold air of winter into hot summer gust. The smell more putrid then ever. The heat was unbearable making everything worse. I needed water. I needed food. My head was spinning and my ears ringing. I had walked all day, yet, it felt to me like I hadn’t moved at all. The destruction around me was so widespread that in all directions, I was surrounded by a desert of ashes.

There is no way, Little Bell could have achieved all this. This was beyond understandable. This was not the result of a basement concoction. This had to have been a military scale complete destruction at the hand of some advance technology.

At my feet, I couldn’t tell what was house, what was tree or what was body. But amidst all this, one question, incessantly burning my mind: How did I survive this? Where was I when the bomb went off?

I don’t remember anything.

Where is everyone else?

What happened after the bomb went off?

Was there a second explosion?

YES, I am sure.

There WAS a second explosion.

But when was it? What happened between the first and the second explosion?

I couldn’t make sense of my thoughts. I couldn’t remember anything. The fog in my mind was so thick.

I had just sat down, on a pile of rubble, when you found me. I should have been afraid, or maybe angry, but deep down, when I saw your soldiers running towards me, I found myself to be relieved. I was happy to know that I was not the sole survivor. I was happy that I wouldn’t have to spend another night alone in this forsaken place. And maybe, just maybe, I’d be able to get some water.

I was sluggish and could barely sit straight. They came running towards me, straight on. No attempt to conceal their presence. Where was I going to run anyway? I didn’t move as they approached. I threw my gun to the ground. It didn’t matter that they were running, it still took them what felt like an eternity to reach me.

“Water please. I need some water.”

The words came out of my mouth without thinking. My voice sounded sheepish. So, I tried again; assertively this time.

“Water, I need water.”

They didn’t answer. They grab me under the arms and dragged me to an open space. I spontaneously started laughing. Had I reached a new stage in my delirium? The fog in my brain was growing ever thicker. But murderous thoughts still found their way. I knew I could take them down in a split second. But if I killed them all, where would I go?

I remained obedient. I remained patient and waited.

It paid off. They brought me to you.

A helicopter landed about 10 meters away from us. I was dragged and thrown in. I remained on the floor the entire flight going in and out of consciousness.

In my head the piano stood silent.

When I finally woke up, I was in a small room. No windows, no furniture but the bed I laid on. Next to me, clean clothes. Red. Just like the ones I use to wear. I had a splitting headache still unable to chase away the fog. My eyes were itchy but my hands, my arms no longer hurt. Fresh bandages covered them. And although the blood had been scrubbed away from my body, the smell of death lingered like a ghost from the past. I quickly slipped on the red pants and the red shirt and sat on the bed numb.

I watched my breath turn into steam with each exhalation.

But I wasn’t cold. Inside me I was being consumed by a fire.