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~ "They Came In Three's": Chp. 2 "The Fall of Light" ~ (594 hits)

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Chaper 2: "They Came In Three's"
By
Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.
http://blackauthorsconnect.com/content/327936/they-came-in-three-s-chp-2-the-fall-of-light

Albeit, the eye-like beams spit forth a deadly white light of destruction. The lights also appeared to be of a green, red, and blue color; a blend of different colors. No one stopped to wonder why the death-dealing machines shined three of four different yet distinct colors. Everyone simply ran.

We all ran in many different directions...away from the approaching invaders. Petty neighborhood squabbles were long forgotten with this new threat, a threat that brought about an eerie uniting of the people. There was little need to call upon the Black Folks for a meeting. There was little need to call for a rally or a boycott...all we wanted to do now was live..."By Any Means Necessary!"

'Dre' and I thought we'd have a chance to get back to the house...no way. The machines were nearing the corner of Baynton Street now. The surviving buildings along the block were engulfed in flames and smoke. Hope for them was an impossibility.

The uphill run on Walnut Lane to Morton Street was always a challenging hike on any given day. However, on this night, it was a push over. The reality was that nothing or no one was going to impeed the progress of life-saving escape. The analogy of people turning into savages rang true as every one seemed to run over any one who could not keep up or get out of the way of the stampeding horde.

Any parked cars along the way were very lucky at getting out. It was highly improbable that the escapees would have had time to pack a bag. The thought occured when I noticed the absence of vehicles on the street that would normally be jockying for a parking spot. Thirst crept into my throat, taking away all the aforementioned thoughts that occupied my mind while running away from certain death. I peered briefly back over my right shoulder. To take a longer look could cause one to miss a step and fall down. A half-a-second was all I needed...it was all that it took to see the horrific, spine tingling, and blood curdling events unfolding behind us. It's been said that the eye works just like a camera. The eye-lid works the same way as that of a lense shutter on any given image capturing device. It only took a split second to see the multi-colored death ray zapping people...first they freeze in their tracks, then the human body glows to a greenish-blue aura, revealing the skeletinal inner frame of the person being zapped...then the body vanishes; disappears! The proverbial description of "Crabs In a Barrell" was the order of the day. One dared not look back too long. We all kept on running.

We ran until we could run no more. We found ourselves walking briskly along with many people near the intersection of 'Chew Avenue and Washington Lane.' We didn't know many of the folks whom who accompanied us on this newly found trek away from the Walnut Lane area. As everyone seemed to be migrating toward the train station just past Chew Avenue, there were hundreds more running from Upsal Street to our location. If people were attempting to board the SEPTA Trains, how many had money to pay, if they bothered to stop at the station? It had to be well past two in the morning by this time. We didn't think about time with all this madness going on. But with time to stop and think for a moment, things of importance began to factor in. We had no food. We had no water. We had no transportation or communication. Another thought occured to me...remembering a conversation with the fellas at Gerry's House, our place of catharsis after a long days work. We argued about what would or could happen if our country ever had to deal with an invasion. Remembering what happened with the "911 Tragedy" and the storms and hurricanes which devistated the southern regions, we all agreed on what would probably happen. If an invading force knocked out communication, transportation, and utility services, a country could fall victim to the invading entity. As I looked around, weighing our circumstances, the reality of our thesis has come to pass.

Some one in the crowd loudly stated that the lot across the street is a city emergency center. From my vantage point in the middle of Washington Lane, I could see the big white city trash collection vehicles parked within. The large lot held several other city vehicles as well. This location is a major City Trash Recycling and Transfer Station. It can accommodate a very large amount of people. The only question is, how can this facility take care of all these people who are in need of food, water, waste disposal, and many other needs. I saw women with young children and babies... The elderly were here along with the sick and injured. What could anyone do to take care of all these folks? The void of darkness was momentarily avoided for some with the use of flashlights, LED lights from the nearby train station, the low luster of the overhead city street-lighting, and the dying cell phones of many who had them; mostly the young.

People were sobbing and crying. The heartbreaking sounds of young children and babies crying really got to me. In the distance, you could hear the rumbling of the machines as they grew near. The white-greenish-blue-yellow-red lights glowed over the tops of trees and buildings along the Washington Lane corridor. Some people began to kneel and pray. Others watched with faces of stone-cold fear, eyes wide open; big like saucers. Many had the look of death on their faces. It's a look that many meat workers have seen on the faces and in the eyes of the doomed cattle and other livestock caught in the shuttled chute of death. It's the look, some say, of knowing that it's your time to die.
Some of the so-called hard-core tough guys refused to show their fear because they were the intimidators of many, they packed weapons. They boasted of the '9mm's, Glocks, and other hand-held weapons. These were the guys who could not afford to show fear or any sign of being a punk, reputation is all that mattered. The truth is, they were as afraid as everyone else. They held no power here. They had no one to sell their dope to...there was no one to intimidate. Their eyes gave them away... The machines got closer and closer...there was no where to go, no where to run...all hope is gone.

In the distance...one could almost hear it. A siren! A police siren! was it the siren of a fire-engine? Who cares...as long as they are coming to help them. The flood-lights of the facility were turned on as well. A city worker who lived nearby had access to the lot. It was he who had turned on the power. The people cheered loudly and joyfully. They rushed into the lot in hopes of gaining access to water and toilet accommodations. The sirens of the distance had arrived. They encountered difficulty in getting into the facility due to the masses of people crowding all over. The police car had to slowly nudge its way into the yard because people simply would not move. The space occupied by the masses was limited. The parked trucks and other vehicles needed to be moved in order for all to fit into the sheltered area. More sirens were heard in the distance. They were headed toward the Washington Lane Transfer Station too.

Along with the arrival of more police, the National Guard managed to get there as well. They were stationed at a nearby base located near Broad Street and Olney Avenue, just down the street from 'Central High School.' The trucks were loaded with water, milk, and food. They also stocked supplies for the elderly, sick, nursing mothers, and babies. The people were relieved. They praised their rescuers and thanked God. Seeing all this newly arriving help, the people began to gather themselves while regaining their composure.
The second police car turned into the driveway as the people managed to get out of the way. Then the first truck was able to pass into the waiting yard. The people's cheering grew louder. The second truck began to turn into the drive when suddenly, it appeared as though the truck had set itself on fire...the ear-defeaning explosion sounded a split-second after the vehicle was alighted. Eerie sounding whistling was heard when the night-time became brightened with the brilliance of the alien invader's killer ray beams. It seemed as if everything began to explode all around us!
The police could do nothing with this surprise attack. The national guard were helpless as well. The ones who escaped the exploded vehicles ducked for cover like everyone else. The problem is, there was no cover to be had. People, young and old, police, and guardsmen alike, died. They were alighted, alluminated til you could see there skeletal bones, and burned into invisibility.
Three floating vessels descended upon us from what seemed like every direction. The death ray beams screamed as they evaporated dozens upon dozens of innocent and the not so innocent into oblivion. I managed to grab 'Dre' just as he was about to go down. The man next to him had been zapped into dust just like the one on the other side of him. Another was zapped just as I pulled 'Dre' to me. We once again found ourselves running away from certain death.
screaming and crying people dashed all about. People were being trampled to death while trying to escape the death-dealing machines. Me and Dre got down on our hands and knees and began to crawl away, under and over bodies that had not been zapped but killed by the maddened, frightened crowd of "chickens in a barrel!"
Somehow, we managed to crawl our way back out into the middle of Washington Lane and across the street into the parking lot along side the train station. A train zoomed into the station as people attempted to stop the speeding behemoth of shining shimmering mass of metal. Unfortunately, those that attempted could not bring the track dependent vehicle to a stop. They all died in their folly.
The speeding train not only did not stop, it was burning inside. The vehicle was fully engulfed in flames as the riders inside were heard screaming when it passed. A second train followed inside of fifteen minutes after the aforementioned death-ride. It too was fully engulfed in flames as it sped past us on the platform.

The invading death machines drew closer as we rolled over into the tracks after the burning train has passed. I pushed Dre further down the tracks and under the dark dirty muddy platform. I really didn't expect him to complain when he started to whine and cuss.

"Shut up fool...I'm trying to save both our lives!"

The death machines zapped all and any that it could find and/or see. One could only assume that the machines had annilhilated everyone due to the eerie quiet that followed the zapping noises. We could hear the familiar clanking, clunking, grinding, and stomping noise as the floating marauders floated off in search of new targets.
Miraculously, some of the people did survive the attack just outside of this station. It seems that everyone in the neigborhood didn't come out of their homes because they weren't all destroyed.
The sky-scrapper building tall spider-walking machine was still on location. It did something that we, Dre and I, were not aware of. All who were not killed in the attack of the three floating killer machines, were left behind for the walker-machine to pick up. Skullking along, it had these elongated octopuss-like feeler arms that reached out and grabbed people who were reeling from the attack of the floaters. These feeler-arms reached out and grabbed the stragglers, lifting them up high, and placing them in a basket-like recepticle or retainer. We could see this all happening from the cracks and splits under the train platform. We could see all of the activity on the Washington Lane and Chew Avenue intersection. Unfortunately, there were still a lot of people left to be had by the invaders from I don't know where.

We could hear the captured people screaming from above. The walker-machine rumbled as it moved, gathering up people who ran in any direction that seemed safe. Dre and I stayed put under the platform. When the walker-machine crashed and crumpled its way over and through the surrounding buildings and gas station, it walked over the train station twice, as though it were looking for us. The platform came crashing down on us. We were pinned under the wood, metal, plastic, and other materials of the construction. Somehow, the machine did not find us. It lumbered on through the woodlands surrounding the Washington Lane vacinity. The group of death dealers appeared to be headed for the Stenton Avenue neighborhoods.

Dre and I managed to free ourselves and crawl out from beneath the destroyed platform rubble. We were more thirsty than before. Our throats felt as it we'd swallowed concrete from all of the dust floating in the air. The dusty surroundings were like that of a bombed out war zone...like New York, the day the planes flew into the 'Twin Towers.' We looked like the people on television who all looked like walking zombies, covered in concrete, plaster, and dust from all of the destruction. We had no idea of what we were going to do. Upon gazing all about, we decided to go back across the street and see if we could dig up some water from the bombed out trucks.
Fortunately, we were succesful in attaining some unscathed bottles of water and scattered bits and pieces of food packages. We gorged ourselves on our new found delicacy. With cleared thoughts and a real sense of awareness for danger, we decided to make our way back to Walnut Lane in hopes of recovering something we could use to aid in our survival. Obviously, the new found fortune most certainly would not be enough to sustain us for God knows how long, in this vast wilderness. The first thing we had to do, after eating, is to rest up a bit. There's no way we were going to get any sleep. Sleep? Where would we, could we, go to get a good nights sleep? Sleep would certainly be an impossibility this horrible night.

The Sun was crossing the horizon when we awoke. I haven't a clue as to how we managed to sleep through all the carnage surrounding us during the night. Opening my eyes to a new day, it seems as though all this was simply a dream, a strange nightmare of sorts. My vision began to focus. Hell no. It was no ****ing dream.
Reaching out to my right, I shook Dre awake. He jumped up in one hell of a fright..."What the **** is going on Russell? Where in the **** are we Man? Where in the hell is everybody? Why are we lying under all this nasty ****?" "Ouch, ****!"
After bumping his head, Dre's memory, the reality of it all, returned and made him understand.

We crawled out from under the debris of the train station, and made our way back towards home. We stood and saw it all, a vast and sprawling nothing. Everything had been laid to waste. As far as the eye could see, there was utter and complete nothingness. There were several dead bodies lying about. They were probably the ones who didn't get or caught by the dangling octopus tenticles of the walking machines. Off in the distance, we could see a few of the walkers over in the direction of 'Chelten Avenue.' When we turned to look northward, in the direction of 'Mt. Airy,' we saw two of them walking about and continuing to reap in an unwary soul. The gaze east caught the eerie dust cloud of the ones that blew through here last night. We focused our gaze westward, up to the crest of the hill on Washington Lane, at 'Musgrave Street.' We saw only dust clouds from the destruction of homes and other buildings. Automobiles burned under the rubble as well. Gas-mains burned continually. Electric wires sparked and danced in every direction while they lay undaunted upon the blacktop roadways covered in ashe, burning wood, and other exposed building materials.

Dre and I walked up the hill on 'Belfield Avenue' past 'Tulpehocken Street' to the east side of 'Walnut Lane.' Pushing onward, up the hill of the lane, we finally arrived at the top, 'Morton Street.' Crossing Morton, the hill descended into the 'Germantown Avenue' corridor right after 'Baynton Steet' and the unit block of Walnut Lane; home.


Next...

Chapter 3: "Where Is Everybody?"


"The Fall of Light"
By
Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.
http://blackauthorsconnect.com/cgi-bin/blog.cgi?blog_id=327765&cid=10


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Til Next Time...



'G'

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Posted By: Gregory Boulware, Esq.
Friday, September 22nd 2017 at 12:01PM
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You got to make this a movie Brother Doctor Gregory Boulware, Esq. WOW!!!


Friday, September 22nd 2017 at 3:18PM
Deacon Ron Gray
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:-)

Many Thanks Bro. Deacon...wouldn't that really be something? I wonder if it could truly happen?

Peace,

'G'
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Monday, October 9th 2017 at 12:46AM
Gregory Boulware, Esq.
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