CARISSA DIXON - SHOCK

Carissa Dixon is a writer of fiction works for various media platforms. She graduated from Full Sail University in early 2021 with a BFA in Creative Writing. 
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Shock
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​             Sara watched the time on the upper corner of the company phone, she refreshed the TimeClock page and clocked out at 6 AM exactly. She slipped on her pink backpack and headed out of the breakroom to the lobby.
            Patrick waved, "Sleep good, see you tonight."
            "Yeah, have a good morning."
            The city sky darker than usual, with a dingy gray. Sara knew the public train line right next to work would not come for another half hour, so it surprised her to see the yellow line train waiting. She jogged over to get onto the train before the doors could close, happy she took a seat. With no other patrons on, not even the homeless who frequently took up multiple seats to sleep. Sara put in headphones, ready to listen to music till she needed to switch trains again.
            A full song length later, with the train doors still open and had not left the stop. Sara sighed, too good to be true to possibly be home by seven. She left the train and headed down her standard route to another train stop. She suspected the squirrels she usually saw when crossing through the parks were hid away for the chance of rain. She still left a few pieces of bread leftover from her work lunch last night. Shadows of the tall city buildings made the streets dark like late evening instead of early morning.
            Sara made it to a Red line and a Blue line train stop at half-past six. She declined a video call from her mother and older sister as she headed for the convenience store next to the stop. Dimly lit she peeked her head into the store.
            "Hello? Are you open?" Sara called.
            No answer was given. Impossibly silent; she never imagined a convenient story would feel so still. She checked the time and wondered what had the trains delayed. She returned to the stop and glanced up the street tracks. Sara felt relieved seeing the flash of police lights a block up. Movement at the edge of her vision, and she looked to the convenient store's glass door. For a moment, she thought for sure someone had filled the doorway, but it was empty as she stared.
            No other nudge needed for her to start her walk up the street to the Square, where all train lines stopped. If she could catch a train home, it would be from there. Sara quickly crossed streets without waiting for the walk signs to change as no drivers seemed to be out. The police car seemed empty as she got closer. The lights still flashed quietly, with the passenger door ajar. Sara only saw one figure out. Not a cop, surely a cop would not be looming under the canopy of a closed store with his patrol car still running on the street.
            A low persistent ringing pulled her attention to the phone store she was passing. The majority of the window glass lay scattered on the ground. Few furniture pieces were removed from the store and into the street as the store alarm continued. Sara glanced back to where she had seen someone. She quickly keep walking when she saw they were gone.
            Many of the stores she passed had nothing but ragged shards clinging to the edges of the windows. Items from stores littered the streets, and there were signs of scorching on building walls or parked cars. She saw another figure outside the next store on the block she was on, and she refused to take her eyes off. The person, like an ink, cut out of a body; its edges seemed to flow like liquid. She had a feeling that if she touched it, she would not find something solid.
            Sara pulled her phone out and joined the Facebook video call with her mother and sister. When she looked up for the figure, she did not find it.
            "Oh! There's my other child," her mom said.
             "You have been off for like an hour, are you still on your way home?" asked her sister Carson.
            "The trains…I don't know, they are not running or something."
            Sara turned and speed-walked down a block and headed back up. She looked for moving vehicles of open stores, she found pieces of Them. There were multiple of them, the inky figures. She would catch small glimpses of them walking behind buildings or cars, in the ransacked stores between shelf rows.
            "Honey, what is wrong?" her mom asked.
            "I am being followed, and I can't get out of the city! I can't make it all the way home on foot," Sara said with a tight voice.
            "Do you have pepper spray? You should call the cops if someone isn't leaving you alone," Carson said as she soothed her two-year-old.
            Sara felt like on had to be right behind her. She imagined the tall skinny form not needing to walk and just reappearing closer to her. She heard her mom's voice rising, and Sara could tell the emotion in her voice was a mix of anger and fear. Sara shifted her phone to have a view over her shoulder to see just how close those things were.
            "Sara, talk to us now. You need to call the cops-" her mom started.
            "There! Did you see the thing that went behind that car so fast?"
            "I didn't see anything. What does the person look like?" Carson asked.
            Sara opened her mouth, but what could she tell them. The further into downtown she went, the more damage was done. Dark thick lines of liquid marked the buildings she passed. She could not make any sense out of the marks and patterns that slowly seeped down the walls.
            "Can you call the police while on call with us?" her mom asked.
             She looked back to the video call, and over her shoulder was another glimpse of a thing standing in the center of the street.
            "That thing! Standing in the street, do you see it?" Sara asked.
             Carson slowly shook her head, and Sara gritted her teeth and started to run. A few more blocks and she would be at the Square. Her only logical hope of getting home.
            "Sara, you are really scaring me. Please call someone."
            She nodded vigorously as her breath was ragged and erratic from the run. The worried face of her mom and concerned look of her sister temporarily froze on her screen when she ended her part of the call. She swiped through to her dial pad but could not bring herself to call. The numbers were gone, strange swirls replaced them. On the sides of her tear blurred vision, she saw walls of the inky black forms. They lined the street; she ran down in rows.
             The rapid, high-pitched hammer-like ring filled her ears. Her chest swelled in relief, hearing the annoying ring of an incoming train. The bliss of knowing one was still working gave Sara a second wind. Color and light seemed to slowly spread back into her vision. The figures that had just been closing in were missing.
            The public train slowed to a stop on the street of the Square. The green line opened its doors, and she stormed into past the sliding doors. A broken sob of joy caught in her throat, seeing several people seated on the train. She watched out the doors down the long city streets for inky fluid shapes till the doors shut, and the train bell rang. Sara wiped the water from her eyes, with shaky legs and breath she took a seat. Next to her was a man dressed in a nice pressed button-up shirt.
            "A security guard," he sighed "You must have had a rough night with all the looting last night,"
            Sara looked at him and glanced at her phone. The dial pad still waited with all the right and rational numbers.
             "I didn't know anything happened."
            He "hmmed' as he looked at her. "It's why the city is a mess. Put most of the trains out of order till tracks are cleared."
            Sara nodded and sank further into her seat. She glanced out the train window and saw people out clearing the streets of debris, boarding up broken windows, and scrubbing graffiti from the buildings. The train crossed the river out of the city, she texted her mother and sister that all was well again.