Countdown Until the End of the World (2 page)

“They’re not home,” he gasped. “I don’t know where they are.”

Miraculously, my mobile rang again. We both ran into the lounge and I picked it up.

“Fran? How did you—“

Her voice was faint, and was even worse than Roger’s had been before. “Simon—“

“Fran! Are you okay?”

“We tried – getting to you – but someone crashed into us – oh god, Simon, he’s not breathing, he’s not breathing—“

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I heard her start screaming Roger’s name, as the world had already ended for her. The line cut out – I don’t know whether it had dropped out or she had just hung up.

“What is it?” Dec asked.

“Roger and Fran aren’t going to make it.”

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There are some things that doomsday just has to wait for. And that’s skin against skin, kisses that should last forever, that last full-on intimacy with the person you love as your bodies fit together one more time, whispered
I love you
s and those last five minutes of lying together, naked, fully exposed both physically and emotionally, and letting the tears come as you hold each other.

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In the end, it is only Dec and I on the roof, with our pitiful supplies should we survive the end of the world. We don’t know where everybody else in the building has gone, but there is utter panic on the streets below. The traffic is gridlocked, people are screaming and running in every direction.

Nobody knows where to go. I can see other people on the tops of buildings, having had the same idea we did. There is nothing left to do but wait.

Dec and I sit on the ledge of the roof, our feet dangling high above the ground. I should be scared, but I’m not. Maybe it would be a blessing if we both fell now, holding hands all the way down.

As it is, we still hold out hope. There is nothing more to say. We sit without words, but rely upon touch. We never stop touching each other, whether it is holding hands or resting our heads on each other’s shoulders, or kissing just to remind ourselves we’re still alive.

For now.

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The screams escalate. On the edge of the bay we can see the wave coming. It is bigger than we imagined, so much bigger. I think it is bigger than our apartment building.

Dec and I stand, retreating from the edge of the roof, still holding hands.

“Don’t let go,” he tells me.

“I never have.”

He gives me a brilliant smile, but there are tears in his eyes.

Buildings begin to fall, and they are taller than ours. Others are swamped by the water. A shadow begins to pass over us, and I feel Dec’s grip tighten on me as I begin to scream and---

All is silence.

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I am still yelling as I leap out of bed, terrified. I thump against the wall and fall to the floor.

The light is switched on, and Dec is by my side.

“What the fuck?” he asks. “Are you okay?”

I am still unable to speak. All I can do is grab him and hold him close.

“Those fucking documentaries,” he muttered, his warm breath comforting against the sweat on my forehead. “I told you.”

“I think it was the cheese,” I finally managed to say. “They say you should never eat cheese before bed.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “That was probably it.”

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Neither Nyssa, Roger or Fran were impressed that I had called them to make sure they were alive. Dec had gotten on the phone after I had allowed myself to experience the reality of their voices and made placating noises. But I was still on the edge of that hysteria only borne from a vivid nightmare that will never allow you to sleep again until you have convinced yourself that it was all just a dream.

We were now having a beer in the kitchen. Alcohol was the only thing I thought would soothe me again, and it took a couple for me to get through the details.

“So let me get this straight,” Dec said, hiding a burp behind the back of his hand. “You saved Maggie from an awful death by erasing her entire existence from your dream, but you gave horrific Hollywood-like deaths to your friends and loved ones?”

“It’s not my fault!”

“It was your dream, and it says a lot.”

“Thanks, Dec. Let’s focus on the big issues, here.”

He started counting them off on his fingers. “One, a drowned Nyssa. Two, a suicidal Mrs.

Gupti. Three, Roger killed in a car crash. Four, Fran presumably drowned. Our families, who knows what. And then finally, you and me on a building toppling into the ocean.”

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“At least we were together.”

“That’s nice.”

“And Mrs. Gupti said I was a good man. Finally.”

“Now, there’s a sneaky bit of wish fulfilment contained within a dream.” He couldn’t help but grin.

“Aha!” I said, triumphantly. “I
knew
she hated me!”

“She doesn’t hate you. She just… likes you less than me.”

“Oh, she
loves
you.”

Dec reached across the kitchen counter and took my hand in both of his. “It was just a dream.

The world isn’t going to end.”

“I know that.” And I did, but it didn’t make the dream any less unsettling.

“Unless of course, it was a prophetic dream.”

“You can shut up now, Dec.”

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“I guess we’ll find out in a few hours…”

“You really can stop now.”

“Let’s get you back to sleep. Christmas is in a couple of days, and you should be dreaming of that. Of visions of sugarplums, and jolly St. Nick.”

“That does sound a lot better.”

We finished our beers, and made our way back to bed. I scooped up Maggie and nestled her in close between us. In the darkness, with my family, I felt a little more at ease.

“Hey, Simon?”

“Yes?”

“I’ll be with you until the end of the world.”

“Same.”

It was approximately five hours until doomsday…

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AUTHOR’S NOTE

This is basically a crack!fic that was born over a get together with my good friend Kris only a couple of days ago. Over your typical end-of-the-world Christmas conversation, Kris asked for a special Christmas gift extra – how Simon and Declan would experience the apocalypse. It is a bizarre concept, and one we had many giggles over. Writing it, however, was a much harder thing. Am I ruining the
Tigers and Devils
world by writing it, and releasing it for you to read?

I hope not, and I hope you take it in the spirit it is meant to be taken – one crazy night in the world of Simon Murray, when his dreams are affected by the documentaries he has had to collect and watch for work. Like another gay icon who awakens in the real world after such a bizarre dream, in which “you were there, and you, and you”, Simon is comforted by everything being put to rights.

So that is all this is.

Unless of course… as I write this, it is officially one day until the apocalypse.

I hope I am still here to continue writing in a couple of days. And that you all are here as well.

SK

20th December, 2012