Melani Schweder - 72 Hours till Doomsday

Gregor looked up from his desk, craning to see outside the double glass doors. He was sure he’d heard something. Supplying power to South London wasn’t necessarily a hard job, but one didn’t really appreciate its importance until a time of national crisis. Their phones were ringing nonstop, a cacophony of shrill clanging noises, mostly government officials or concerned citizens. They’d finally had to turn off the television set earlier that morning because everyone was too distracted by what appeared to be an impending doomsday. A quarter of their staff had refused to show up, only adding to the atmosphere of stress and panic. But nothing could have prepared them for that afternoon. Prepared them to face what was approaching those double glass doors.

At first, he’d thought that perhaps someone had forgotten to turn off a radio set, so he prowled around the office for the offending appliance. But as he did, the sound proceeded to get louder, an arresting mix of thumping, metallic clanking of some kind, and human-sounding vocalizations. It stuffed into his ear canals like cotton, drowning out everything else, driving him mad. Then as he was about to sit back down in his chair, the static crackle of a security two-way:

“Dispatch. This is Battersea Water and Power. We are being approached by a riot mob. Weapons are visible. Proceeding to security lockdown. Requesting backup.”

It was Charlie. Perched at his station between the doors. A few neighboring heads popped up above the partitions, their eyes frantic with unanswered questions. They all heard the heavy locks clunk down in place in the atrium. The inner set of doors whooshed open. There was a tinge of pink panic in the face that appeared.

“Everyone listen up. We’ve got visitors. Let’s run through terrorist security lockdown. Managers find your teams. This isn’t a drill this time, people. Let’s go.”

Margie at the reception desk made an audible squeak before diving behind her desk, grabbing her purse, and darting out to join the rest of them. Gregor was only responsible for five others, but it was difficult to round them up with everyone craning for a view of the approaching mob.

“Blue team, come on! Get away from the windows! Owen, Libby, let’s go! Now!”

Finally, their group of six was gathered. He led them down the long corridor towards the generator room where there were cages in which to hide, and plenty of noise to cover their tracks, not to mention sharp and heavy objects to protect themselves with.

He hoped it didn’t have to come to that. As he swung open the cold metal door, the whirr of the generators overwhelmed him. It was like being inside a hive of angry bees. The buzzing vibrated down into their very bones. He directed his team, now clamped silent with fear, to follow the right hand wall to the cages in the darkened back corner. He still had to secure the doors. He knew better than to trust the automatic locks; even as he heard them click into place, a red flashing light above bearing witness to their supposed safety. Gregor picked up a heavy chain and wound it through the handles, grabbing a small shaft of pipe to act as a padlock. It would at least buy them some time.

“Turn your phones on silent. Don’t give us away,” he said, pulling the grate closed behind him.

The others fumbled in their pockets and purses, pressing buttons with shaking fingers. He pulled out his own set, dialed Anna’s number, dying to check in with the other teams. With every ring that passed, his heart dumped lower and lower in his chest. Finally she answered.

“Greg, that you?” He let out a relieved exhale.

“Yep. You guys okay?”

“Yeah. We’re in the control room under the desks.”

“Can you hear anything? It’s too loud down here.”

“I only know they’re inside. They shot through the doors just before we got down the hall. Oh, Greg, what do they want? Why are they here?”

“I don’t know Anna. Taking control of the power supply is a pretty big task, but if they can do it, then all of South London is in serious trouble. That must be their angle.”

“Shit. Well, we grabbed the hard drives from all the computers before we got out. Hopefully that stalls them.”

“Good thinking. Hey, did you contact the green team yet?”

“No, let me pull Liam up on the line with us.”

“Hello?” A shaky whisper.

“Hello, Liam? It’s Anna.”

“Anna. Hi. You okay?”

“Yes. Did you get your team out yet?”

“We’re close. We managed to put in all the required calls, and we were halfway down the west hall when shots were fired. We’re hiding in the storage closet. There’s only three of us.”

“Did you see if anyone was hurt?” Gregor asked, “Charlie? Is he okay?”

“I don’t know, man. I didn’t see anything, just heard the gun go off. It was loud, lots of people were shouting.”

“Christ. What can you hear now?”

“It sounds like they’re combing the cubicles. There’s at least ten of them, probably more. Two or three guys that sound like they’re in charge. They noticed the hard drives were missing. Whose idea was that?”

“Mine,” affirmed Anna.

“Smart. Pissed ‘em off. But smart.”

“Are you going to be able to make it to the exit?”

“Don’t know. Let’s see.”

The phone went quiet for a moment; only the sound of his breathing came through. He was opening the storage room door.

“I don’t see anyone. Oh, wait. Yep. There’s two near the front,” he whispered, “but everyone else is gone. They’re probably heading your way, Greg. It’s the biggest hallway.”

He felt the fear grip his throat. “We’re ready.”

“I think we’re going to try for the back doors while we have the chance. I’m going to leave my phone on, but putting it in my pocket. Okay?”

“Good luck, Liam.”

“Be safe, everyone.”

Then everything muffled over, like they’d been dropped into a tank of water. They could hear whispers, shuffling, the sounds of rustling and fabrics and the squeak of a rubber sole, then a loud rhythmic rushing sound. He must be running.

Suddenly, there was a metallic clunk; they’d reached the door. Then came the sounds of air, gravel being thrown aside as they moved, sirens from far away. Gregor had to remind himself to breathe he was so engrossed in listening. There were more rushing noises and two indiscernible shouts. Then a loud scratching noise.

“Guys? You there?”

“Yes!” Anna and Gregor breathed in unison.

“We’ve just made it out, but it was close. I think someone saw us. We’re going to keep running. I’m getting another call. Gotta go.”

“Wait!”

The other line went dead. Anna sighed.

“Greg, keep me on the line, okay?”

“Yes. But I’m going to put you in my pocket too. We’ve got to round up some pipes or something.”

“Okay.”

“Hey.”

“What?”

“It’ll all be over soon, Anna.”

“Yeah.”

Gregor slid his mobile into his front khaki pocket and turned to face his companions.

“Okay. They might be heading our way. I’m going to go out and look for anything we can arm ourselves with. Arthur, you come with me. You four stay here. Owen, if they come through those doors,” he pointed, “lock this gate. Keep yourselves safe. Got it?”

“You’re barking mad if you think I’d just leave you two out there.”

“Owen. Come on. It’s protocol.”

“Well, fuck protocol.”

“Jesus. Fine. Just stay here for now.”

The two men slid the rolling cage door just wide enough to squeeze through, flicking on their phone flashlights to illuminate the concrete floor. He knew there was a tool bag somewhere over towards the wall, feeling his way along the scratchy bricks. Finally his toe slammed against something.