End Storm

By Maz Marik

End Storm is a horror novel that tells the story of a family separated following a mysterious and devastating event.

Robert McEwan works in a central London skyscraper, and watches in amazement at the scenes of mayhem unfolding on the ground. His first thought is to reach his family.

Emma McEwan and five-year-old Steven are caught up in the chaos. They rush to get home, only to find that their journey is far from over.

As they struggle to survive and reunite in the brutal new world, they find that the places they once knew are no longer safe, and many of the people they encounter are utterly, catastrophically transformed.

The novel runs to approximately 72000 words, and is the first episode in the End Storm Saga. The second book is scheduled for publication in early 2013.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Maz Marik
• Release date: Dec 9, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301312221

Maz Marik

Maz Marik is a horror author from England. Born in the small town of Threapwood, he grew up in the Midlands and has also lived in the USA, the Caribbean, Spain, Mexico, Turkey and Egypt.He currently lives in the south of England, a setting he has employed for his debut novel End Storm, which was published as an e-book at Amazon and Smashwords on December 1st 2012.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

All of a sudden his mother’s step quickened, her grasp on his hand tightening as she charged through the crowd of people. Steven looked around. He could see nothing but legs hurrying past him in all directions, some bumping into him, almost knocking him over; were it not for the vice-like grip of his mother’s hand he would surely have already fallen.

He realised he wasn’t walking, or running, but almost flying as he was dragged through the sea of people, all of the time unable to make out what his mother was shouting at him.

Mum! he called, but she did not reply, focusing instead on her battle to escape the mayhem they had entered. Before he could shout again, he noticed she had dropped her handbag as she pulled out her purse one-handed; he watched as the bag disappeared amongst the stampede, and in vain reached out a hand to grab it, but it was too late. Lost forever.

Over the heads of the crowd he caught glimpses of Croydon Clocktower, and he tried to work out the time. Something and one, he thought, as the tower went out of view; then he noticed the sky. It was different, a strange colour, and the clouds were gathering faster than he had ever noticed before. Dark grey clouds, almost black, in contrast to the bright white sky with flashes of red. Something was wrong.

Look at the sky, Mum! he said, before someone accidentally knocked into him, sending him flying around his mother like a pendulum on a clock.

She stopped, and stood him against the wall of a big building. "Now wait there, Steven, and do not move."

His mother pulled a bank card from her purse and disappeared into a small crowd. He could see nothing around him but people, young and old, running as fast as they could, some shouting, some crying, but all with fear in their expressions, and he was beginning to feel this fear too. A flock of birds flew high above his head; never had he seen so many together at once; then he noticed the sky again, and panicked and started to scream.

Mummy, Mummy, the sky is falling! Where are you, Mummy? Look at the sky! But his mother did not appear. He continued to shout.

Amidst the jostling, he bumped into an old man who knelt down and smiled at him. Hello young one. Don’t be scared. It’s time to be brave.

It made Steven less frightened to know he was not invisible to the world but still he shouted, The sky is falling! He pointed upwards.

The old man did not look towards where he was pointing but patted him on the head and said, You’ll be OK, don’t worry.

Steven stared right back into the old man’s eyes, then felt his hand squeezed again. He turned around and almost pulled away before realising it was his mother. Mummy, the sky is falling!

She glanced up and said, Don’t let go of my hand, sweetie. Steven turned to see the old man staring at the sky as they disappeared into the crowd.

CHAPTER TWO

The office tower was tall – fifty floors – and glistened as most glass high-rise buildings do, with the dull steel between floors distorting the reflection it offered to admiring onlookers. Although there were other impressive buildings nearby, the design of One Canada Square, and the shimmering mirror image it presented, gave it a certain quality which the older, smaller skyscrapers did not share.

On the thirteenth floor, Robert McEwan checked the time. Nearly half-past two. Thirty more minutes to finish typing up yet another dull report, and then to send the document to his boss. Thirty more minutes to wait before he could head home to his wife and son, and relax, knowing that the Easter weekend would be upon them. The trip to the campsite at Devil’s Dyke would be a welcome break from the comfortable but unchallenging monotony of his job.

Thirty more minutes. He looked around the office at his co-workers, all busily typing away except for Howard, who was drinking his coffee while watching the office television. He stood lazily with one hand on his hip, the other holding his mug.

What you watching, Howard? Robert asked. As it was Howard, he expected the answer to be some sports results, or a game show, or a far-out documentary.

Ah, it’s the news. Something’s going on, but the reception keeps dropping.

Robert wondered if his colleague had already finished for the day, and wished he were in the same position.

Howard languidly wandered over to him and sat down. Something wrong with the TV, but hey, who gives a shit? I’ll be home in an hour and can watch as much TV as I like over the weekend. It’s not as if I have any plans. You’re off camping again, right?

Yeah, Devil’s Dyke with my wife and little one. She likes the fresh air and I love lying down with Steven and gazing up at the stars. I heard it might rain though. A storm last time I looked; but we might get one or two clear nights.

Rising from his seat, Howard smiled. Well, I hope the weather holds out for you, but you can give me a good TV over camping any day of the week. Talking of which, I’m gonna try to fix this relic. He walked back to the television and Robert watched him as he fiddled with the dials and cables. He glanced at the clock again. Thirty more minutes, he thought.

I don't know why you bother, to be honest. The amount of crap you watch is second to none, Robert said, grinning.

Howard laughed, and replied, Not crap, dear boy, but mere fact.

Sure, the Yeti in Canada. The Loch Ness monster in Scotland. Aliens travelling millions of light years to come and hide from us. Don't you ever watch the news or anything serious?

Ah, the news. Well, funnily enough I do watch the news. Every few weeks they report sightings of giant cats, strange lights in the sky, unexplained things in general. I tell you, the aliens are out there.

Robert shrugged. All fake. Must be. Just a few weeks ago you tried to tell me about a super virus that would knock out Tokyo! And the giant wave that was heading across the Atlantic to wipe out the Eastern shore of America!

"Well, OK, some of the things may be hoaxes, but I doubt all of them are. We know antibiotics are weakening the human immune system, we know giant waves have pounded the Earth's shorelines before, we know that new creatures are discovered every day. And there are so many sighting of UFOs, there must be something in it." He sounded like he was almost pleading with Robert to believe him.

It did not work. Why would anyone believe in these things when there is absolutely no proof? I enjoy watching it as entertainment, as fiction, but not treating it as fact! I think I prefer it when you stick to your game shows and celebrity gossip!

Billions of people are religious, Howard countered, and believe in a God without any need for proof. I'm telling you, man, the aliens are out there. And the super virus is just a matter of time. Tokyo will bite the dust, if the giant wave doesn’t get there first. He chuckled to himself, another few minutes successfully wasted.

Well, Robert said, I did like that one documentary about the UFO sightings and ancient Egypt, but the one about the politicians being lizards is surely a joke. Howard shrugged.

Sighing, Robert resumed typing. He had almost finished the first report when the screen went black and all the lights in the office went out. Shit, he muttered, and tried switching the computer back on. Nothing happened. Have we had a cut?

I think so, I have nothing either, somebody responded. Although the lights were out, the late afternoon glow filtering through the blinds was sufficient to light the office and its occupants clearly, so Robert stood up and looked around. Most people were sitting at their desks, seemingly waiting for the power to come back on, but others were packing their things, delighted to have an excuse to waste any time left until the shift ended.

Twenty-five minutes. He noticed Howard was still standing by the television, now with a blank screen, and was moving his mobile phone in the air, trying to get a signal.

Does anyone have a signal on their phones? Howard asked. A handful of people checked, but all seemed unsuccessful, even those who tried walking around the office with their phones in the air.

The noise level in the room rose as people talked amongst themselves about power cuts, phone signals, and the fact that the lift would be out of order until power was resumed, meaning a long walk down the stairs from the nineteenth floor.

Robert was not really listening to the conversations around him. Instead, he walked across to Howard, almost instinctively trying the television switch as he passed, hopelessly aware it would not turn on. How long do these power cuts last?

Power cuts shouldn’t knock down phone signals, Howard said. Something was on the news. I couldn’t make out what it was, but it seemed like a lot of people were agitated. He paused. Wait, maybe we can get something on the radio. He strode off in the direction of his desk.

Without power? How are you going to get that to work?

Howard stopped, and grinned at him again. Batteries. I use it for when the football is on and the boss is here. He rummaged through a drawer and located a small portable radio amidst a whole load of junk.

Robert watched the other office workers while he waited. A crowd of people were standing by the clocking out meter, still talking animatedly, although it seemed more light-hearted than before. He could understand that: the power cut was a blessing, and an excuse to do nothing more in the office.

His focus returned to Howard. His friend’s short, receding brown hair made him look older than the mid-thirties he actually was, and although his physique was slightly less than athletic, his unique fashion sense always made him look like a homeless guy who had found a suit and would wear it proudly regardless of how poorly it fit.

Howard placed the radio on his desk like a trophy, before turning it on. They listened as he moved the dial, trying to find a station amidst the high-pitched interference and crackling. Occasionally they would hear something that sounded like talking, but not clearly enough to make out what was being said.

He continued to move the dial, then stopped as he found the best signal yet. It still was not clear, but every few seconds they heard some talking, then a few bleeps, some interference, and then more talking again. They listened carefully, leaning in close towards the radio.

Frowning, Howard said, Hmm. I think I heard something about ‘heat’ and ‘the sky’.

Robert said, I thought it said ‘don’t overheat the pies’.

Howard laughed. Well, whatever it was, we have no power, and no phone or radio signal. Robert took his phone out of his pocket, and checked the signal. Still nothing.

While Howard wandered over to the window, Robert checked the time again. Just under fifteen minutes to go. He checked his phone again.

Would you look at that! Howard said, in a tone which immediately caught Robert’s attention. He saw Howard peering through the blinds and walked over to join him. Outside, the familiar cityscape was overshadowed by the hollow glow of the strangely coloured sky.

Robert opened the blinds completely to get a better view. For a moment he was hypnotised by the sky’s unusual reddish hue, before noticing the black clouds whirling around at a chaotic pace and, oddly, in no coherent pattern. In the street below, traffic was at a standstill and people hurried about in every direction. A few helicopters hovered above. Despite the movement of the clouds, there seemed to be very little wind. The litter on the streets was not whirling around as it did when a storm was raging, and the trees in the park seemed relatively still, in contrast to the people scurrying around them.

By now, all the office workers were staring out of the windows in complete silence. All eyes were focused on the bewildering scene. The clouds, the strange sky, the apparent mayhem.

Robert turned to Howard. Listen, Howard, I’m going. Could you clock out for me? Emma is visiting her mother with Steven. I need to head over, see they are safe.

Sure, be careful out there, Howard replied, still transfixed by the chaos outside. Robert turned to leave but Howard continued, "Oh, and if this is the end of the world, I just want to get my I told you so in first."

Laughing, Robert ran to the exit and headed down the stairs.

CHAPTER THREE

They had reached the edge of the town, and Emma was still holding Steven’s hand, although with a somewhat gentler grip now. The mass of people was not as dense as in the bustling centre and the noise levels had decreased. The screaming and shouting had, for now, ceased altogether.

She stopped and looked at Steven. His blue t-shirt was wet with sweat, not all of it his own. She realised she too was drenched. His face showed a mixture of confusion and fear, mouth slightly open as if preparing to ask an important question.

I’m scared, Mummy, he said.

Don’t be. It’ll be OK, Steven. We’re going to meet Daddy and everything will be OK.

What about Grandma? She’s still stuck at her house.

Emma bit her lip. Upon seeing the storm clouds brewing in the sky they had said their farewells and made a dash for the train. At the time, her mother seemed happy to see them on their way, but now the whole situation was a lot worse.

They had crammed into a sweating, heaving carriage at Balham station, but by the time they reached East Croydon the tannoy announced no more trains were running, while security guards and police cleared the raging mob from the platforms. Judging by the crowds still gathered outside the station, travelling onwards by rail was no longer an option. The roads were gridlocked, cars left abandoned, engines running, with barely an inch between one bumper and the next for miles on end. Even on the outskirts of Croydon, few cars were moving. Walking seemed the safest means to get anywhere, even though home was still nearly ten miles further south.

She tried to be optimistic. Didn’t Grandma say she had someone coming for her? She’s probably having tea and cakes with her friends right now. Don’t worry.

He did not reply. Like her, he was breathing deeply and heavily.

Emma knew the way home well. She had often cycled back from work when the weather was fine, and she knew they were taking the fastest route. She ran her fingers through Steven’s hair, and knelt down so she was at his level. Her heart played a drumbeat in her ear, and she could feel that she was hot, almost radiating heat, but she knew she had to carry on. Keep going, Emma, she thought.

Come on, Steven, she said, kissing his still troubled face, not long left now.

CHAPTER FOUR

Robert reached the lobby and headed out through the main doors. He stopped, amazed at the number of people charging through the familiar streets, and was briefly lost in the moment as the noise level hit him.

He searched for another route, a way around the chaos, but knew every direction would be the same; the only way was to step out onto the pavement. He watched the faces hurrying past and waited for a small gap to appear amongst them.

An opening appeared, maybe only a few inches between one person and the next. He pushed himself into the crush of people and was instantly dragged along. He fought against it, realising he had no control over where he was being taken, like a swimmer in a choppy sea.

A knee from the person behind struck his lower back. Had there been space he would have keeled over, but instead he kept his balance and waited for an opportunity to escape the crowd.

He felt another jolt in the back and almost tripped, his face smashing into the back of someone’s head. Managing to free his arms from his sides he felt for blood; his face was dry but for the sweat forming on his brow. Then, over the heads of the people in front, he saw the edge of a building. A small service road ran between two skyscrapers and, although he had never ventured down it, he knew it was his best chance.

Fighting to hold his position close to the wall, he checked around him again. Nothing but people, nothing but screaming.

He felt his footing go and managed to hold on to a stranger in front of him before glancing down and realising he had tripped on a body. She was maybe in her early twenties, but was dead for sure; there was nothing he could do. He averted his eyes.

The air was being squeezed out of him, and the thought crossed his mind that if he stayed there, he would fall unconscious and suffer the same fate as the young girl.

Finally, he reached the service road and scrambled across to the edge of the building. He watched as it approached then hurled himself out of the main street and into the small dingy gap. He stumbled slightly as he glanced around, confused and disorientated. There were still people around, but not as tightly packed.

Stopping to catch his breath, he tried to think of the quickest way home. It had to be by foot. As he plotted a route, mindful of the fact that the side streets would provide better protection from the crowds, he jogged towards the end of the road where it opened out towards Millwall Park. His mind began to spin.

He had almost reached the grassy area when he saw a middle-aged man sitting against a wall. Blood trickled down his exhausted face. Robert knelt down by him, and asked, Are you OK? Do you know what the hell is going on?

The man shook his head. It went crazy about an hour ago. Something happened in the sky, something happened in the ocean, something happened in the streets. Some bloke told me aliens had arrived, and another fella told me a war had started. I don’t know, one person even told me an asteroid was heading for Earth. All I know is people are dead, everywhere.

Robert stood up, trying to take this in. Is he crazy? The man sat with his head in his hands. If I can get help, I will make sure it comes to you. Just stay here, it’s much safer than in the main street. The man didn't acknowledge him but Robert was sure he had heard. He moved on.

The park area was the same as the side street. There was more of a crowd than normal, but it was at least manageable. Not impossible, but not exactly a walk in the park, thought Robert. There was a slight incline, and from the highest point he knew he would be able to see which routes were blocked off and which were accessible. He hurriedly made his way to the top. Despite the loud shouts and screams of those he passed on his way up, it was still almost impossible to make out their words because of the noise from the main street.

He reached the summit. Apart from a few people dashing here and there, the park was fairly quiet. Away from the city centre, the road he needed to take was bustling with people, but was not as bad as he had expected. The sky was still an unnatural colour, and its strange illumination reminded Robert of the glow of fog lit by distant car headlights.

A glance in the opposite direction showed more of what he had just left behind. The main streets gelled together, and the concentration of people was frightening. He was pleased he did not have to head for that side of town.

He inhaled deeply and looked back toward the side street. He could barely see the wounded man, but there he was, still sitting in the same place.

Suddenly, a bright light blinded him and he cowered on the ground, covering his eyes. The screaming of the people in the streets seemed to stop, just for a second, before a sound like a huge explosion rocked him onto his side. The ground trembled. He opened his eyes and, through a gap between his fingers, looked towards the city. The noise and the shaking had caused him to lose his bearings, but he eventually managed to focus.

A huge cloud of dust and smoke was bellowing out of the city. He watched as it raged towards him, engulfing everything in its path. The injured man sitting in the alleyway

Reviews for End Storm

[catya77 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

James, his dad, and Mr Shah are going about their daily lives when things take an unexpected turn, and people begin attacking each other. What is going on? How and who will survive?An action packed and detailed narrative grace the pages of this short story introducing readers to the tale's environment and some of the characters. Authentic and varied characters fill the story with the promise of potential additional development in future episodes.Overall, a fun read.