Fragments: The Survival Series, #2

By Chris Wright

Brandon started his day as normal, but suddenly, without warning, everything changed. The world around him began to dissolve away, threatening to dissolve him with it. All he can do is run to try and stay alive, a futile effort, until Danny calls him. How does Danny know what he knows? Who is the mysterious 'Auton'? Why are Brandon and his friends all in danger? And why is reality, as they know it, falling apart and ripping up the rule book of what is considered 'normal'? Gradually, the world is invaded by impossible creatures, and there seems to be no way to stop them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chris Wright
• Release date: Jan 9, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393753766

Chris Wright

Chris Wright is a young author who enjoys reading and is keen to share this joy with others. He lives in England, but he grew up in a small village in Hampshire. He wants to inspire young readers with his tales of a simpler time, outside among nature.

Book preview

Prologue

The sky was clear, the sun radiating its light across the urban landscape, causing ordinarily dull grey buildings to light up and shimmer like they were made of gold. Summertime in Old Mountfort was always a gleeful time, and its inhabitants sprung forth from inside their winter hideaways to make the most of the few warm months, while they could. Brandon loved this time of year, as he couldn’t stand the cold of the winter, or the wet soggy mess that counted for spring and autumn. This was the time of year when he felt truly alive and ready for anything. He always thought he would be ready for whatever life threw at him, but today, life had decided he was wrong, so very wrong.

It started out like any normal weekend morning in the summer. He woke up, crunched through his breakfast cereal, caught up with the local and International news, and then went for his early walk. That’s where life decided to slap him across his far too happy sun-drenched face. There were screams in the distance, desperate cries echoing towards him. He squinted in the bright sunshine to see what was happening, struggling to make sense of what was going on. Scores of people seemed to be running towards him, the screams getting louder and louder, bouncing around Brandon’s skull and causing him to wince. The terrified people continued to run towards him, ever faster and more desperate. He quickly turned around and began to run too, not sure why, not sure where to, but it seemed to be the thing everyone else was doing, so why should he question it?

As quick as his legs would take him, he raced down the street, still confused, and oddly terrified as he didn’t have any idea what was happening. Was it a terror attack? An approaching tornado? A madman on the loose? He didn’t have time to ask any more questions in his befuddled mind before he saw James sat in a coffee shop across the street. With an extra spring forward, Brandon darted over and crashed through the door, knocking it partially off its hinges, where he was met with thirty surprised coffee drinkers, stopping them all mid-sip. He rushed over to James while trying to form a sentence that would make some sense, but only muttered a series of spluttered vowels.

Brandon James said surprised, What’s wrong?

Brandon pointed outside; still trying to find the right words to describe what was going on, which was impossible as he didn’t know, and his brain cells made sure that they told him that. James quickly stood up, as did everyone else who had been interrupted while reading their morning newspapers, and they strode towards the window. The street was filled with people running and screaming, desperately trying to get away from something. Whatever they were running from was headed in their direction, which was the cue for the coffee shop customers to crash out the half-hinged door and join in the stampede to freedom. Brandon and James decided that the same action was probably a good idea, and left the coffee shop in the same haste. Outside, the terrified screams continued unabated as everyone ran in the same direction, away from whatever the danger was, with Brandon and James joining the crowd of confused runners. As they lurched forward, afraid for their lives, they both felt a force seeming to tug at the back of their shoulders, like gravity had been switched around. It felt like they were falling to the ground from the sky, yet the sky was above them, so it didn’t make any sense.

There was a loud crunching sound that started behind them, gradually increasing in volume and intensity, mirroring the pull of the strange new gravity, when all of a sudden, any forward momentum ceased. They tried to continue running, as did everyone, but their bodies wouldn’t obey, the new force of gravity was stopping them from moving in any direction other than what ‘it’ wanted. Brandon managed to turn around to see what was pulling him so violently, James quickly doing the same. There in front of them was a strange vortex, a gateway it seemed, to this new gravity that swirled, and was pulling everything towards it. The buildings, the road, the cars, the sky; nothing was able to escape the new gravity’s incessant grip. Brandon and James’s thoughts became confused, as if someone was trying to reverse their actions, not just now, but always. Every thought they had ever had was being pulled out from somewhere deep in the recesses of their minds and being flung away into the vortex. It happened slowly at first, and everyone was able to battle it, bringing their thoughts back to the present and their current situation, but eventually the pull became too much. Then, for one brief moment, there was stillness. It was fleeting, but also felt eternal, an infinity that was always there, behind daily life. A moment away from the mindless chatter in their brains, a simple elegant thought that they were all connected to. It made the absurdity of their situation disappear for that brief eternal moment; before their thoughts began to be reversed and grabbed once again by the vortex. Every moment of everyone’s lives, every thought they had ever held began playing backwards.

The vortex retreated, and as it did so, it embraced everyone and everything around it, throwing them into reverse gear. Everything now seemed to get faster and faster, with everyone running backwards, replaying their previous moments back to front. The confusion overtook all other things going through Brandon and James’ minds. They were aware that their lives had been hijacked by the vortex and that they were quickly re-doing everything they had ever done, but backwards. They could see everything regressing, returning to how it had once been. They re-lived their childhoods, quickly, fleetingly, aware of both their thoughts at that time, their reversed thoughts and the confusion of encountering both; all the while helpless to fight the pull. They regressed further, to the point where they had never met, and beyond, back to birth. They re-encountered the warmth and comfort of their mother’s womb. Their mothers regressed too, pulled by the same force as their offspring, and onward through generations. The Earth eventually wound itself back through every epoch and eventually crumbled into disparate rocks colliding and un-swirling themselves, disappearing into a cloud of dust. The solar system danced itself backwards into a mass of other confused solar systems, spinning back into the welcoming arms of their nebulous creators.  The nebulae disappeared away into a searing heat of primordial particles, the ever-decreasing universe collapsing down to a point that was impossible to measure, crunching itself down to nothing.

The universe was a strange place, but it wasn’t always like this.

Chapter One – The Runner

Brandon awoke slowly, his radio alarm slowly increasing in volume until it was impossible to ignore. He reached over and promptly slammed his fingers against the stop button and let out a ferocious yawn. It took him a few minutes to start moving; his mind thinking back to the odd dream he had just had. It was tantalizingly being trickled away from his memory and the events became more and more vague. He remembered his life reversing, then something about galaxies, but not much else. He’d had some strange dreams before, but that was up there with the best of them. At least it wasn’t snakes this time, he was often having dreams about snakes, which he could never make sense of, he didn’t even like the critters. He gradually climbed out of bed and started his morning routine. Today was a big day for him; he was competing in the regional trials for a place in the national sprinting team. He’d worked incredibly hard for this, not just physically, but studiously. He knew it would take a lot of money to support himself and to afford a coach, so he studied hard and eventually got himself an affluent job as a real estate agent. The pay was good and it gave him the kick-start he needed, using every opportunity to train in his spare time. His two-hundred-meter sprint was his forte, and that’s what he expected to perform best at today, and it was how he was going to start. Other than the weird dream, he’d rested well and felt fully charged for his day.

He had his usual breakfast; granola, yoghurt, eggs on toast, bagels and lots of fruit. It would be a whole meal to most people, but Brandon would burn the calories off without even trying. His routine continued with a shower, a catch up on the news and a strong cup of coffee. After he got dressed, he packed his bag, said goodbye to his overfed feline companion, Butch Catsidy, and climbed into his precious 4x4 to start his journey. As he drove, his mobile phone sprung to life with well-wishing messages from his friends, some in text form, some short audio clips.

Good luck big man Said James.

Show ‘em what you got Olivia typed.

Remember I still beat you in 2nd grade at 200 meters teased Samir.  That was when Samir knew how to run, since then, his diet of burgers had stinted his legs’ abilities to move him any faster than a brisk walk.

It was a shame that his friends couldn’t make it today; it was a mid-week event, so he couldn’t really blame them. They all had their jobs to go to, and there was only Mike who was able to make it. Brandon knew they’d come and support him if he got to the National event, but to Brandon it wasn’t a case of ‘if’ but ‘when’. He was confident in his ability, he’d been motivated all his life and determined to succeed, and today was just another stepping stone up to his dream of an Olympic medal.

Beers are on me tonight as a celebration Samir’s voice clip chimed in.

Go break some records Brando, smiley face, smiley face typed Gina. She hadn’t got used to emoji’s yet, or if she had done, she was joking around. Brandon had never been able to figure out which one it was.

Been trying you all morning Bran, give me a call straight away, you need to turn back a panicked sounding Danny said.

Brandon glanced down, trying to flip through his phone menu’s while trying not to run over people, to find his call records. There it was; six calls from Danny. What on earth had got into him? Brandon knew that he’d continue calling him if he didn’t respond, that’s just how he was, so decided to pull over and call him back. Brandon sat there at the side of the road for a minute, trying to think of what to say. He was furious, why was Danny suddenly saying this? Everyone else had supported him, but for whatever reason, all Danny could do was to tell him not to go. It didn’t make any sense. He decided to wing it; just listen to what Danny had to say and respond accordingly, so he hit the call button on his phone.

Brandon, jeez, thank god you called back. Where are you? Danny asked sounding relieved.

I’m just out of town, on my way to the stadium, what the hell is your message about? This is a big day for me Dan, I don’t need silly distractions like that

Look, sorry. I know this will sound crazy but you have to trust me on this Danny replied quickly, Don’t ask me how I know, but something isn’t right today, something big is going to happen and you really shouldn’t go to the stadium

Something big? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Yes, something big is going to happen, me, working my way to the National team. What the hell are you talking about? Are you drunk? Brandon shouted angrily.

It’s nine in the morning, of course I’m not. I said it would sound crazy, but you have to believe me

Unless you can tell me something specific, then I have no reason to risk my whole career on anything you’re saying. Yes, it does sound crazy, and, I mean, what the... look, I need to concentrate on today Brandon shouted back, a whole mixture of emotions running through him.

Do you remember the haunting you had?

Brandon stopped his angry thoughts for a moment, slightly confused, before recalling an incident in the past where his apartment was being disturbed by strange apparitions and invisible phenomena. He had completely forgotten about the incident; but couldn’t understand why. Danny had been able to get all the paranormal activity to stop, Brandon never knew how, but he did. But what did that have to do with anything?

Yeah, I remember, that seems like another lifetime ago, it took me a while then to think back to what happened. I still don’t know what the hell you did to stop that Dan, but what has that got to do with today? What has got Danny the Ghost whisperer so spooked? It’s insane, are you sure you haven’t been drinking? Brandon said still confused.

I’m trying to say that you trusted me then, as crazy as all that was, so you need to trust me now. Please. Mike has

You’ve spoken to Mike? Brandon said exasperated.

Yes, he’s turned back, he believed me. You have to do the same, something bad is going to happen

Brandon was now furious. Mike was the only one who had been able to make it to see him that day and Danny had persuaded him not to go, with his crazy ‘believe me, I’m spooky Danny’ nonsense. He’d had enough of this conversation; he had his life to get on with and his dream to chase.

Fuck you Dan, I’m going, and don’t call me again Brandon said, before abruptly ending the call and throwing the phone on to the passenger seat, Asshole

He sat there for another minute, letting himself calm down, before he headed back off on his journey. Danny tried to call a few more times, but Brandon ignored it, he just let it ring away to voicemail. It was another thirty minutes before he reached the stadium. When he got there, he made sure he phoned Mike, who promptly answered. They had a heated exchange, Brandon not understanding why Mike believed Danny’s strange paranoia and Mike unable to convince Brandon to leave. So, it was stalemate, and they both left the conversation with harsh words directed at each other. Brandon decided to ignore all the negativity, he had to leave all that behind him and get his mind on the task in hand. He climbed out of his 4x4, grabbed his bag and made his way to the changing rooms where his coach was waiting for him. His coach Tamir had put Brandon through his paces the last few years, and he was excited to see his work pay off. He was confident Brandon would realize his dreams, and today was the start of it. After the motivational verbal pat on the back, Tamir left him to change, gather his thoughts and focus his mind. Brandon had over an hour to focus before he was due on the track, for some people this may be too much and the adrenalin could dissipate into a state of nervous tears, but not Brandon, he was made of harder stuff than that.

After an hour of intense focusing, it was time, time to show the world what he could do. He made his way slowly out of the changing rooms and through the corridor to the track outside. He looked around at the spectators that filled the stadium, far more than he expected there to be. It was the biggest crowd he had ever ran in front of, which almost made his focused adrenalin wriggle away, but he managed to regain his composure as he walked to the starting point. It was only 200 meters, around twenty seconds in total, twenty seconds that could alter his life. The fact that the tiniest proportion of his life could affect it so profoundly was mind-boggling. But then it only took a second for something fatal to occur, some accident to rise up and grab you; so, life may well have been governed by the almost imperceptibly small parts he thought. He got into position, ready, waiting for the gun to herald the start of his twenty second life altering episode, and with a bang; it started. His legs propelled him up and forward, instinctively, the adrenalin now his friend, as it pumped the much-needed energy through his veins. He was quick, inching ahead of his opponents with ease. All he had to do was keep the momentum going to stay ahead. He was one hundred meters in, half way, and he knew he was ahead of his opponents by enough to secure the gold medal he was hungry for; the crowd now seeming to get more and more excited.

He was over half way along now, ten seconds of his life had passed, half of that which was needed to secure the future he dreamed of, the crowd now standing to their feet, his opponents dropping further back. Fifteen seconds of his life had rushed by now, and he could tell his opponents were now even further behind him; the crowd now really elated. Brandon felt honored to have the crowd react to him this way; it was so unexpected, that he figured that his fellow runners must have been a long, long way behind him. The crowd seemed to move and sway; what were they doing now? He thought. A Mexican wave? At seventeen seconds of his life affirming moment he suddenly noticed that they weren’t doing a Mexican wave at all, they were scrambling to reach the exits, the cheering wasn’t a glorious celebration of the athletes below them, they were screams of terror. What was happening?

Even though Brandon knew he had mere seconds to realize his dream, he was impelled to look behind him, to see what everyone else was seeing, to see what was causing the horrified crowd to leave the stadium in droves. What had stolen the last few seconds of his dream-making from him? As he glanced behind, his run was halted and his legs quickly stopped his acceleration. The far edge of the stadium behind him was glistening, moving in an undulating pattern, a silver wave of what looked like metal was spewing forth like lava and seeming to merge into everything else around it. Upon a closer inspection, it seemed as if everything around it was made of whatever this was, it was a chair one moment and then it would fall apart into a flickering metallic mass and be swept up with the rest of the silver shimmering hive.

It was now time for Brandon to do what he did best again; run. There was now a new episode of micro-moments that would affect his life forever, one that would determine if he was to get away from this madness he was seeing, or become part of whatever this metallic flowing mass was.  There was only one way he could see to get out, and that was back to the changing rooms. He didn’t have time to scramble up into the crowd and out their exit, so he swiftly sprinted diagonally, not looking back once. He reached the tunnel, his legs pounding the concrete hard, the cries of spectators funnelling down the passageway. If he could get to his locker, he could grab his car keys; that was the best option, so he took a quick diversion, hurriedly pulled his bag from the locker and slammed it shut behind him in desperation. Without giving it a second thought he dashed out the changing rooms, desperate strides carrying him out the entrance and towards the car park. He had a quick glance back at the stadium and watched it melt into more shards of tiny flashing metal. He reached into his bag, fumbling for his keys; they were here somewhere, why couldn’t he find them? He hadn’t realized that his keys had fallen out of his bag as he dashed to the exit, and that they were now also being melted into the metallic ensemble.

Shit He cried out frantically.

He could see the shimmering metal wave coming closer; everything in its path becoming part of it. All he could find was his mobile phone, so he grabbed hold of it and threw his bag to the floor. He took one last glance at the cascading metallic flurry as petrified spectators dashed towards him. He watched completely horror-struck and in bewilderment as a man’s body slowly rippled away into the same metal flickering pieces, his body simply re-forming itself into these tiny shining fragments; becoming the fragments. Brandon didn‘t know what to make of any of this, it was insane. The tiny metal fragments looked like insects; swarming and buzzing in synchronization.  What the hell was happening? He had no time left to think about it, all he could was run again. He launched himself forward, his legs still tired from his 175 meter dash, but he had to override any pain that came, any ache had to be put to the recesses of his mind. He quickly reached the stadiums exit and surged forward down the road, his legs obeying his commands, refusing to give in. Behind him the scene was changing from pavements, streetlights and cars to fluttering flurries of metallic insects, a hive of flashing parts enveloping the tapestry of the surroundings, the surroundings becoming them.

Brandon was running just fast enough to keep ahead of the swarm of metallic death, determined to get as far away as he could. He had no idea where he was going, but if he could outrun them, he would do, for as long as he possibly could. He approached a park, so quickly dashed in, hoping the metallic plague would head off in a different direction. It wasn’t Brandon’s lucky day as the swarm seemed to spread in more than one direction, still continuing to dissolve the world behind him. The grass, the trees, and the flowers all burst into metal insects and joined the chase, with Brandon’s legs beginning to tire more. He had to force himself to keep going, his breath now beginning to be stolen away from him by fatigue. He reached a bridge and continued over it, the swarm behind him grabbing the bridge and tearing it into tiny robotic insects. As quickly as Brandon reached the other side, the bridge had been swept into the swarm, the stream below mutating into more of the infestation. Ahead of him he saw the exit, it was the only way to go, and a few more leaps and bounds got him through it, the oxygen in his veins lessening with each footstep.

Brandon jumped out and narrowly missed an oncoming car, and to his shock, realized he had run straight on to a freeway. He had nowhere else to go, so just followed the traffic, with the plague behind him ripping the road up into more offspring. Brandon was past trying to make any sense out of what was going on. He was seeing it, he was experiencing it, but his mind wasn’t processing the fact that trillions of tiny metal insect-like robots were feeding on everything around them, turning anything material into another thousand versions of itself. A car from behind was quickly approaching, having swerved to avoid the surging insectoid cloud that had burst from the direction of the park. He saw it in the corner of his eye, quickly making the decision to jump on to the bonnet. With an extra push he flung himself towards it and landed face first on to the windscreen, the hysterical passengers screaming at him wide eyed.

What the hell are you doing? Get off! shouted the male driver, while the female passenger reached down into her handbag.

Brandon hardly had the ability to speak by this point, he was so out of breath that his voice stuttered in short bursts and was an octave higher than it normally was, as his lungs furiously inhaled and exhaled.

We..got..to..get..out...of...here...now. Please He managed to gasp out, between quick shallow breaths.

The car’s occupants were still shouting so loud at him frantically that they never understood or comprehended anything he said; they just wanted this mad man off their windscreen. That’s when Brandon finally managed to notice that the woman was grabbing something from her handbag, something shiny, something that looked like a gun. Brandon’s eyes widened as he suddenly realized what this woman was intending to do, and as he was realizing it, she was lifting her firearm towards the windscreen. Was she crazy? Brandon thought. He had no time to plead with her, he could see she was terrified and her finger was seconds away from causing him problems far worse in this micro-moment than the object-devouring insect-bots, so he lifted himself up and jumped sideways off the car and crashed to the road below.

Brandon luckily covered his head as he landed, so caused no damage other than a graze to his thigh as his body scrapped against the hard road. He didn’t have time to think about the pain, he knew the swarm was still near and he didn’t want to become part of it. He launched himself to his feet, by now his adrenalin thinking his thoughts for him, and he jumped over the middle barrier to try and get across the other side to a wooded area he could see.  The car he had leapt off was being shrouded by a fog of glistening metal, before suddenly dissipating into a million more metallic offspring, the entire car, the man, the woman, and the gun, all instantly changing into the still impossible to understand swirling mass of metal insects. Brandon couldn’t dwell on any situation for long, every second was crucial, every tiny moment was one to be used to get away, and his adrenalin had no time to process fear, wonder, or confusion. He had managed to get his breath back a little and with all the reserve energy he had, managed to rapidly bounce himself across, timing it so that the swerving cars wouldn’t bother him. This adrenalin is damn good, Brandon told himself. He jumped over the edge barrier effortlessly, and threw himself down the embankment into the wood, clumsily thudding to the bottom, but flawlessly picking himself up quick enough to keep the momentum going.

The wood was thick, the trees dotted around unevenly, the roots were obstacles he desperately needed to avoid. Behind him the wood was dissolving into more tiny metal scourges, the trees collapsing down and re-emerging into metal foes relentlessly. He had avoided tripping over any of the roots, which was his biggest fear. He had seen enough horror movies to know that if someone fell over something in a wood, it was shortly before meeting their demise, so this was paramount in his adrenalin-led mind. The fact that this situation was infinitely more terrifying and horrific that any movie he had ever seen wasn’t even computed in his mind, it was just one foot and then the next, surveying the terrain, moving over it, not stopping, never slowing down. He reached the foot of a hill, the hill still forested with mighty trees. It would slow him down ascending it, but it was too big to run around, so his adrenalin instructed him to get to the top as fast he possibly could, to forget the cramp building in his legs, forget that he could hardly breathe, forget everything and obey, if he wanted to live. Brandon didn’t have the mental capacity to argue, so he climbed the hill, careful to avoid any hazards as he went, not sure he would make it, not really sure of anything anymore.

He finally scrambled to the top, almost falling over with the effort it had taken and looked back down, gasping dangerously for air, his organs starved of oxygen, his mind starting to feel fuzzy. His adrenalin wasn’t going to let him pass out though, it wouldn’t allow it, and so he was able to continue to the far side of the hill. He got to other side and was able to see for miles, back down to the town and the countryside surrounding it. He had never been up this hill before, but he knew what he was seeing from this vantage point was all wrong. The surrounding area below him was shimmering in the sunlight, glistening metallically, writhing and moving. For miles and miles all he could see was the same sight, the tiny insect robots multiplying instantly when they came into contact with anything else, transforming the ‘anything else’ into one of ‘them’, an unstoppable tidal