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Short Story / Gone, Gone
Gone
January 24th, 2030 – 9:15 PM
Pulling their suits on, the firefighters had no way of telling the severity of the looming disaster. The dispatcher had explained the fire as “Building fire within Velcon.” but that meant little in terms of range and force of the flames. Nevertheless, the band of four piled into the cargo area of the truck and plowed through the open doors of the fire house. Seconds passed before the driver turned the sirens on full and the speed of the truck picked up. They barreled around turn after turn bypassing pulled over cars until they reached the last stretch of road before Velcon. The red paint nearly slipped off the engine as it swerved into the parking lot of the prestigious laboratory facility taking no time to stall. Four heads looked through undersized windows making time-tested assumptions of the probability of death. Due to the black smog exuding through the windows, they each concurred, with a nod, that they had little time to react.
They acted as one as the four dove out of the hold and onto the pavement. Two ran to find the nearest hydrant leaving the remaining two to tend to the code-locked door. Due to the experimentation and secrecy of their labs, Velcon had installed a code system in which the doors could only be opened when an employee gave proof of their employment. With the latest technology installed, they would have to look into a set of beams which would read their irises and determine if they were listed in the database. Having no time for such formalities, the two firefighters at the door resorted to using the axe in the cargo hold. It took three heavy swings to break the reinforced glass but once down, they were inside without a problem. Joining them from behind, the other officers followed.
‘What’s the plan?’ asked one.
‘The usual. Find the living, break down walls,’ came the reply.
They nodded in unison and split off into two teams. The first, made up of the first two into the building, ran up a flight of stairs to the second level. The heat was picking up giving them an idea of how close they were to the place of origin. Dodging the flames and debris, they found multiple doors, which they opened, yet found nothing significant within. They moved further into Building Four making every excuse to check the contents of the passing rooms.
‘You find anything?’ came the voice of the sergeant.
‘Nothing. Just empty rooms.’
‘Check the third floor. I got word that there was only one man working today and he’s in room 306.’
‘You sure?’
‘Very.’
The men turned around and sprinted backwards down the hall. At the stairs, they rounded a corner and found another flight leading upward. Upon reaching the third floor, it was evident that they were even closer to the original blast site. The smog was thicker than the second floor and the heat was beginning to nip at gaps in their suits. Still, the firefighters pressed onward and made their way down the hall reading off room signs. 300. 301. 302. 303. 304. 305. Then 306. Each man felt the door concluding that they were about to come face to face with a spitting inferno. Grabbing the axe from earlier, they thrust it into the oak door creating a dent in its face. Twice more and a well placed hole became large enough for the waiting firefighter to reach his hand for the knob on the other side. As the door opened, a large pop went off and a fresh burst of flames sprayed loose from the blaze. The men stepped back and looked inside for any sign of the lonely man.
‘Hello,’ they called.
‘Anyone there?’ they asked.
No answer and increasing danger warranted one last look around the room before leaving altogether. They took note of a sparking machine with its top ripped in half and nothing else.
‘We got nothing chief. We’re heading out.’
A short pause, ‘Ok.’
Sprinting two steps at a time, the officers avoided pieces of a falling roof and collapsing floor until they reached the lobby again. Back out in the fresh air, they found the sergeant standing with the other firefighters. Two other trucks had arrived on the scene spraying gallons of water in an attempt to salvage Building Four.
‘He wasn’t there?’
One of them pulled his visor up, ‘Nothing. Just a sparking machine.’
They let a moment of silence overtake them as they grieved the loss of a man none of them knew. It was their job to save those in danger and they had failed. Breaking the moment, a man in a blue suit stepped between the men.
‘Is he – ?’
‘Yeah. No sign of the body.’
‘None at all?’
‘None.’
He joined in their silence and shook his head in a distraught manner. All six of them stood listening to the sound of water pounding against brick wondering how it had happened and why they had to loose a life in such a way.
Gone
January 24th, 2030 – 8:45 PM
As he tightened the final bolt on the side arm of the machine, Frank Cantone grinned happily. It had taken a total of six days to create, record time if you thought of the magnitude of the project, and finally he would be free from persecution. Finally he would be free from it all. As he stepped back, he admired the six foot contraption. Its steel beams and thick rods came together in a dome-like structure creating a cave-esque area in the center. The front panel, on the right side, was wired properly, or so he believed it to be, and waited to be used.
Proud of his work, he let out a sigh and took aim at a seat cushion behind him. As he fell into place, he could feel the stresses and problems float away leaving behind a blankness that his mind had lacked as of late. For once, he didn’t have to worry about Velcon’s deadlines and Kenny’s proposal. There were no decisions to be made or screw-jobs to be construed. There was nothing left in this state of blankness. Looking again, he glanced at his permanent ride to obscurity. He knew that the taste of nothingness was only the start of something completely new. Something that would drive him out of the rut he had managed to fall into. All he had to do was pray that it worked.
For another moment he sat, oblivious to the circulating second hand, thinking of the final step. He had imagined how he was going to pull it off on a few separate occasions before. There were a lot of ways that it could be done properly too. As he pushed through those possibilities now, he looked for the easiest and most secure.
It had to be flawless.
Feeling ready, Cantone stood from the swiveling chair and made his way to a table beside the control panel. He picked up a tiny silver box and looked over it. It was a simple device with a button, a knob, and a space for the time he wished for. Fortunately, Velcon produced them in bulk and taking one from the storage closest was easier than he figured it to be. He watched the digital numbers increase gradually as he spun the knob around for two full rotations. By his calculations, two minutes would be enough to escape.
Frank pulled his cell phone free from his pocket and checked the time before walking up to the technical masterpiece. It towered over his five six frame and watched as he approached the vented floor. Cantone stepped inside and immediately felt the rush he had read about. From the diaries of Jacobson, Delia, Plomb, and Garrity he had read their synonymous conclusions about the chill they got as they stepped inside. From the first tests to the current models, they all agreed that it was a feeling like no other. Cantone grinned as he thought of the giants he was going to mimic and found the space for the small counter. Frank locked it in and checked to make sure the time was still set at two.
Happy, he stepped out of the cave portion of the mechanism and turned to the table from before. His fingers wrapped around the brim of an old fashioned gentleman’s hat which he slowly placed over a full head of hair.
He could feel it.
He could feel the adrenaline pumping and the ideas churning. It would be he who was a giant. It would be he who owned what the world knew as Velcon. More importantly though, he would be making the tough proposals and he would be the one screwing the understudies.
Turning back to the machine for the last time, he nodded his head, as if to tell it he was ready, and walked into the apparatus. He found the dial on the control panel and spun the knob until a small screen read “1930” He tapped his foot and turned to the small counter on the inside. With the click of the green button, the timer began to count down from two, second by second. He took one final look around the room before placing his hands on the control panel again. Frank depressed the green button on that as well and immediately felt the force of three thousand volts of electricity pulse through his body. The shock remained for a good five seconds before his body began to vanish from inside. Finally, the electricity died off leaving a silent smoking room.
Another minute and thirty seconds passed before the explosion pounded through Building Four of the Velcon campus. The machine sparked and the floor gave out passing the flames like a hot potato. Thankfully, Frank Cantone didn’t intend on coming back.
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superkleric reviewed Version 2 -
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DCAllen reviewed Version 2 -
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The action moves quite well in the first few paragraphs. OK, you’ve cut out a lot of the first part. Now the second part is much, much longer than the first. These parts need to be balanced.
Proofreading notes:
Velcon.” but (replace period with comma)
The red paint slipping off the truck is a bit too much.
decaying machine (I’m not sure that “decay” is the right word.)
for a rainy day (cliché – I’d change this unless you are going for satire.)
fifty five minutes . . . forty five = fifty-five . . . forty-five
project is tied up (Do you mean wrapped up?)
ready Frank?’ = ready, Frank?’ (address)
sky blue eyes = sky-blue eyes (prenominal compound modifier)
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katirra reviewed Version 2 -
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Overall, I liked this piece. The opening was engaging and when the firefighters found nothing I was intrigued. One critique I had was the story is a bit confusing at times. For example, on page 7, after the flashback, it took me a moment to figure out that story was back to Frank & Kevin. Also, it was unclear that it was Frank that was in the time machine (I am guessing it was a time machine). I think this is a good start but could benefit from some added details to help clarify the story.
samfreely reviewed Version 2 -
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I’m not exactly sure what is happeneing and that may be a good thing for this piece. I get that he built a time machine, but I feel like I’m missing half the story. Like why he built it? What was the purpose for him to go back to 2015? I thought your execution was great, but still have these questions that seem to be unanswered. This seems like it could be expanded upon.
“The two hundreds flew past their visors and the three hundreds came closer as they reached the third floor. ”- I’m not familiar with fire fighter operations, what does this mean? Are you refering to the suite numbers of the building?
Either way, fiarly decent. So keep at it.
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