Jackie Bee
Well-Known Member
This is a rewrite of the piece I have posted here last month. The first half of the first chapter, 950 words. Any feedback is appreciated!
***
A distant roaring sound cut through the air.
Grace looked up. A plane cut a strange path in the sky. It aimed down—not straight down, but obviously at an angle too sharp for a successful landing. It disappeared behind distant skyscrapers, and, seconds later, came a sound like remote thunder. The ground vibrated slightly under her feet.
She gasped, and took a step back. Goose bumps rose on her arms. Did it actually crash? She started walking, then stopped again, looked around, ran her fingers through her hair. Was she supposed to do something about it? To call someone? To offer help? The parking lot seemed unusually deserted, and she shuddered from a sudden, overwhelming sense of loneliness and vulnerability.
She was still shivering when she swiped her employee card by the door, and stepped into the open space. For a second, the familiarity of it made her breath easier—but then, she frowned again. Usually, at this hour, the huge room was quiet, with only a few employees sitting in their cubicles, surfing the web, drinking their coffee—but not today. She saw small groups of people gathered here and there, some talking in hushed whispers, others frowning at their computer screens and their phones.
She walked to her desk, looking for familiar faces. A group of four engineers was hanging by the nearby terminal. Sitting in his chair was Colin, with his friends from another department crowding behind his back, eyes on his computer screen.
"I saw it." Grace did her best to keep her voice steady.
"Saw what?" Colin said, not looking at her.
"The plane."
"What plane?"
"The plane that crashed."
They didn’t react. Perhaps they were reading about something else—could there have been any more breaking news she had missed on her way to work? She walked over and tried to peek at the screen, but couldn't see anything from behind their backs. "What are you looking at?"
"Just a second," Colin said. "Holy crap, this can't be real. It's a joke!"
She turned away, annoyed by their lack of attention, and headed for the small kitchen adjacent to the open space. Idiots, she thought. Probably fussing about a sports game or something of the kind, while she had a real piece of news to share.
In the kitchen, she stumbled upon Martha, a woman so big it was impossible to steal past her unnoticed—not that Grace intended to.
"Morning." She placed a paper cup in the coffee machine and pressed a button, her fingers still trembling. Damn, she needed that coffee. "You know, I think I've just seen a plane crash."
Martha widened her eyes. "Oh my!" She put her cup of water down on the counter. "Are you serious? Where?"
"I was just outside the building. I saw that plane aiming down, but I didn't see any explosion. It must have fallen beyond the city limits."
"Holy Jesus!" Martha breathed out. At last, Grace seemed to have found someone with the proper reaction. "That's horrible! The poor people on board!" She picked her cup back up and finished her water in one gulp. "What a morning! All that prank news and now this…"
"Prank news?"
"Haven't you heard? There have been strange news, all over the net for the last half an hour. Our boys say it must be a prank, they say --"
She was interrupted by a low, loud sound coming from the outside. For a second, Grace couldn't quite grasp what she was hearing, but then she figured out that it must be the city alarm. The siren started somewhat stealthily, but it steadily increased, soon reaching a scary, deafening volume. Both women turned to the window, but it overlooked the back yard of the building, and nothing interesting was happening there.
"Oh, my." Martha pressed her palms to her chest, her voice barely audible above the wailing siren. "Now, what is that? What's going on?"
Suddenly, Grace wanted no coffee. Leaving her cup in the machine, she hurried back to her desk.
It was quieter there, with almost all the windows closed. She saw Colin locking one of them at the end of the passage between the cubicles. His effort had further reduced the noise, but the wailing outside still sounded strong and ominous. The siren must have distracted Colin's friends from whatever they'd been reading, for now they stood with their backs to the computer, looking around hesitantly. Grace stopped in front of them.
"What's going on?" she demanded. Too many strange things were happening at once for her to keep playing cool, and her voice was shaking now, in a very un-cool manner. "What did you read?"
"There's some weird stuff on the Internet," Colin said, coming back from the window. "We thought it was a prank, that maybe someone had hacked the major news sites and published that bullsh**, but it's on the TV, too, and now this…"
"But what kind of bullsh**?"
"It says there's some kind of an epidemic," he said. "Some kind of a virus—most likely airborne—spreading quickly, sort of washing over the country, so they claim."
"Good thing we've closed the windows," said one of his friends—a tall, skinny guy. He looked around with a weak smile, which nobody returned.
"And it mostly affects women," Colin added, looking at Grace. "Like, almost exclusively women."
"But that's bullsh**," the smiling guy said. He was very obviously trying to wipe the grin off his face, but it seemed to be stuck there against his will. "There's no such virus."
"But how does it affect women?" Grace said. "What happens to them?"
"They die, basically." Colin said, watching her warily.
...
***
A distant roaring sound cut through the air.
Grace looked up. A plane cut a strange path in the sky. It aimed down—not straight down, but obviously at an angle too sharp for a successful landing. It disappeared behind distant skyscrapers, and, seconds later, came a sound like remote thunder. The ground vibrated slightly under her feet.
She gasped, and took a step back. Goose bumps rose on her arms. Did it actually crash? She started walking, then stopped again, looked around, ran her fingers through her hair. Was she supposed to do something about it? To call someone? To offer help? The parking lot seemed unusually deserted, and she shuddered from a sudden, overwhelming sense of loneliness and vulnerability.
She was still shivering when she swiped her employee card by the door, and stepped into the open space. For a second, the familiarity of it made her breath easier—but then, she frowned again. Usually, at this hour, the huge room was quiet, with only a few employees sitting in their cubicles, surfing the web, drinking their coffee—but not today. She saw small groups of people gathered here and there, some talking in hushed whispers, others frowning at their computer screens and their phones.
She walked to her desk, looking for familiar faces. A group of four engineers was hanging by the nearby terminal. Sitting in his chair was Colin, with his friends from another department crowding behind his back, eyes on his computer screen.
"I saw it." Grace did her best to keep her voice steady.
"Saw what?" Colin said, not looking at her.
"The plane."
"What plane?"
"The plane that crashed."
They didn’t react. Perhaps they were reading about something else—could there have been any more breaking news she had missed on her way to work? She walked over and tried to peek at the screen, but couldn't see anything from behind their backs. "What are you looking at?"
"Just a second," Colin said. "Holy crap, this can't be real. It's a joke!"
She turned away, annoyed by their lack of attention, and headed for the small kitchen adjacent to the open space. Idiots, she thought. Probably fussing about a sports game or something of the kind, while she had a real piece of news to share.
In the kitchen, she stumbled upon Martha, a woman so big it was impossible to steal past her unnoticed—not that Grace intended to.
"Morning." She placed a paper cup in the coffee machine and pressed a button, her fingers still trembling. Damn, she needed that coffee. "You know, I think I've just seen a plane crash."
Martha widened her eyes. "Oh my!" She put her cup of water down on the counter. "Are you serious? Where?"
"I was just outside the building. I saw that plane aiming down, but I didn't see any explosion. It must have fallen beyond the city limits."
"Holy Jesus!" Martha breathed out. At last, Grace seemed to have found someone with the proper reaction. "That's horrible! The poor people on board!" She picked her cup back up and finished her water in one gulp. "What a morning! All that prank news and now this…"
"Prank news?"
"Haven't you heard? There have been strange news, all over the net for the last half an hour. Our boys say it must be a prank, they say --"
She was interrupted by a low, loud sound coming from the outside. For a second, Grace couldn't quite grasp what she was hearing, but then she figured out that it must be the city alarm. The siren started somewhat stealthily, but it steadily increased, soon reaching a scary, deafening volume. Both women turned to the window, but it overlooked the back yard of the building, and nothing interesting was happening there.
"Oh, my." Martha pressed her palms to her chest, her voice barely audible above the wailing siren. "Now, what is that? What's going on?"
Suddenly, Grace wanted no coffee. Leaving her cup in the machine, she hurried back to her desk.
It was quieter there, with almost all the windows closed. She saw Colin locking one of them at the end of the passage between the cubicles. His effort had further reduced the noise, but the wailing outside still sounded strong and ominous. The siren must have distracted Colin's friends from whatever they'd been reading, for now they stood with their backs to the computer, looking around hesitantly. Grace stopped in front of them.
"What's going on?" she demanded. Too many strange things were happening at once for her to keep playing cool, and her voice was shaking now, in a very un-cool manner. "What did you read?"
"There's some weird stuff on the Internet," Colin said, coming back from the window. "We thought it was a prank, that maybe someone had hacked the major news sites and published that bullsh**, but it's on the TV, too, and now this…"
"But what kind of bullsh**?"
"It says there's some kind of an epidemic," he said. "Some kind of a virus—most likely airborne—spreading quickly, sort of washing over the country, so they claim."
"Good thing we've closed the windows," said one of his friends—a tall, skinny guy. He looked around with a weak smile, which nobody returned.
"And it mostly affects women," Colin added, looking at Grace. "Like, almost exclusively women."
"But that's bullsh**," the smiling guy said. He was very obviously trying to wipe the grin off his face, but it seemed to be stuck there against his will. "There's no such virus."
"But how does it affect women?" Grace said. "What happens to them?"
"They die, basically." Colin said, watching her warily.
...
)
