Last Days

When word broke the world seemed to stop for a moment. In Raymond’s office the news went round. People stared at each other in shocked silence. Was this a hoax? His colleagues searched on their mobile phones, checking news websites, called their friends and family. Could this be true?

Raymond Rogers saved the progress on the spreadsheet he was working on, and clicked on the internet. The headlines in large bold lettering gave the news that was shocking everyone. According to all major news outlets, the world would end in a few days’ time due to an asteroid impact. World leaders would be making statements in a few moments. 

 Raymond joined his colleagues, watching the wall-mounted television set. The Prime Minister addressed the British public from the official podium. He was sorry to confirm that, unfortunately this was not a hoax, and that around three-thirty on Friday afternoon, an asteroid would impact the planet, ending life almost instantly. The best scientists in the world had been working for the past few years to try and come up with a solution, but, alas, there was simply nothing that could be done to prevent the catastrophe. He finished by appealing for calm and saying he wished everyone the very best of luck.

Dale, the office manager told the staff that they could take the rest of the day off, and he’d let them know if they had to report for work the next day. 

‘Are you having a laugh? Did you hear what the PM just said? The world is about to end.’ Someone said. 

‘It’s not my decision, it’s company policy.’ Dale said. 

‘There will not be a company after Friday afternoon.’ Someone else said.

People burst into tears, unable to take the horrific news. Others simply stood, pale and in shock, not quite sure what to do. What could you do? What were you supposed to do?

Still stunned, people shrugged into their coats and headed for the door. As they reached the car-park, Raymond’s colleagues hugged each other and said their goodbyes. 

Raymond headed to the office kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. As he was heading back to his desk, quite unsure what to do with himself, Dale walked by, buttoning up his over-coat. Dale tossed him the office keys, told him to lock up when he was leaving, and wished him luck.

Raymond nodded, quite lost for words. His mobile phone rang. His sister’s name flashed on screen.

‘Oh Ray, have you heard? It’s just shocking. We’re on our way to pick the kids up from school.’ Anne said, her voice trembling.

‘Yes,’ Raymond said. ‘it’s just so strange, isn’t it?’

‘Would you like to come over?’ She asked.

Raymond sensed Anne was asking as she knew he didn’t have a wide circle of friends, he had never courted popularity and had always been something of a loner, more than happy in his own company. Right then, though, surely everyone needed company.

‘I’ll be over after work. I finish at five o’clock.’ Raymond said.

‘They’re making you stay, after the news?’

‘No, there’s nobody else here.’ Raymond said. ‘I have work to do.’

‘Ray, it really doesn’t matter about work. Come over.’ Anne said.

‘I’ll be over around half-five.’ Raymond said.

As he worked in the office, he had the news channel on in the background. All talk was about the impending disaster. There was footage of towns being looted and rioters trashing cities across the country. One man, a guy in his fifties, wearing a shirt and tie, was smashing the windows of Manchester town hall with a cricket bat. Everyone was handling it in whatever way they could. Raymond grabbed a file from the cupboard and continued with his invoice queries. 

As well as being alone in the office, the other thing Raymond noticed was that the telephones did not ring. Under normal circumstances, if he had been left alone in the office, he would have had to cover the phones, answering the calls and trying to help where he could. Now, though, nobody was calling. He sensed that people had better things to do than call up ordering stationery. Suddenly everything seemed so trivial.

On the drive to Anne’s house, the streets had quite an apocalyptic feel. The pavements were busy, packed with people. Many people were drunk or under the influence of some substance or other, staggering and slurring along. Some people sobbed and hugged strangers tight, terrified of what was going to happen. Others fought in the streets, as though knocking lumps out of each other would help. He heard crowds of people singing, Don’t Look Back in Anger. A fitting choice, as there did seem so much fury at the situation the entire planet found itself. 

When Anne answered the door, she had tears in her eyes. She squeezed his hand tightly, and told him to come in. His niece and nephew were sitting on the sofa in their pyjamas. Raymond’s brother in law Craig had red eyes from crying and was sipping a whiskey.

‘So we’re not going to school tomorrow? Or the day after?’ His nephew asked.

‘No, love. There is no more school. We only have a few days left.’ Anne said. 

‘But we’ll be together, that’s the main thing. We’re going nowhere.’ Craig added.

Raymond sensed Craig was trying to console himself as much as the children.

‘Can I get you a drink, Ray?’ Craig asked.

‘Cup of tea, please.’ Raymond said.

‘Tea? Haven’t you heard? The world is about to end. We don’t need to worry about our livers anymore. They were talking to some lads on the news just now who, like a lot people, were going on a massive bender, drinking as much as they can, drinking to oblivion, literally. They don’t need to worry about the hang-over. I don’t blame them.’ Craig said.

‘I’ll have a tea.’ Raymond insisted.

A few hours later, Raymond made to leave. Anne offered him their spare room, saying he shouldn’t be on his own at a time like this. Raymond insisted he would be fine, well, as fine as anyone else was going to be on Friday. 

‘What will you do with the next couple of days?’ Anne asked.

‘I’ve got so much to get through at work.’ Raymond said. 

‘Work really doesn’t matter, Ray.’ Anne said.

Raymond bid her good evening and headed to the car. 

Over the next couple of days as Raymond headed to work, the world around him seemed to be falling apart. He would shower, shave and dress for work, in his usual shirt and tie, and leave for the office. The streets were just utter carnage. Some shops and vehicles were burnt-out, police and ambulance sirens rang out almost constantly as the emergency services struggled to cope with the general public who were themselves struggling to cope with the news. 

There were riots and marches, protests and disturbances. The world was supposed to end of Friday but, it seemed to Raymond, everyone was having a dress-rehearsal. 

As he logged on and started working on his spreadsheet, his sister questioning his going to the office came to him. What else was he supposed to do? He had no immediate family, should he get roaring drunk and go out and trash a city street? That was hardly his style. Everyone seemed to be handling this differently, or even not at all. 

Every channel on television was broadcasting the emergency news. No presenters, just rolling headlines, automated voices, drone and CCTV footage of the events unfolding. The world leaders who had initially appealed for calm were nowhere to be seen. Raymond assumed they were tucked up in their secret bunkers, not that that would save them.

Anne kept in regular contact with him. She would fill him in on what was happening on her side. Several of her friends, married couples she’d known for years, had split up, deciding that, at the last, life was too short and they wanted to spend their last days in the hours of someone else. Her friend’s teenage daughter had run away with a lad from up the street. A lot of people she knew were preparing special meals for Friday, a last hurrah, using the best ingredients they could source from the depleted supermarket stocks. Even the supermarkets had no staff. There were signs on the walls that asked that customers use the self-service check-out rather than just taking the produce, but most people didn’t bother. What was the point? After Friday none of this would exist. 

Anne asked Raymond if he wanted to spend Friday afternoon with them, insisting, we’d all like that. Raymond forced a sad smile on his face, and reminded her that he didn’t finish work until five o’clock.

On the Friday morning, Raymond headed to the office as usual. The chaos on the streets seemed more subdued than the previous days. Where people had been shouting and fighting, they were simply sitting slumped by the roadside. There was a sense of foreboding, of impending doom. Maybe everyone was more resigned to their fate, as it was getting nearer. 

He booted up his computer and busied himself with completing his reports, tapping away, transferring the data from the paper records in front of him, to the spreadsheets. 

Just after three o’clock, Anne called him. In tears, she told him she loved him. Raymond returned the sentiment, saying to give the kids a hug from him. 

Thirty minutes later, as the sky burned red and bubbled furiously outside, Raymond clicked save on his spreadsheet.

By Chris Platt

From: United Kingdom