We went as far as the car would take us. Which wasn’t far, to be honest, but it was far enough that the walk wouldn’t be grueling. When the rusted pile of bolts started sputtering, Oliver steered toward the side of the road, managing to get it into a safe position between an RV and a VW Bug. I hated leaving the car behind. It was a twelve year old hatchback, white paint peeling off in spots, thanks to the weather and probably not enough care. But it had been ours. And I had loved it, low-hanging ceiling fabric and all.

It was left behind, though, regardless of its sentimental value. The road before us was one of those worn down ones, pockmarked with potholes of varying sizes, the kind of side road oft neglected by state maintenance, but still heavily trafficked. Rocks and gravel lined the sides of the road, interspersed with dead leaves – remnants of fall. Others who’d come to see the spectacle were already making their way along the road, moving only when necessary to get out of the way of traffic.

I rolled my boot on a large rock, and stumbled a bit in my steps. Oliver took my elbow in his hand, steadying me. I gave a weak smile as thanks, and we kept walking. Howling gusts of wind sliced through my thin jacket, and I desperately wished I’d brought my leather jacket. Or even that ridiculous puffy thing specifically for winter.

I’d bought it in the hopes that I’d actually go skiing at some point. Get one of those slope tags they put on your zipper as proof that I, too, am an active, outdoorsy person. I never did. It would’ve been handy now. Now, at the end of the world, which had decided to come during the dead of winter. And we were fools, making some sort of morbid pilgrimage to see it. To watch as the earth slipped away into nothingness. To be together as we, too, slipped away into nothingness.

Which was the best explanation either of us could come up with, in the end. It had appeared so suddenly, with no warning and no apparent cause. Thus far, the best scientists we had in America couldn’t make heads or tails of it, and no one was willing to take any guesses. Panic and hysteria already abounded in certain parts of the country over this thing. No use in making it complete terror.

There were other cars along the side of the road, and we could hear the commotion as we continued on towards the hill.

“You think it’s like they’ve been saying on the radio?”

Television had been knocked out by the power of this thing, and so had the internet, but a few enterprising folks had kept radio together. We still had news, but we had no pictures to go with the news. In some ways, this came as a comfort. I wondered if I wouldn’t have taken it so well if I’d had images to lend even greater reality.

“I’m not even sure. Sounds like a giant party, though.” Oliver scrubbed his free hand through his messy black hair, keeping a careful eye on the road.

As we walked, more people continued to join us on the road, heading the same direction. I half expected to see people we knew, or maybe some mutual friends. The faces and bodies began to all blend together, and the sounds Oliver was talking about began to demand more of my attention.

“It sounds like a music fest. Like,” I searched my memories for something to relate this to. “Do you remember when we went to Warped Tour?”

“Yeah. I do.” The wind picked up again and Oliver put an arm around me, pulling me closer and angling his body so I wouldn’t have to take the full brunt of the chill. “I also remember having a hangover for the next week.”

I laughed, and loudly. In spite of myself, in spite of what was going on all around us, and in spite of the cold, I laughed. The week long hangover had been an excuse to recover from the weekend of debauchery. I swore my sunburns were third degree and still couldn’t recall how I’d wound up with a penis shaped bong. Hadn’t complained, though, and Sir Schlong made a great addition to our party games repertoire.

“I don’t recall you complaining too much. Couple mentions of wasting vacation time were quickly silenced.”

“With sex. You silenced me with sex.” Oliver was smiling, the first time since we’d left the motel a day and a half ago.

“I don’t recall you saying no, either. I had clear consent, in fact.”

The conversation helped me to stop focusing on the fact that we were likely going to die shortly. And it distracted from the fact that we were trudging up a hill.

“Tell me this is the only hill. I haven’t slept in forever, it feels like, and I wasn’t the one of the two of us who was training for one of those obstacle races.” I’d wanted to. I’d tried, actually, but I’d lost interest. Unless zombies were going to be chasing us, I wasn’t interested in running. Oliver had tried to pique my interest by showing me a flyer for a zombie-themed obstacle run, but it didn’t work. I needed real zombies.

“Yeah, if the noise getting louder is any indication, it should be just over this hill.”

My stomach felt like it immediately twisted into a giant knot. Anxiety and excitement roiled and warred in my gut until I felt mildly sick, but I had every intention of marching down the other side of the hill. There was something sort of thrilling about going off to stare down the end of your very existence.

“Well, thank goodness for that.” The trees were thinning out as we neared the top of the hill, and as I inhaled, my nose was filled with the scent of smoke. “Is that… fire?”

“Smells like it.”

“There’s bonfires!” An older woman, who’d just reached the top, called down to the people behind her. “Holy shit, it’s like Woodstock!”

The woman disappeared down the other side of the hill and I picked up my pace, nearly breaking into a run. “Come on!”

Oliver jogged along after me, grumbling his aggravation. “Woman! Slow down!”

I’d always loved the way it sounded when he called me woman. Oliver’s voice always had a growly quality when he called me woman, and there was a sense of possessiveness. An implied “my” before “woman.” Like he owned me. And there was such a primal response in my brain, in my body, to the idea of being owned by him. Maybe because I owned him just as much in return.

“It’s the end of the world, Oliver! It’s only going to happen once! You don’t want to miss it, do you?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m not going to miss it. Just like you’re not going to miss it.” Oliver caught up to me, grabbing my hand to make sure I didn’t get too far ahead again.

We reached the top of the hill together, both coming to an abrupt stop as we took in the sight before us down in the valley.

“Holy shit…” Oliver whistled, shaking his head.

I had to agree.

The woman who’d said it was like Woodstock had been pretty spot on. Except there was less mud. Bonfires dotted the valley, groups of people gathered around them. In between the bright bursts of the bonfires were smaller, softer orange spots of light emanating from what were likely cooking fires. Tents were sort of grouped together in randomly situated clumps, while there were a few RVs and a couple folks living out of camper shells on truck beds. Still others were braving the elements and sleeping directly outside, sleeping bags strewn around like so many discarded rags.

Some people had begun impromptu concerts, creating the majority of the noise we’d heard as we approached. Crowds were gathered around musicians with everything from electric guitars to makeshift DJ booths running off generators – both solar and electric. People were singing along to old folk songs, classic rock, and others were popping and locking to remixes of tracks I hadn’t heard in years.

And in the center of it all was the thing we’d come to witness. It looked like a vortex, or maybe a vortex within a sinkhole. The ground beneath it seemed to have completely collapsed in an almost perfect circle, and this swirling mass had been what surfaced. It wasn’t one color, but seemed to cycle through all of them as it spiraled in on itself. A wooden walkway had been constructed around the perimeter, and there were people walking hand in hand, as if they were walking down the boardwalk at a beach.

“I feel like maybe we should’ve brought our tent. Or… something.”

We hadn’t really thought it through. Oliver and I had assumed just going to see this would result in our deaths. Though that wasn’t something we talked about on the drive. How do you bring that up, anyway? So, hey, we’re probably going to die in the next day or so – how does that make you feel? Should we stop and get some flowers to carry with us? The plan hadn’t involved actually surviving much longer than the first day. The radio broadcasts had failed to mention the sheer number of people camping around it, and the slow rate of expansion.

“Yeah, well… I mean, we can always go back.”

I shook my head, staring at the vortex. “There was a riot going on at that WalMart in town. I don’t think they’re going to have any kind of supplies left.”

“No, I mean, like… go back home.”

As if that had ever been an option from the start. It’d been all we could talk about since it first appeared. We’d wanted to go see it, to be present for the end of everything, and to face it on our own terms. Now he wanted to back out? I frowned.

“We came all this way. The car’s at least a half mile back, and it’s out of gas.”

“There’s a gas can in the trunk. It’s full. Would at least get us to a gas station. If you want, I mean.” He finally looked at me, and I could see… something in his blue eyes. It wasn’t quite fear, but it wasn’t confidence, either.

A loud horn sounded behind us, and I screamed, grabbing on to Oliver. He spun around, swinging me with him, and then shoved me to the side of the road before he stepped out of the way. One of those eighteen-wheeler trucks had come rumbling up behind us and we hadn’t noticed. The driver looked a mix of irritated and amused, waving to us as he continued on, down the other side of the hill and toward the throngs of people.

“What the hell is that?!” I tried to get a handle on my breathing, one hand on my chest.

He smirked, shaking his head at my panicked state. “A reminder that, even though the world is ending, it’s a bad idea to stand in the middle of the road.”

“I’m so glad you find this funny.” I narrowed my eyes, then grabbed his hand and began marching forward, intent on dragging Oliver behind me if I had to. We hadn’t come all this way, and now been almost run over, to not see whatever the hell this was.

“Hey! I was there, too, in the middle of the road! I almost got hit, too! I’m just not the one who’s acting all indignant about it.” I could hear the amusement in his voice as he let me pull him for a few steps, then started walking along beside me. He squeezed my hand. “I wasn’t laughing at you. I was laughing at the fact that the whole plan behind coming here was that we weren’t coming back, but we still want to survive. Instinctively.”

“Well, nobody ever really wants to die, Oliver.”

“That’s debatable.”

“Suicide is different.”

“How?”

“Because they don’t want to die. Suicide victims just feel like it’s their only option. If they could fix it and give themselves another option, they would. Come on. It’s basic psychology.”

“Point taken. But I wasn’t talking about suicide.”

“Cult members and people who put themselves at risk of dying for religious causes are victims of brainwashing. I don’t think that counts, either.”

“Someone paid attention in Psych 202.”

The crowds grew in number the closer we came to the vortex. We skirted the groups of tents and cooking fires, offering polite smiles and waves wherever we found people looking up to stare curiously at us. Music permeated everything, and I spent a few moments putting a finger in one ear and then the other. It was like changing radio stations.

I didn’t entirely notice the other sounds. And when I did, they seemed to not really have a point of origin. Were they coming from in front of us? I couldn’t tell, and had decided to ignore them, until Oliver grabbed my arm.

“Wait. Wait.”

We stopped about a hundred yards short of the boardwalks. I looked behind us, wondering if there was some way I was misplacing the noise, but then I heard the noises again. I jerked my head around to look forward again, up at the boardwalks.

“Is that screaming?”

“Yeah, I think that’s what it is.” Oliver shivered, staring warily toward the vortex. “I’m not real sure what’s going on, but this doesn’t seem like it was a great idea.”

“Well, I mean, the end of the world never seems like a good idea.” I tried to smile, but it felt weird. We both knew I was faking anyway. “Look, we didn’t come all this way for nothing, though, so… Let’s just go, okay?”

He was quiet; indecisive. Oliver was one of the most decisive guys I’d ever known. Right or wrong, Oliver would make a decision and stick with it. Yet here he was, conflicted about what to do next. That he was second guessing himself worried me, but I took his hand in mine, stepping forward again and trying to tug him along behind me.

“Look, just stay behind me a little, okay? At least until we figure out what’s going on up there.” With a few quick strides, Oliver was now in the lead, so to speak, with me trailing about a half step behind him.

“I’ll try, but really, what’s the worst that could happen?”

I got no response, which meant Oliver was becoming irritated by my cavalier attitude. I shut my mouth – kept me warmer, anyway – and continued to follow. By the time we reached the stairs to the nearest boardwalk, it loomed over us. Like in one of those old Western films, when they’re giving the criminal’s perspective as he’s sizing up the gallows. I shuddered at the accuracy of that analogy.

“We’re this far, now. Come on. Just… go slow and be aware of people around you.”

Oliver was pulling on my hand, and I realized I’d stopped abruptly, just looking up at the staircase. I looked at him, and there was a moment of shared fear, with a hint of excitement. It was stupid, what we were doing. But it was also exciting. Somehow, we were walking that knife’s edge, though I was sure we were on the verge of falling into stupid territory really quickly.

For as unstable as it looked, the stairs leading up to the boardwalk were rather sturdy. They felt so hard under my feet, I thought maybe I’d worn the soles of my boots thin after the walk from the car. The further up the stairs we went, the louder the screams were. They would start off loud, then fade away. And in groups, at that. Going in waves. Oliver stopped us at the top.

“Look.”

I really didn’t want to. But I did, because where else was I going to look? Taking the final step to the top, I looked out across the boardwalk. And that’s when I saw her.

A woman in her fifties, with streaks of silver in her dirty blonde hair, meandered along the very edge of the boardwalk. Her arms were held out on either side, like when kids walk up on balance beams. A smile lit up her face, and her eyes were wide as she stared down at her feet. She seemed lost in a happy daydream, just walking along on the edge. Clearly, some folks were a bit more close to falling into stupid territory than Oliver and I.

“The hell is she doing? Is she on drugs?” I took a step toward her, but Oliver quickly yanked me backward. I yelped my protestation and he growled.

“Are you stupid?! What are you gonna do? Pull her back, and then get pulled down yourself? Hell, no.”

“If it’s going to swallow us all alive, the hell does that matter?”

“If we’re going to die, I’m not watching you go down being some sort of selfless moron. We’re going to do it together, if it’s supposed to happen at all.”

I fixed him with a look. “What do you mean? If it’s supposed to happen at all? This thing has been growing. That’s what they’ve said.”

“Yeah, Becks, but who’s they? Which they?” Oliver flung his arm out, gesturing at all the people up on the boardwalk. “If it’s growing, if it’s going to swallow the earth, why has it stayed the same size long enough for people to build this?” He pointed at the planks beneath our feet.

The argument was hard to refute. But we’d been told, through radio broadcasts and word of mouth, that this thing – this vortex – was swallowing people whole. That there was nothing left of the ground beneath it. That scientists had dug in the ground nearby and it’d let more of the vortex out before swallowing them whole, too.

But what we were seeing here, now, with our own eyes, contradicted all of it. I looked around, gently shaking Oliver’s hand off my arm. The woman I’d first noticed wasn’t the only one who was behaving so strangely. There were others, walking along the edge. Maybe not quite so close, but enough so that I worried that they might fall in.

“I… don’t know. Oliver, I honestly don’t know. We came here knowing this shit would be weird. Now we’re here and we’ve got the weird. Tada!”

I turned to look at him, but he was staring at the vortex. I followed his gaze, taking advantage of the opportunity to look at it a little better up close. It seemed to glow from no apparent source, swirling in varying shades of blue, purple, and black. The movement was mesmerizing, really, if you let yourself watch it for too long, you could really get lost in it. The idea crossed my mind to get a bit closer, to have a better look at it. Something about that idea seemed wrong, though. A gut feeling. And yet the desire to get closer was growing stronger. I started feeling… lighter.

“Whoa… Oliver, do you feel that?” I turned to look at him again, but Oliver was gone. Not gone entirely, but away from me and closer to the edge of the boardwalk. “Hey! Oliver.”

He either hadn’t heard me, or he was ignoring me. Instead, he just kept walking. I wondered if he had gotten caught up in staring at the vortex, like other people had. Like I almost had. I didn’t go to him, though, not right then. I stood back and watched. Just watched him, and then the other people.

And then I saw the first one fall in. Or maybe they were pulled. They seemed to not really… realize what it was they were doing. Not until they’d already gone past the point of no return. It was as though once gravity had gotten hold of them, and they really began falling, then they understood what was happening.

And that’s when the screaming started.

Moments after, the screaming would fade away.

Just like they faded away. Quietly. Suddenly. Gone.

I couldn’t tell what happened to them, exactly, except that they’d basically disappeared. I wanted to jump off the boardwalk, take a look underneath. But I’d need Oliver’s help. He tended to be more rationally minded than I would be, and he’d be able to help us down safely.

Except now I couldn’t find him.

My palms immediately became sweaty, and my heart skipped a few beats. Frantically scanning the boardwalk, I prayed Oliver hadn’t jumped during the last round.

Another scream came from my left, and the woman I’d been watching earlier fell in and quickly disappeared. Gone.

And then I found Oliver.

He’d been walking maybe twenty feet behind her. Not doing the balancing routine, but walking, watching the edge of the vortex. His hands were stuffed in his jacket pockets, and his eyes looked hollow, like he’d checked out.

I had to get him away from the edge. Before he jumped, too.

It didn’t take much to cross the boardwalk, three or four strides, and I was at his side, grabbing the hand nearest to me out of his pocket. “Oliver! Oliver, come on, babe.”

He didn’t respond. Oliver just kept walking. I pulled at his arm again. “Oliver! Wake up!”

I shook his arm as hard as I could. Still nothing. Spinning around, I walked backwards in front of him. The mesmerizing pull of the vortex danced in my peripheral vision, and I struggled to focus entirely on Oliver.

“Hey! You! Asshole! Wake. The hell. up!”

I stopped dead in my tracks and shoved at him. It was an impulsive decision, and a risky move, at that. If I pushed too hard, if he was too limp in his reaction, I could have pushed him off the edge, into the vortex.

Thankfully, he didn’t. He just stopped and stared at me for a moment. A frown pulled the corners of his mouth down and his forehead creased as he looked at me. He seemed confused.

“Oliver. Come on.” I cleared my throat. My voice was shakier than I would’ve liked. “We’re gonna get down from here. Go take in some of the music.”

He still didn’t say anything, but his focus on the vortex seemed shaken. Strained, at the very least. But I was getting frustrated, and more panicked when another round of screams began. More people falling in. How much longer would I have a hold on him before he’d go right back to the walking, and then the falling?

“You said we were going to do this together. And now, here you are, trying to throw yourself into the end of the world without me?!” Before I could really piece together what I was doing and consider it rationally, I slapped Oliver across the face.

I’d never slapped him before. My palm stung and I gasped in surprise at myself, watching him.

“The hell was that for?!” Now he looked pissed, gingerly rubbing his cheek.

I let out a huge sigh. “Oh, thank god. Come on, already. We need to go.”

This time, he went with me when I pulled his arm, and I couldn’t get off that damn boardwalk fast enough. I scrambled down the stairs, Oliver following behind me.

“Babe. Slow down! What the… the hell just happened back there?!”

“I don’t know, but I don’t like it. And we’re leaving. You said there’s a gas tank in the car, right? Let’s just… I don’t even care. I want to go home now, and I want to wait for the world to end from the comfort of our bed. If this thing is going to swallow us alive, I’m going to let my earthly existence end while we’re having some of the most amazing sex ever. Covered in chocolate. Whipped cream, even. I know they say that’s bad for you if you use it during sex, but screw it, we’re going to die anyway, let’s live a little before we do.”

A wave of relief crashed over me when my feet hit the grass. Had I not been in such a hurry to get away, I might have wanted to drop to my knees and kiss the ground.

I didn’t have time for that, though. Oliver grabbed my arm and yanked me around to face him. I spun wildly, and he grabbed my face between those two huge hands of his, making me look at him.

“What. The hell. Are you talking about? What just happened to me back there? One minute, I’m looking at the vortex, the next you’re slapping me and I only vaguely remember feeling like maybe I should reach out and touch the thing.”

“And that’s the problem. Look. We came, we saw, and we got the shit scared out of us, so we need to go. Okay? Please, babe? Please.”

He took a few moments to consider everything, and I fidgeted impatiently. Hopefully, the mention of letting the world end while we were having sex was enough to really close the deal there. I mean, sure, the fear of dying while not in control of his mental faculties was probably also high up there on the priority list, but I was feeling selfish.

“Alright. Let’s go. But… just… Becks, don’t make a fuss, okay?” Oliver let go of my face, sliding an arm around me and starting off again toward the crowds. Away from the vortex.

Which was good. The further away we were from the vortex, the more the fear subsided. I started to relax, leaning against Oliver as we walked. I’d seen the end of the world, and I’d walked away. Talk about gutsy, right?

I started to look more closely at the people who’d gathered to camp out and watch this phenomenon. The ones who were grouped around cooking fires, listening to music being performed by everyone from street musicians to professionals, and others who were simply talking. Some of them seemed to be watching, like I was.

The suits threw me off. It was only a glimpse of a white button down under a dirty winter coat. A flash of a tie or a suit jacket beneath the lapels of a flannel. Hair up in a coiffe or too neatly combed for someone who’d, by all other appearances, been staying out here for some time.

I waited until we got back to the car to tell Oliver about the badge I’d found on the ground, under some dirt, when I’d stopped to tie my shoe. Especially the name of the organization printed on the card.

Federal Department of Population Control

 

 

This work by Lin Clements is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.