I was there the day the Earth burned.
It kicked off with a deafening bang. The Orbis Mark 4 escape pod had never been designed for a “softly, softly” approach to takeoff. But then the last thing you need at the end of the world is something soft, or cautious. It’s pretty much the first thing the drill instructors had taught us all those years ago. And it’s safe to say that after today, there was no way any of us were going to forget it. I’m just grateful that all my squad had made it. The last 12 left alive.
Exploding out of the launch tube, the true horror of the situation could now be appreciated. Through a few small viewing holes beneath our feet all we could do was watch hell on Earth finish off what was left of the defenses. As we accelerated away from our home planet we saw the true extent of the raging fire below. This was certainly no drill. The war between the Unknown had been fuming for almost a year now. And after Human population figures had reached a critical cessation level of 2 million, all outcries for help had gone unanswered, and the impending nature of the situation had finally sunk in to high command, the order to evacuate Earth had been given. Thank whatever God was left that trained soldiers like us, not innocent civilians, were the last ones left planet side.
As we sat there, everything seemed to slow down for a moment. Everyone in the cabin was still, restless in our own solitude. Below, the bright red torment taking over our beloved terra nova grew as we flew further and further away. Only the feeling of horror did not. I could see that lamentation on all our faces as we climbed into the clouds. And as they engulfed our displays, a similar fogging thought filled my head. It was wild with questions.
While my military side searched the far corners of my brain for tactical solutions, the civilian side tried to deal with the fear that was penetrating me from all angles. Shaking it off, my mind returned me to the contrastingly silent cabin. Everyone was in too much shock to say anything. My head sank again between my legs.
Slowly, the windows below us began to fog up. Frost crept in from every corner, choking off the chaos below. It was unstoppable. The higher we climbed from the war zone we were leaving behind, the more damned the situation had felt, the more unable we were to help. It was a perfect metaphor, leaving me little to do but sit back and contemplate my decisions.
I had chosen to give the order of retreat. It was my fault that the Earth had finally fallen into inhumane hands. And so I would make it my mission to return it. We were the final people with our feet firmly planet side and I, literally, the last man to be on Earth. What a legacy. And with that thought I couldn’t help but let out a small smile. Catching such an odd sense of emotion at a time of total devastation, one of my crewmen finally broke the deadly silence. From across the cabin, he yelled against the roaring engines “Something funny?”
“I was just thinking, having actually been the last men on Earth, it might help our chances next time we cross a decent bar.”
I could tell by his stone-cold stare that he didn’t share in the randomness of my thoughts. And then the cockpit went black.
Everything was now thrown into darkness. We had safely cleared the atmosphere, and escaped into space. The lonely, dark, endless and ultimate abyss of space. Safe was the wrong word. We were far from safety. We were simply out of the frying planet.
I looked back down at the viewing window one last time. It had all but been covered up by the frost. Space was cold. Damn cold. Nothing kept it out, as it filled the cockpit like a heavy, all encompassing mist. At this point I couldn’t tell if it was the sadness that had tiptoed into the hearts and minds of my crewmates, the dark endlessness of space that now lay before us, or just the fact that we had still not heard anything on the coms from the fleet. And with that, everything seemed to feel so final.
As we drifted away from our home world, everything was quiet. We all took a moment to let the feeling sink on. What was there to say anyway? We were there when our plant fell from human hands.
We were there the day the Earth burned.
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