My last piece of Paper

“I’m dreaming. I…..must…..be……dreaming.”

Paul struggled to wake himself from the stupor that clouded his mind. His eyes slowly took in his surroundings and sent a question to his sluggish brain, “Where is everyone?”

Perhaps, Paul thought, “I really am dreaming. Soon I will awaken and all will be as it should be.”


Determined to regain control, he listened for sounds of life. There were none. The world was silent and the only echo was the constant pounding in his skull. Paul began to talk to himself.

“How odd that I don’t recognize anything. Wasn’t it just minutes ago that I sat outside the Cafe Nero in Manchester? How I love this city…
coldly modern glass and steel jutting up between the remnants of early 19th Century limestone buildings. Just 5 miles to either side and you are in a world of green fields and colorful thatched houses dating back to a lost age. “

As his mind cleared, Paul tasted a lingering bit of cappuccino on his tongue. The nutty flavor of the Italian roasted beans was so intense that for a brief moment, he could almost feel it warming his cold body as it had– as it had when?

“How long have I been lying here?”

The thought brought Paul sharply back to the present.

“I remember watching people bustle about their business like an army of ants returning to their camp. I remember the sun. Oh, yes, the sun. Without warning, it vanished and the sky turned grey...not the slate grey that threatens rain, but steel grey like a dust storm in the Arizona desert. Strange. Why should I think of deserts here in the United Kingdom where the air is mostly cold and damp?”

Shifting his body so that he could better see the streets around him, Paul realized that everything he knew, everything he took for granted, was gone. No buildings graced the skyline. No cars rumbled up the road. The mangy dog that always pestered him while he relaxed at the little umbrella table on the sidewalk was nowhere to be seen. There was only nothingness. Fear gripped Paul’s heart.

“Cheryl. Cheryl and Georgina. Please God, no. Let them be safe.”


Cheryl was Paul’s 47 year old wife, whom he adored. Despite a disability that made life difficult for her, she still managed to care for her husband and daughter and their home without complaint. Paul smiled thinking of how he teased Cheryl by saying she was “the most cuddly full bodied” woman in the world.

Georgina, his precious soon to be teenage daughter, was quite slim, almost athletic. She loved to sing and dance, and Paul could see her in his mind’s eye performing her favourite songs in front of her bedroom mirror. She had a pure, sweet voice that always filled his heart with wonder that she was his.

Paul, at 53, would describe himself as having a rather large build. This was a condition of later life when activity levels fell off and the obligations of marriage and caring for one’s family replaced sports and leisure time. Whereas his body may have lost some of its conditioning, his mind was still sharp and quick witted.

Beginning to panic, Paul prayed that his wife and child had been spared from….from what? He considered the possibility of a nuclear or chemical attack but quickly put those fears aside. He knew that, if such an attack had taken place, he would not be alive to consider the possibility.

“I have to move. Move, damn it.”

By sheer force of will, Paul managed to sit up. He was not in pain. All his body parts were intact. Fingers wiggled. Feet shifted. Yes, he appeared to be fine except for the cloud that hung over his mind and prevented him from thinking clearly. A quick gust of wind blew across his face and, for a moment, he felt refreshed. When he looked down, in his lap, placed there by Mother Nature’s sneeze, was a small piece of paper.

“I must write. This could be my last chance to tell Cheryl and Georgina what has happened to me. I love you. I love you. I love you both so much!”

But, there is no pen to stain the paper -- only thoughts that leave no imprint. Paul feels desolation closing in. All that he cares about and loves is gone. He wills himself to follow.

Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

“Can it be,” Paul thinks, as the roar of an engine assaults his ears. “Am I saved? Is there hope for the world?”

Silence settles upon him once again. Another dream. Another nightmare. Suddenly, he is jerked upright and held in a powerful grasp. A man with Herculean strength plunges a needle deep below his skin, and he feels warmth akin to nothing he has known before as the fluid fills his veins. Lifted and cradled by powerful arms, he is carried to the helicopter that stands waiting a few feet away.

His mind is screaming.

“What’s happening? Where are you taking me? Answers. I need answers.”

“Please,” he whimpers, “I need…
….”

The last thing Paul remembers is closing his fingers tightly around the piece of paper he had been holding. This paper, this torn, dirty remnant of someone else’s life had suddenly become more precious than gold.

“Relax and rest.”


The man propped Paul’s head up so he could see his rescuer. A well weathered face, darkly tanned and lined, held deep set eyes of green filled with compassion. Paul was certain that his rescuer had many stories to tell and that behind those eyes lay the answer to all his fears.

Paul was silently questioning the stranger’s intent when he spoke again.

“You are one of the lucky ones.”

This was not what Paul wanted to hear. Again, terror for Cheryl and Georgina plight filled his heart.

“I know you have questions, but I cannot tell you anything more than you have witnessed for yourself. We simply do not know what happened, but this same phenomenon occurred in London 3 hours ago and all over the USA yesterday. God knows where else and how many have been affected”

“What about survivors? My wife and daughter?”

“First things first. My name is Corporal Hatchett, but you can call me Hatch. I am with Special Forces. All survivors have been taken to a secret location in The Lake District. Give me your wife and child’s names and address, and I’ll radio them in. If I find out anything, I will let you know.”

There was hope and Paul clung to it like a baby wrapping his fist around his mother’s finger. Sensing that Paul was in discomfort, Hatchett shot another sedative into his arm and, gradually, Paul felt himself released into a blessed state of unconsciousness where all his worries faded away.

Paul’s last thought before fading into oblivion was of the future.

“When I awake, will there be a tomorrow?”

Paul awoke to hear Hatchett in muffled conversation with the radio operator. He lay quietly for a few moments, trying to hear what they were saying. Eventually, he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“Glad you could rejoin us.” commented Hatchett, “You’ve been out for some time. we should reach Tango One in 10 minutes or so”.

“What news do you have?” enquired Paul.

Hatch hesitated before answering, “There is no easy way to say this. Your wife and child were brought in but have been moved to a Highly Classified location.They’re alive. That’s all I know. I don’t have high enough clearance to delve into it any further. I’m sorry.”

Hatch sat down beside Paul and looked at him with knowing eyes.

Paul’s gaze froze as he fought to quell the growing rage That threatened to overtake his usual rational way of thinking. He realised that, although Hatch’s usefulness was negligible, he was still dependant upon him for his survival. There was no one else Paul could trust.

After a moment, Hatch spoke again. “We are still trying to evaluate what happened.”

“Any ideas?” asked Paul, Desperately hoping for even a trickle of new information that would explain the jigsaw puzzle world that lay around him.

“Logic points to a meteor strike That would account for such a vast area being hit..”

“Is that likely or even possible on such a huge scale?”

“We are considering every possibility. Debris showers from Mars, the moon and, ultimately, the Asteroid Belt are always entering our atmosphere . We never notice Them because most burn up on re-entry. Think what would happen if they did not burn up.”

Paul’s already furrowed brow became more troubled as the answer to Hatch’s question grew clearer.

“Yes, I can see your point if we had an impact in space Large enough to fragment the asteroid belt 10, 100, perhaps, 1000 times what we’re used to.”

“Exactly,” Hatch concluded.

“It is feasible that meteors the size of buses could knock out our warning systems, explaining why no alarm was raised. The impact would cause tremors similar to earthquakes, flattening structures and causing a disruption to utilities.”

“ So, by that reasoning, poisonous gases or vapours could be released into the atmosphere.”

Paul was overwhelmed by the improbability of the scenario, but what else could it have been?

Maybe, when they reached their destination, they would find the answers to these questions. More importantly, Paul wanted to know why his wife and child had been moved to another location> What was Hatch not telling him?

As the helicopter lost altitude, making a low sweep over the sparse countryside, Paul was surprised to see the once lush landscape now a palette of browns and beiges tinged with black where trees had burned like torches in the night.

Hatchett tried to strike up a conversation.

“Look I think we need to get a few things out in the open. You don’t trust me, and that’s understandable, but all we have at the moment is us.“

Hatchett held out his hand to Paul, who looked into his eyes and, for an instant, saw the icy glare soften.

Paul grasped Hatchett’s hand in unspoken allegiance, both men recognizing their dependency on the other.

The helicopter dipped and Paul saw Lake Windermere, unravelling like a ribbon below them. The water kept getting closer.

“Why are we descending?“ Paul asked Hatchett, but even as he spoke, he remembered his grade school geography and the fairly large island opposite Bowness. If he remembered the topography correctly, there was nowhere for a military helicopter to set down in the rough terrain.

“I guess I was wrong,“ Paul thought to himself as hard ground and skids met causing a jolt to shoot up his spine.

Hatchett slid back the door, and Paul shivered as a cold blast of air entered the interior of the helicopter. Looking out over the vast wetness that was Lake Windermere, Paul realized that it must be at least 18 miles long.

Jumping down with Hatchett at his side, Paul realized that he was inside an old house, probably built somewhere around 1745. The roof and interior walls of the second level had been removed and the helicopter was now hidden safely within the remaining structure.

“We are to go straight to Colonel Messlers office. Be prepared. He’s a right s.o.b.” Hatch said as they made their way downstairs.

On the bottom level, they came to a thick oak door reminiscent of the architecture of the period. Paul was impressed at how the character of the building had been maintained, despite obviously having been commandeered by the military.

AS Hatch opened the door, Paul got his first glimpse of Messler. He gauged his age to be about 60 - 65 years old; He had thinning grey hair cut close as military standards dictated. His posture was ramrod straight.

“I’ll call you if I need you,” Messler told Hatch, who immediately left the room. Eyes filled with fire and ice bore into Paul, almost reaching into his very soul. “Sit,” Messler motioned to the seat opposite him. “You’re probably wondering what this is all about.”

I know you have many questions, but I am more interested in the answers you can provide.” Messler poured two shots of whisky from a crystal decanter and handed one to Paul.

“Your father was working on a project which was rather top secret, My job is to discover just how much, if anything, you know”?

“For years, scientists have been working on trying to put the asteroid belt into an orbit around the sun. The reason is that, at some point in the future, we expect to be hit by a meteorite similar to one that hit the earth 3.65 billion years ago.”

“Our calculations put the event at 100 - 1000 years from now. Your father devised a means of diverting the orbit via a remote connection to one of our orbiting rigs.”

“This would trigger lasers capable of splitting the belt, enabling us to use unmanned drone planes to redirect the debris into the sun’s orbit, diminishing all threats to earth.”

“Unfortunately, your father got greedy and tried to hold up America, Russia, China and anyone else that would listen for ransom. When they all refused to co-operate, he programmed the rigs to blow up the belt; but something went wrong and the belt split apart.”

“The results you have witnessed for yourself. More critically your father set the belt on a collision course with earth.. In an attempt to stop him, we stormed his laboratory, but he had scrambled all the codes and was killed in the ensuing struggle.”

“Now, the salvation of the human race lies in your hands.”

Paul was physically shaking, both with fear for the future and the answers he did not possess. How could he tell Messler that he had not seen his father in eight years.


“We will talk again later.”

Messler dismissed Paul with a shrug. As if on cue Hatchett came into the room and ushered Paul out.

Once they were out of earshot, Hatchett asked how the meeting went.

“He wants answers, but answers that I can’t give him. I haven’t seen or spoken to my father in eight years.“

As the two men approached the bulkhead door, Hatchett grinned, “Prepare yourself for the unbelievable!!.” Paul gave him a quizzical look.

“Haven’t you read Jules Verne?” With a ceremonial wave of his arm, Hatch opened the door onto a long hallway that slanted downhill. Paul felt somewhat disorientated until he realized they were walking under the lake.

“I can see from your face you know where we are. We have more enclaves like this one dotted around the country,” Hatch commented. “ There are underwater compounds at Windermere, Bassenthwaite and Derwentwater and another two at Vrynwy and Bala in Wales.”

“When it became apparent that we were under threat from Meteorites bigger than anything we had anticipated, we made contingency plans and, voila.”

“We knew that there would be casualties as well as great loss of life on land, but knowing that meteors hitting the water would cause the formation of poisonous gases and possibly even tsunamis, it followed that this was the safest place.”

Paul’s eyes wandered in fascination bdown the many passages that branched off from the main hallway. Hatch explained that the hallways held private living quarters, and entertainment complexes which offered almost anything you could think of. Additionally, there were a number of kitchens and a hospital wing for the burnt and injured.

Stopping before a water tight door, Hatch said, “This is your accommodation.”

He entered a code and threw open the door so they could both enter. The room was comfortable with all types of modern conveniencess. There was a fully stocked cooler for refreshments and a TV console which provided up to the minute news and recreational choices.

“Hatch, am I a prisoner here?” Paul asked.

“No, you can go anywhere around here you want , except the main house.”

Hatch continued “Don’t be fooled into thinking they’re no guards. The hallway and bulkheads are lined with hidden sensors. If you wander where you are not supposed to be , you will be zapped with the force of a stun gun. If you don’t move Away from the area quickly enough, you will be zapped again ….. Harder.”

“Remember Messler is a sadistic bastard! He will kill if need be. . There is no other way out. Don’t try finding one.“

Paul slumped into the nearby chair, his face full of despair.

“Hatch, what am I going to do?”

“Look,” Hatch grasped Paul’s hand “ Messler is not a complete fool, I suspect he moved your wife and child to get you to co-operate, but you have to dangle the carrot in front of the donkey to get it to follow.”

“So what is the carrot?”

“In your case it is your father’s dossier. Messler will expect you to start disseminating it, but that will come tomorrow. For now you need food and rest.”

“Take a shower, I’ll be back in an hour. We’ll head over to the food hall. After we’ve eaten, we can think about where we go from here.

“Yes, we,” Hatch smiled

“I said in the helicopter, we needed each other. I don’t like Messler either, and together we’re going to do whatever it is we need to do.”

Once Hatch left and Paul was finally alone, Paul realized that, for the first time in his life, he had someone to depend on other than himself.

My Last Piece of Paper - Part 3

Upon entering the dining hall, Hatchett gave the room a quick cursory glance and then steered Paul to a quiet corner where they would not be overheard. Paul was ravenous, not having eaten in a day, and hatch knew that any conversation would have to wait until their grumbling stomachs had been satisfied.

Once the meal was over, Hatch placed a thick manila folder in front of Paul.

“This is your fathers file.I convinced Messler to hand it over in the hope we might find something in it that others overlooked.”

Paul eyes thye folder cautiously, knowing that once he opened it, he was indentured to Messler for however long this project was going to take. With his mouth set in a grimace, he turned back the cover. The first documents Paul saw was a resume of his father’s early career. After graduating Cambridge with honours, the senior Smith worked for British Aerospace, designing missiles for the RAF. He was well respected and rose rapidly to head the department. Eight years ago, he changed the focus of his research to laser guidance systems and missile deployment.

Then, 3 years ago, the military approached him with their fears of the possible meteor crash and requested his services in finding a solution. The rest was pretty much as Hatch had explained to him.

“This is all we have to go on?!”

Hatch threw his hands in the air

“All we know for sure is that he has altered the orbit of that big chunk of rock, and it’s heading our way. The way I see it is we’re doomed. A year from now calamity is going to strike and we’re in the firing line!”

“Time is on our side for the moment. If only we could figure out how to unlock the access codes that Messler alluded to.”

“Maybe things will look better in the morning. Let’s get some sleep.” Hatch stood and headed for the door.

Too agitated to actually sleep, the two men shared a whisky in Hatch’s room while discussing the day’s events and making plans for the morning. As the sun they could not see finally dipped below the horizon hundred of feet above them, they said good night.

“Uugghh!” Paul stirred awakening from his sleep, “What time is it?”

Hatch threw Paul’s clothes at him “About an hour before sunrise, we have to move we have a long day ahead of us.”

Hatch proceeded to explain the necessity of visiting his fathers laboratory in the hope that it would produce some clues, or that someone however remote the possibility would point them in the right direction.

As they reached the rooftop the helicopter was ready for them and as they boarded and made themselves comfortable it banked sharply to the west.

Hatch flipped the dossier to Paul, “First port of call Harrogate, we should be there in about 45 minutes, apparently your father conducted his latest research from there.”

Paul thumbed through the dossier and could see where Hatch had pencilled in his observations, suddenly Paul’s eyes came to rest on one of the sheets of paper.

It would have been easily overlooked, but in faint pencil was the words NO BOLT it was quite brilliant in it’s simplicity as Paul remembered his fathers assistant Malcolm Boulton whom the clue related to.

However as far as Paul could remember Malcolm had never worked at Harrogate, neither had his father for that matter.

“Head for Skipton Hatch,” Hatch ordered the pilot to change course a quizzical look crossed his face.

“Malcolm worked with my father at Skipton ,” he looked again at the file. “Hatch something is wrong, my father has deliberately given the wrong location, now why would he want to avert detection of the security forces?

“It would appear that your father forsaw his own death?” Hatch continued “There is something else, it would seem that Malcolm may know more than we think.”

The helicopter hovered briefly over the landing site before softly coming to rest on terra firma. Both Paul and Hatch headed in a northerly direction through the town until they eventually came to a cross roads.

“Which Way?” asked Hatch, “We turn left here,” commented Paul “and we should be looking for a cream bungalow with rhododendron in the front garden.”

After walking for half an hour they eventually found the bungalow, everything around showed a well cared for garden, and it was evident the owner took immense pride in his property.

The odd thing was that the front door was wide open, as if someone had forgotten to close it, a sense of foreboding grabbed at Paul briefly.

They entered the property to find it had been completely ransacked, someone had been here before evidently looking for something or Malcolm, where was he?

They eventually found Malcolm in the bedroom, but he would not be able to tell them anything because he had a single bullet hole through the centre of his head, mercifully death would have been instant.
Paul dashed to the bathroom, where nausea finally overcame him, and tears welled in his eyes.

“No one deserves to die like that.”

“This is Messlers’ handiwork” retorted Hatch overcome with a sudden rage, which Paul had not witnessed before, but which unspokenly tightened the bond between the two men.

Hatch’s eyes tightened in fury “My friend, this is now a totally new ballgame, Messler wants something and is using your family as a means to the end.”

“You are the pawn in his chess match, you lose and he will kill your wife and child, on the other hand you lead him to what he wants and he kills you and probably me also.”

“Whether you like it or not, you’re going to have to fight to stay alive and that starts now, search this place from top to bottom see if we can glean anything at all.”

“I will be back later, we need weapons etc, don’t worry you’re safe this is the work of his snipers and they’ll be well gone by now, trust me Paul I know Messler, if we stick together we can get through this.”

Hatch left and Paul reflected on everything that had happened, whilst searching every room meticulously, he wondered just what had he got himself into?

The search was not revealing anything, most of the stuff was just general junk etc, that any single man living on his own would accumulate.

Paul was just about ready to call it a day in the spare room, when suddenly something glinting on the floor captured his attention. It was a key but a key to what exactly? There was nothing in the room for the key to fit into.

Checking back through the house he noticed a tin box which had fallen off a shelf and had been disregarded by whoever had been here before them.

Paul, with trembling hands opened the box with the key to find a notebook inside, he took the notebook out to examine it and found it contained his fathers notes on something, but it all appeared to be gobbledegook!!

At that moment Hatch returned, equipped with enough weaponry, ammo etc, to start World War 3.

Paul showed Hatch the notebook, Hatch looked quizzically at Paul and had to conclude that he did not know what the contents meant either.

“Change of plan, my friend ,” We fly to Leeds this will be our garrison, Messler don’t know about it and as I work for the Yanks undercover we’ll be safe there”

Two hours later they were encamped at Leeds not too dissimilar to the camp in the Lake District the only difference was that this was underground rather than water.

“Paul,” Hatchett popped his head round the door, “I need to level with you man, can we talk?”

Hatch sat down and explained to Paul how the Americans had become suspicious of Messler and his operations. They approached Hatch to assist them undercover as he had served in Operations with the Navy Seals in Afghanistan.

When Hatch had finished explaining everything he turned to Paul “Don’t worry your family will be safe, he’ll be relying on you to bring home the bacon , besides he’s left you in my care!!!”

“The plan is we give him what he wants with a few minor alterations, hopefully this will buy us some time, what we suspect is that the notebook in some way contains the keys to the input codes for the lasers to either blow up or divert the orbit of the asteroid belt. Crucially there should be an extra set which sets the lasers on Russia and China, thereby setting off World War 3 or Armageddon.”