The Day After the End of the World - C1

Mr Greene wrapped his hand around the butt of the rifle, his arm quivering. His index finger feathered the trigger. He closed his eyes briefly, took a deep breath and returned to the smiling face at the end of the sight. He had never held a gun before, let alone fired one. He heard nothing, smelled nothing. The bitterness on his tongue made him salivate; a small round droplet trickling from the edge of his mouth. People hustled by; children laughed. He rested the heavy barrel on the table, his elbows embedding in the soft fibre. Relax. Breathe. His eyes bore on the target, his gaze unwavering. The face was motionless, smiling, taunting. He did not allow it to intimidate him. He held firm and with a gentle squeeze of his right index finger, the bullet struck the grinning face, embedding itself in its forehead. The face crumpled and fell backwards, still smiling, still goading.

'Dad, dad, you did it, you did it.' Sean was bounding around his legs.

'We have a winner!' the stallholder announced. He flipped up the metal face, the bullet dropping to the floor, 'Yes, we have a winner.'

'Dad, dad, we won, we won. Can I pick something? Please, can I?'

Mr Greene smiled. He released his grip on the rifle and rested it down on the bench in front of him, 'Sure, go on pick something.'

'What is it to be, boy?' the stallholder asked.

'I want a bear, a big bear. Can I have a bear? That big one up top?' Sean pointed up at a large fawn bear, its hazelnut eyes reflecting in the stall lights.

'Of course you can,' the stallholder replied. He reached up with a metal hook and grabbed the stuffed toy.

'I'm going to called it Ralph,' Sean announced.

'That's a good name,' the stall keeper responded. He passed the bear over to Sean, their hands briefly grazing each other.

'Dad! Dad! Look at Ralph.' Sean tossed the bear in the air. Mr Greene was oblivious to Sean's excitement.

'Are you okay?' Mr Greene asked the stallholder. The man's face was grey, the blood drained from his skin. He stumbled, resting both hands on the counter.

'I'm fine. I'll- be okay.'

Mr Greene raised one eyebrow and without taking his eyes of the man, he gestured Sean to his side.

'Sean, it's time for us to go.' They turned their back and walked away from the stall.

The bustling crowd were running, screaming, searching for fun, looking to win that big prize. Coloured lights flashed throughout the park, red, green, and blue in random sequences illuminating the night sky. Screams echoed around the makeshift footpaths, thrill-filled screams, screams from tired children and screams from arguing adults. They mingled in the night breeze, one cacophony, disorientating and energising.

'I think it's time we went home,' Mrs Greene said. She grabbed Sean's other hand, Ralph dangling loosely between them.

'Oh Mum, one more ride, please?'

'Sean, it's late. It's already passed your bedtime,' Mr Greene responded.

'Oh, okay.' Sean skipped along to the fairground music.

Mr Greene glanced over at Mrs Greene, her sapphire eyes glistening back at him. They smiled, lifted Sean from the ground, swung him gently, and then lowered him back.

They jostled their way through the crowds until they reached the gate of the car park. The screams and music subsided behind them. Mr Greene searched his pockets for the car keys. Mrs Greene and Sean wandered further ahead. He patted his coat pockets. From the darkness, a firm pressure pushed down on his right shoulder, fingers pressing deep in to his collarbone. Mr Greene tried to sweep the sturdy hand away but it remained fixed. He swivelled round in frustration. The hand was gone.

Mr Greene squinted his eyes. A man stood in the shadow, his face masked by a black Stetson pulled below his eyes, his body wrapped in a black oilskin coat, the collar pulled up around his neck.

'Mr Greene,' the stranger announced.

Mr Greene shuffled Sean and Mrs Greene behind him.

'Yes?'

'I am so glad I caught you.' The man flipped back his hood exposing a hard worn face. His eyes gleamed between the wrinkles. His face warped and stretched. A small white scar ran from the side of his right eye to his light pink lips. He ran his fingers through his long, straight black hair, inflating life back into it.

'You're the man from the stall, are you not?' Mr Greene asked.

'Yes'

'Why are you following us? How did you know my name?' Mr Greene shuffled backwards, pulling Mrs Greene and Sean in tight behind.

'It doesn't matter how I know your name. I have something for you?'

'We don't want it, thanks'. Mr Greene turned to face Mrs Greene and Sean. The stranger grabbed his shoulder again, twisting Mr Greene round on his feet, 'Hey. What the hell do you think you're doing?'

'You don't understand, Joseph'. The stranger reached in to his jacket, produced a green ticket, and handed to Mr Greene.

'What's this?' Mr Greene asked

'Well, it's the grand prize of course'

Mr Greene examined the ticket. It was a blank green piece of paper. He flipped it over. That was blank too, no writing, no markings, nothing.

'I don't understand?' Mr Greene asked.

'You won the grand prize today.'

'But it's a blank piece of paper.'

The stranger chuckled, 'The prize will be delivered to you. Keep this paper in a safe place. You will need it when we deliver it.'

Mr Greene turned to Mrs Greene and Sean.

'Are you both okay?' he asked holding the ticket in the air.

'We're fine,' Mrs Greene responded.

Mr Greene crumpled the ticket, pushing it in to his trouser pocket.

'How do you know my name and how do you know where I live.' He turned searching the answer from the stranger, but he was gone, lost in the darkness.

The music screeched to a close, the lights went out and the remnants of the fun lovers trundled their way home or back to their cars, passing Mr Greene and his family.

'I think that's enough excitement for one night,' Mr Greene announced, 'let's get ourselves off home'.