He decided to walk back into town. After the fire stopped reining, he just sat there for a bit, taking everything in. He wasn't upset, not yet anyway, just peaceful. He could have walked back out into the country, but the thought of mere countryside didn't appeal to him. Not yet anyway.
So he walked and walked back to where he came. A slightly different way, but more or less the same. The sky was still on fire, and burned a mighty orange, with streaks of a blackened grey stretching long across the skyline. So were some of the bigger buildings in the distance, in town. That big square castle on top of the only hill, which he always accused of as being really "dull for a castle" was on fire. So was the big clock tower, he could see that. The Roman Catholic cathedral seemed ok though.
The streets were pretty much deserted. He walked down one of the main streets, the same one he had started on a couple hours ago. There still seemed to be a lot of noise and chaos for a street that had just been apparently obliterated. Car engines were still running, the chip shop still had a pungent smell, and a lot of distressed birds flew about the place, trading one building for another. He looked ahead and saw that there had been quite a pile up of cars outside the street's shops. at least 5 or 6 cars had tangled together in a knot in the middle of the road, with some blood and parts strewn across the scene; one of the cars was even on fire. He couldn't see any bodies though.
He decided, like the birds, this street was a bit too distressing and turned left at the next corner on a uphill residential street. He lived in a similar area to this. Not very far away from this one actually, one of those more eccentric suburbia's just outside the city centre rather that more out towards the country side. These were mostly built up of those Georgian to Victorian era houses that were bunched together in large clusters and were originally built as quick as possible in order to maintain the industrial revolution. It was pretty amazing they still stood as strong as ever, given people couldn't even build new houses that stand longer than a year any more. He thought about all the families and history that still live on in these houses; none were particularly important individuals but as a force were apart of one our most defining eras; funny how now all that was left to show for this heritage was multiple amounts of students, just as overcrowded as those families were all those years ago.
It was a lot more peaceful now, even that eerie tension in the air and in the wind seemed to have dropped. He imagined it like any other sunny winter's afternoon. He walked up and over the hill of the street, and back down it again. Walked and walked. He looked in the windows of the abandoned houses. He imagined people there. People living their normal lives. Maybe they weren't so selfish after all. He imagined seeing a kid, only a few years younger that himself, riding a bike delivering papers to all the different houses that looked the same.
He turned left onto a much bigger street. Still just houses, but the road was wider and there were large skeleton like trees up ahead. He walked past a large funeral services shopped. "Heh" was all he could say, and he was getting mighty sick of using that laugh about everything. Beyond the large building, there was a long alleyway. "Strange," he thought "I've never known these to be here before.". The alleyway stretched out far; must have run parallel with the road, and had tall, old fashioned black street lamps with what looked like lanterns at the top of each. The road was brick paved, was neither too narrow or wide and the walls were made of garden fences and garages. He felt compelled to walk it.
So with a turn, he walked right down the middle of the brick alleyway, studying the graffiti on the garages and the fences as he walked. It looked even more deserted here, the sun shone from the low right, starting to fall off the face of the earth for the night. A cold wind bled from the West, blowing his scarf and hair. The alleyway, with it's old fashioned street lamps reminded him of old footage from World War II Germany; people hiding in their houses while soldiers marched through the back alleys. School wasn't that far in the past after all. It looked like a bomb and fell on the place. This was no longer heartland England in the 21st century.
There was a right turn at the end of the long alleyway. This was only short, but it lead to a road, and directly opposite, the alley way continued. However, there was a large white van blocking the next alleyway. So, instead, he took a detour down a road which he guessed ran parallel with the alleyway too. He quickly found another entrance to the alley and headed straight into it. This one was similar to the last, except this time trees creeped over the fences and the garages; the sun hid behind them. He stood there for a second, until he thought he could hear laughter. He wasn't sure if it was the wind or his mind playing tricks, but, no, really, he could hear laughter. Child's laughter at that.
He craned his neck to the left, to the end of the alleyway where the van had sat. He still saw the back of the van, but just behind it, he could see children playing. Children, about 4 of them, 2 girls, 2 boys, playing with a ball, and laughing. Ghosts. He decided they must be ghosts. No one survived such a brutal punishment. No one except him.
He began to turn, and was about to start walking in the opposite direction, when he saw white flakes, falling from the sky. Snow... "Odd" he thought, it sure didn't seem cold enough to be snowing. He looked upwards; not a cloud in the sky. Just a sun sitting on the edge of the oblivion and a sky getting darker by the minute. And it still the "snow" fell. Heavier by the minute. Then he realised. This wasn't snow, impossible. This was ash. This was the remnants of the buildings and the people that once lived here.
He preferred imagining it was snow. Snow from his childhood. Snow from better times. There was nothing more peaceful than snow. He continued walking, down the darkened alleyways. He was about to reach the end when, he spotted something to his right. A cat, sitting on top of one of the rows of garages. This was no ghost. This was the real thing. It was an orange/grey fluffy thing which started back at him with cold, uncompromising, yellow eyes. This was a cat of experience, he'd seen what had taken place today, and wasn't that surprised by it. He stopped in front of the cat and they looked at each other for a while. He tried moving towards the cat, but it didn't budge, just followed him with his staring eyes. When he offered a hand, the cat still refused. After a moment he sighed and gave up and walked away, walked to the end of the alley and back onto the road. He was now where the tall trees where that he'd seen before; he had done 3 parts of a full square, it would seem.
He began walking towards the sinking sun, it was practically night now. Walked in the shadow of these huge trees, hundreds of years old and wise. Then, suddenly, he stopped. Nothing happened for a moment, he just froze. And then, started crying. There was a flood of feelings and emotions about everything that had just happened. The honeymoon period was over, this had been fully realised.
"I've got to get out of here" he sobbed.
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