NaNo17-09

Bit of a delayed update, but I'm pushing past 20k words in total at the moment.

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 – Friday, 26^th September, 2025 –

 – 07:52 –

 – Holly –

‘Alright, ladies and gentlemen, let’s just try and keep clear of the buildings, please,’ the policewoman called, stepping out of the car. ‘Yes, you as well, madam. You with the baby.’

‘It’s freezing out here!’ the mother protested.

‘I’ll round up some blankets,’ the policewoman’s colleague interjected.

‘I’ve got some,’ another villager offered, and the policeman nodded, trotting after them, through the nearest open door.

‘Hey,’ an older woman complained, ‘we all need to keep warm!’

‘Alright… okay!’ the policewoman had to raise her voice to be heard over the clamour. ‘Let’s keep the number of people who need to go back inside to a minimum.’

But a mini stampede began, and people crammed back into their houses in search of clothes and warm coats.

Holly and Liam stood cautiously to one side, unsure whether they had effectively been given permission to collect their belongings from the museum. ‘Liam,’ Holly asked, turning to him, ‘can you gather up our things from the office?’

‘Sure,’ he agreed, and turned back to the door.

‘Be careful,’ she warned. ‘And don’t stop for anything else!’

‘I won’t.’

Holly watched him go, then stepped over the to the policewoman. ‘Uh, I’m the curat… I mean, I’m the assistant curator at the museum here.’

‘Good morning, madam.’

‘Oh, call me Holly, please.’

‘No problem, Holly. PC Fiona Foster. What can I do for you?’

‘Fiona,’ Holly explained, ‘we’ve got about five million pounds worth of Saxon artefacts in there.’

‘I know, Holly, we we’re on our way to you, anyway,’ Fiona said. ‘Your alarms went off. The quake, I suppose?’

‘Yes.’

‘You’ve got security doors and the rest of it, haven’t you?’

Holly frowned. ‘Yes, we have, but what if this gets worse?’ A few tiles sipped from the roof of the shop.

‘Lookout!’ someone called, and those left in the street huddled closer to the middle of the road. The baby was crying loudly. Fiona quickly dashed over to provide reassurance, then returned to Holly once the villagers were a little less worried.

‘Listen, Holly…’ Fiona began. ‘Can you keep this to yourself, please? I wouldn’t normally be telling you, but the call handler that sent us here told us he’s got emergency flashes all over the county, and that’s not all.’ She lowered her voice still further. ‘It looks like this is hitting every county up the coast.’

‘I’d heard it had got as far as London,’ Holly added.

‘Well, there’s only two of us in the area,’ Fiona went on. ‘And safeguarding life is a much higher priority –’

‘That’s fine,’ Holly agreed. ‘I just wanted to know where I stood before locking down the exhibits.’

Liam emerged just then, two coats, a scarf, a satchel, and a backpack in his arms. ‘I got it all, Holly.’

‘Thanks, Liam,’ she said, ‘Just hold onto them for a minute or so,’ and she darted back into the museum. 

The situation had deteriorated since she had last been inside; the new plaster in the entrance hall had caved in, and now lay in chunks across the floor. The sealed frame full of photos had tipped off the wall and the pictures were scattered across the tiles. Holly stared with a mixture of wonder and sadness at the damage, and had to stop herself from trying to tidy up. She did a quick sweep of the exhibit halls, then turned for the office, where the security controls were located in a sealed cabinet on the far wall.

As she sorted through her keys for the right one, the ground began to rumble again, and this time it was stronger than anything she had felt thus far.

‘Shit!’ she exclaimed. She had dropped the keys again. Once retrieved, she turned the lock, tore open the door, and flipped all the switches down. She didn’t look back; she knew she had fifteen seconds to be outside, before all the shutters came down. But, she wondered, as she crossed the threshold, with alarms blared and the ground still shaking madly, what sort of mess she would come back to once this was all over.

The police were trying to shepherd everybody up to the church hall, and people held onto each other for support. The lurching in the earth kept throwing Holly’s balance off, but then it subsided again. Liam had hung back, and they both watched the internal shutters descending sealing every door and window. What if they didn’t close? What if the quakes had damaged the runners or bulkheads? But they seemed to come down correctly, and Holly did a quick sweep around the exterior of museum building to check everything looked secure. 

Fiona was waiting in the street, beckoning to the pair to catch up.

‘Bring your bike, Liam,’ Holly suggested, and he quickly released the chain on his chunky BMX.

‘Come along, you two, there’s a lot of tables in the hall we can use to shelter under,’ Fiona called. ‘Everything locked up alright?’ she added, when they got closer.

‘Yes, thanks,’ Holly said, ‘I’ve got the place as secure as I can. I’ve done my best.’

‘All anyone can ask for,’ Liam put in.

They walked on in silence for a few paces, and Holly took a proper look around. Some of the front doors in the terrace were wide open, and Holly wondered aloud whether they should shut them.

‘People have probably left their keys inside,’ Fiona replied calmly. ‘Shouldn’t risk it, or we’ll be battering down doors and paying for it once this is all over.’

The policeman and the villagers were filling into the church hall at the far end of the high street. She could see the tower of the church looming to one it. It was one of the oldest churches in the country, she knew; word of the construction was mentioned in the Domesday Book. The Eastley family had donated to its maintenance for many centuries, so it was in good condition. They turned into the old graveyard, and followed the path; the hall was beyond the wall. A cloud of birds flew overhead, screeching and cawing.

The three halted and stared up at the swarm. They were just next to the base of the tower. ‘I saw them do that about half an hour ago,’ Holly remarked, point up. ‘Just before the first quake…’

She broke off. The ground was shaking again, but not in the way it had before. It was like the trembling in the earth when a PA was turned up to eleven, and it was getting stronger. Clearer.

‘Sounds like something’s… coming?’ Fiona suggested uncertainly. ‘It’s like… hooves.’

Liam looked from the cloud of birds then back to the street. ‘A stampede? There’s no cattle around here.’

‘It’s not hooves,’ Holy breathed, her eyes fixed on the street from which they had just come. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth fell open. ‘It’s the sea!’

The other two turned and stared. For a moment, nobody moved, though the roaring, rumbling sound was getting louder as the wave got closer, tumbling over itself as it galloped up the high street. It was at the museum already, and Holly seemed transfixed.

Fiona was yelling to her colleague, but they were still fifty yards from the hall!

Liam didn’t hesitate. Lifting the bike, he turned and put his shoulder against the door in the tower, but it would not give. Fiona quickly realised what he was doing and turned to help, but she had to take hold of Holly’s arm to drag her. Liam was having no luck with the door; it was locked tight.

He left Fiona to, turning back to the main church building, raising the bike into the air, he spun like a discus thrower and hurled the bike through the nearest stained-glass window – an old one, celebrating the work of Cromwell’s wrecking crews – and the sound of breaking glass made Fiona look around, and shook Holly from her daze. Liam was already hauling himself up, and turned on the sill. ‘Come on! Quick!’

They complied, Fiona still yelling. They could see people peering curiously from the church hall’s windows. ‘Fi?’ the policeman had appeared in the doorway.

‘Upstairs!’ she yelled back, already halfway through the broken stained-glass window. ‘Get everyone upstairs!’ She leapt down into the cold knave of the church and staggered, falling over a pew. Liam braced himself against the lead frame, tensed and crouching low to reach Holly. She came up in fits and starts, still looking over her shoulder. The wave topped the graveyard wall, spray splashing up at least ten metres high.

‘Holly, give me your other hand!’ Liam called. ‘Come on!’

She finally did so, and they both jumped down from the ledge. Scooping Fiona up on the run, they hurtled for the open door to the tower. Water was already pouring through the window and below the door. Another pane of stained-glass gave out and succumbed, letting another torrent through.

‘Keep going!’ Fiona called from the back, as they pounded up the tiny spiral staircase. From below, they heard pews being smashed against the walls and more breaking glass, lifted on the rising tide.

Luckily, the door at the top did not require a key; Holly slammed the bolt back, shoved the door back, and dashed the last few steps onto the tower top. What she saw almost made her fall off the roof.

As far to the east as she could see, water swept across the countryside. It covered farms and roads, houses and gardens. It had made the rivers vanish. Taller buildings, other churches particularly, poked through the tumult, and she thought she could just make out other people standing on roofs. Cars bobbed about like ducks on a pond.

‘No…’ Fiona gasped, staring at the devastation. ‘No!’ and Liam had to hold her back, as she looked like she was ready to dive off. Her eyes were fixed on the little church hall, and both Holly and Liam understood. Only the roof was visible above the flowing water. There was no upstairs that they could have run to.

Fiona sank to her knees, gripping the parapet with both hands, her knuckled white against the old grey stone.

‘Ben!’ she yelled again. ‘Ben!’ But nobody replied. No sound came from the little hall and Fiona stopped calling.

Liam simply gaped, turned all around to take in the scale. The sea was still flowing south-west, but it seemed to be slowing. He tried to pick out his house, but it was in the next village. He groped for his phone and called up his mum’s number before he realised he had no network signal.

‘I’ve got no signal,’ he said, though neither Holly nor Fiona seemed to hear him. He tried again, turning the phone off, then on, to see if that restored it, but the space for the network label remained resolutely blank. Fiona was still staring transfixed at the submerged church hall.

Holly sat beside her, and pulled the policewoman into a hug, but Fiona barely noticed. ‘There is a raised stage at the end of the hall,’ she said quietly. ‘They’ll have got onto that, I’m sure. And there’s no false roof, you can see the beams.’ Fiona inclined her head slightly, but still said nothing.

‘I’m sure they’ll be okay,’ Liam agreed, ‘we just need to wait for this to drain away.’

Fiona spoke at last, her voice hoarse from the shouting. ‘You think waiting will make this better?’

‘Hey, that’s not what he said,’ Holly chided her gently. ‘Just… just don’t give up hope, okay?’ She glanced up at Liam. ‘Did you say you’ve got no signal, Liam?’

‘Yeah, nothing,’ he agreed, showing his phone screen. Holly felt a mild stab of amusement at the Japanese cartoon character wallpaper. Anime, that was the right word, she remembered, the memory of Liam’s explanation rearing in her head.

‘Fiona, can you radio in?’ Fiona sniffed back her feeling and sat a little straighter. She reached for the radio on her webbing straps, but it was not there.

She looked up aghast. ‘It must’ve come off when fell,’ she said in a soft voice, then she stared around at the expanse of water. ‘The cell towers must be down… Must be flooded…’

‘Then we’re waiting,’ Holly said, leaning back against the parapet, fishing the Jags scarf from her coat pocket and wrapping it around her neck.