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Downtown Manhattan, New York City
May 18th, 2035
12:56PM, Eastern Standard Time
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Nicholas Darby was a simple man with a simple mind, not that he could afford to be much else. A 21-year old with 200 dollars to his name, a dead-end job, and pizzas to deliver. This was as good as the foreseeable future was for a late high-school dropout like him, he thought regrettably.
Nicholas cautiously carried the loaded boxes one-handed out of the pizzeria he worked at and proceeded onto the sidewalk and towards his delivery car. With one hand occupied by a stack of pizza boxes, he used his other free hand to sift his pocket for the car keys. Opening the passenger's side door with his free hand, he slowly shuffles down a stack of steaming hot pizza boxes onto the passenger seat. Whoever thought to order this many large pizzas during the mid-day rush hour should've been beaten with a wooden stick, he thought to himself.
There was however no time to waste. An order this large surely had to come with an equally sizable tip, and he would have to try his best if he wished not to spend the following week eating instant ramen with just eggs before paycheque day. One quick twist of the ignition fired up the car just as it always has in its five years of service under the pizzeria.
"'kay... need to get these over to one Mrs. Baker in... Queens."
"Fucking hell, I gotta drive to Long Island for this? They better tip me well..."
Nicholas pulled out of the parking spot and made a beeline for his delivery destination, hoping to score a good tip by making it there fast. About a minute into the drive, he turns on the radio to cut out the background noise of traffic.
Tensions had been rising across the world for more than the last decade, or so the news announcer said. In the aftermath of the disastrous Invasion of Ukraine in 2022, the Russian Federation had been pushed out of Crimea by a combination of multiple factors. The untenable supply and manpower shortage in maintaining their holdings on the peninsula was one of these factors, another being the logistical nightmares which followed the swift Ukrainian counteroffensive of late 2023 that retook the southern axis of the occupation troops, removing the land bridge connection which soldiers stationed in Crimea relied on in the absence of a constantly-functioning bridge across the Kerch Strait. The final nail in the coffin however was the 2025 Ukrainian counteroffensive into Crimea. The Ukrainian Army, now equipped with NATO heavy equipment and NATO-trained troops, blitzed through the weakened defences of the peninsula. Eventually, the Russians stationed in Crimea had no choice but to rout across the still-minimally functioning Kerch Bridge with morale completely shattered. Those who remained fought until the last rounds in their magazines, the last shells for the artillery guns, and the last infantry-carried missiles they had.
A decade after the end of the war, though the Russian Federation remains in name, civil unrest across its many republics has exploded beyond control of the central government. These republics, whose men were sent to the bitter front to become cannon fodder and dog food, had risen in defiance. China, who had supposedly and allegedly begun smuggling weapons into the loose republics, were positioning themselves to subjugate the remnants of the Russian central economy after the ruinous spending of the central government for a war already lost. For the last decade, it was becoming clear that China was NATO's next threat to be wary of and this time, it was poised to be complete chaos should war break out.
Most of this was of no interest to Nicholas however, for his generation grew up in a politically turbulent period of 21st century history. All he needed to do now was make pizza deliveries, collect tips, and try to live life amidst the incomprehensible chaos around him. He was soon to get out of Manhattan anyways.
The gods however, if they do indeed exist, had other plans. The news announcements were interrupted by a sudden emergency weather alert.
"Breaking news, breaking news! Strong winds brewing over New York City, I repeat, strong winds brewing over New York City! It is advised that all citizens seek shelter indoors immediately! This is not a drill! This is not a drill!"
Within seconds, the sky shifted from a clear blue to a dark and hazy grey. Life on the ground stopped dead in its tracks, every pedestrian's face now glued to the terrifying phenomenon unfolding high above them. A thunderous crack of previously unfathomable amplitude followed an insanely long lightning bolt as it shot across the sky. Soon, another lightning bolt struck the attention of the citizens of New York City followed by another ear-splitting crack. And another, and another...
The winds began to pick up, throwing loose paper and plastic on the streets around. The winds continued to increase in intensity, in noticeable increments every few seconds, until soon it had become hurricane-like rain-filled winds. Visibility was now barely 30 feet ahead, but debris continued to fly dangerously at those trying to run for cover. From the driver's seat of the halted car, Nicholas watched in horror as a toppled trash can is blown by the winds into an unsuspecting girl trying to seek cover, tackling her down by the legs and sending her crashing onto the soaked pavement.
Completely scared out of his wits, Nicholas stared silently and fearfully at the winds and his surroundings being ruined. The constant howl of the high-speed winds struck deep into his heart. A metal object of some sort tossed by the wind smashed into his windshield and bounced off, leaving a huge crack in front of his very eyes. This snapped him out of a trance, and he looked around again for the girl he had seen earlier.
The girl was spotted not very far from where she had been taken out, now an unmoving body on the cold sidewalk. Nicholas was to make a fateful choice, to help or to leave her.
The driver's side door was forced open against the direction of the wind, albeit slowly. Nicholas squeezed his body out of the car as it shook and bounced about. He falls to the ground right after, resorting to crawling his way towards the girl. As he crawls, he is battered by the wind and debris of Manhattan's less than pristine streets. A sharp, crumpled soda can smashes into the side of his face as he crawls, knocking him sideways and leaving a significant cut on his left cheek. Reorienting himself, Nicholas continued crawling towards the girl and eventually reached her.
The girl had been injured badly, from what Nicholas could make out through the rain and wind, and was most definitely unconscious. Nicholas grabbed the girl's bright red sweater and began to drag her body, still crawling, off to an alleyway perpendicular to the direction of the winds. The alleyway proved to be a relative safe haven for the two, with wind speeds being somewhat lower than outside on the street.
After successfully dragging the girl to safety in the alleyway, he leaned on the brick wall of a building. Nicholas grabbed tightly on the girl, both as a reaction of fear towards the unknown disaster unfolding in front of him and as an effort to keep her from being pulled away by the roaring winds.
Seconds felt like minutes. Minutes felt like hours. The winds were still howling and strong. Nicholas was now alone in an alleyway with an injured girl in his arms, completely unprepared to make any more moves. He could not see nor hear anybody by this point, for the winds were too loud and the rainfall too dense to see through.
How long would he have to hold on for?
How did he get here?
How is he supposed to make it out in one piece?
Questions raced through his mind the same way thunder and lightning continued to terrorise the population of Manhattan and New York City, unfortunate enough to fall within the approximately 30km radius of the centre point of the freak storm. The end was not in sight, and he would have to hold on for longer.
"SOMEBODY!"
"HELP!!!"
There was simply no other choice.
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YOU ARE READING
White Star of Aturan
Science Fiction[Story under heavy WIP, feedback very greatly appreciated. Title and description subject to constant changes.] "You never know what you truly have until it is gone." It is the year 2035. Something in the world of known science has gone seriously wro...
