Dark buildings rose upwards, silhouetted against an equally dark sky, looking down like great black demons.  The odour of evil and sin lurked all around, disease and pestilence breeding everywhere, contaminating the once clean surroundings.
    People lay dying, some buried beneath the rubble of ruined tower blocks.  A great crevasse sprawled across the street, stretching down deep into the bowels of the earth, shadows reaching up like giant black claws, heaving their way out from the dark depths of hell.  There were moans of sorrow and pain all around, cries for help echoing through broken windows and doorways, but no-one could help, there was no-one, no-one in any fit state anyway.
    A bright red flash crackled high up in the sky amongst the moist black clouds that now cloaked the earth, this was accompanied by a deafening roar of thunder which shook the very ground upon which they stood.  Suddenly a bolt of red lightning burnt it's way through the clouds and struck one of the huge tower blocks - a ruin, but it was still standing tall like a symbol of power. Instantly it erupted into a ball of flame, igniting the others that surrounded it as it did so.
    A thousand tortured voices screamed out in terror as an army of hideous devils surged forward from the smoke-clad ruins.
    "No".  Lori jolted upright in a cold sweat, trembling with fear.
    Gasping for breath she threw back the covers and leapt toward the window, her heart pounding, trying to rip it's way out of her chest.  On seeing the pale moon gleaming in the dark blue sky she began to calm, heart rate slowing, allowing her to breath more easily, when suddenly a knock at her door caused it to increase again, she spun round.....
    "You alright, Lori?" came the shrill voice from the other side of the door.
    It was Nathan, her cousin, he was staying the night so that they could get an early start in the fields next morning.
    "Yes, I'm fine," she replied, "just a nightmare, I'm okay now."
    "I'm just next door if you need me."
    "Yes, thankyou," she said, calmly turning back toward the window.
    Lori walked back over to her bed, her slender figure and long dark hair barely visible in the shadows of her bedroom.  She was glad Nathan was staying, 'Nathaniel' as her father insisted.  Okay, so he wasn't handsome - he was tall and skinny with wiry red hair and a high pitched creaky voice, but he was nice, gentle and considerate, after all looks aren't everything.
She slid back into her bed, still slightly trembling, she wouldn't get back to sleep, not now, not after the nightmare, she would just lay there until sunrise, until it was time to get up and start work, going over every detail in her mind, again and again, as she had for the past five nights. Something was going to happen, something terrible, something evil, very soon.
    Samuel awoke to the singing of birds, his head throbbing and the feeling of nausea that he had come to know so well, "This is my punishment," he told himself, "for failing to rid mankind of the evil that possesses it, and forsaking my lord."
    The grey-haired old man slowly pushed back the covers and hauled himself up, perching on the edge of his bed, the sun's rays shining through the window, cutting into his eyes and mind like daggers. In the distance could be heared the quiet chugging of a tractor.
    "Damn those unholy machines," he cursed, "cause nothing but laziness, they are Satan's toys, making their users more susceptible to his will."
    Once Samuel was a highly respected preacher in his community and then twenty-four years ago, shortly after his daughter, Lori, was born his wife died.  Instead of turning to God for strength and support he turned to another, Satan's creation - alcohol, and now God was punishing him for his momentary lapse in judgement.
    Reaching out he clasped his fingers around the bottle sitting upon his bedside table, "Just one to start the day."
    A cool breeze blew gently in the warm air,  Lori rested against a wooden fence in the shade amongst the trees, she was looking out onto a large field.  In the middle a tractor stood motionless, a figure clambering about it, like an insect crawling on a plant.
    Nathan was a good farmer but, unfortunately not much of a mechanic.
    "Darn stupid machine," he screeched, with a hint of frustration in his voice.
    "Calm down Nathan," she shouted, "you're trying too hard."
    "Darn, Darn, Darn," he shouted again, this time kicking the huge rear wheels, "I hate this tractor, should've got it seen to long ago."
    Lori frowned as she looked out into the distance, the monstrous skyscrapers of Los Angeles looming like shadows against the pale blue sky.  She felt a sudden chill, and then the temperature dropped as if winter had suddenly leapt upon them, the breeze became a turbulent gale which almost blew her off her feet, and then a thunderous roar as the ground beneath her feet began to shake.
    She watched as Nathan clung to the tractor for support as the gale became a hurricane, crushing the trees in it's fury.  Suddenly, as if an icy claw had grabbed her, she was thrown to the ground, then there was blackness.

Light started to invade the darkness and a chill passed over her pale skin.  Lori opened her eyes to see the world spinning around her, a searing pain stabbed at her as she tried to raise her head, instinctively she clutched her throbbing skull with her hands, her hair was damp, as she sat up she glanced down at her palm, it was covered in blood, her blood.  Looking down at the ground as she rose to her feet she saw a blood-stained rock, she must have hit her head when she fell.
    The air around her seemed calm enough now, in the distance she saw the broken remains of the skyscrapers.  Glancing around her at the dishevelled landscape she saw uprooted and broken trees, and there, in the field lay the tractor... turned on it's side.
    Suddenly a horrifying thought entered her mind.  She ran frantically toward the overturned tractor, and on her arrival her fears were confirmed.  On the ground before her lay Nathan's broken body, crushed beneath the weight of the tractor.  Shock siezed her and tears filled her eyes, then another terrible thought hit her.  She leapt up and started running as fast as she could back toward the house, one thought embedded in her mind, "Father!"

With one gigantic effort the girder came loose, and the two men pulled it aside to reveal the crumpled remains of an old man, ripped to pieces by falling glass and stone.
    "Damn it!  It's been nearly an hour since we've found any survivors," said one of the men angrily.
    "Okay Jim, we'll call off the search," said the tall powerfully built man beside him, "we can't do anything else without proper equipment."
    "Hey, Frank," shouted a younger man several meters away, "I think there's someone alive down here."
    It was Terry, the youngest member of their team.  Luckily they had been patrolling the outside of the building when it caved in.
    Between them, the earthquake and the hurricane destroyed most of the city, transforming it into a pile of rubble and ruins, like the aftermath of a blitz.  Dead bodies littered the sidewalk, injured people - some dying, rested against broken walls.
    The two men rushed over to where Terry was standing.  Broken concrete and twisted metal formed a narrow tunnel through the mountain of rubble before them.
    "What is it?" asked Frank, in his deep, authoritive voice.
    "I'm not sure... I think it's a little girl," replied Terry, his voice displaying a hint of panic.
    Frank knelt down and peered into the hole, he could barely make out the small trembling shape, curled into a ball about twenty feet into the tunnel.
    "Has anybody got a flashlight?" he asked, urgently.
    "Harvey's got one in the jeep, but he isn't back yet," came the response.
    Harvey was the fourth member of their team, he'd left over half an hour ago to get help, but there was still no sign of his return.
    "Damn! Where the hell has he got to?" shouted Frank furiously.  "The fire station's only three blocks from here."
    Moments later a jeep came screeching around the corner, it was dark blue in colour, with a yellow stripe running along the side, matching the security teams uniform.
    The jeep jerked to a halt, the driver leapt out - a young man with dark spikey hair - this was Harvey.
    "I couldn't get through by road," he shouted, slightly out of breath.  "I had to go most of the way on foot..."
    "But did you reach the fire station?" interrupted Jim.
    "Yeah, what's left of it."
    "What about the police, or a hospital?" asked Frank, rising to his feet.
    "I saw a couple of cops, but they had their hands full as well, and from what they told me it seems that the hospital's been hit pretty badly too."
    "I'm gonna have to go in there myself," said Frank.  "Harvey, hand me the flashlight."
    Harvey reached into the jeep and pulled out a small black torch from beside the drivers seat and handed it to the big man.
    "Wait a minute, Frank, you can't go in there," said Jim quickly.  "You're the strongest, toughest guy I know, but there are some things you just aren't built for, and getting through that tunnel's one of them.  The slightest knock against the side could cause the whole lot to collapse."
    "Have you got any better suggestions?"
    "Yeah, I'll go," replied Jim. "I may not have your expertise, but I'm a damn sight smaller, and stand a better chance of getting in and out of there without it caving in on me."
    He was right, although Jim wasn't exactly small, he was smaller than Frank.
    "Okay, but be careful, I don't want your death on my conscience," replied Frank with concern.
    As Jim knelt down he reached out a hand, "Can you pass me the light?"
    Frank handed the torch down to Jim.  "Be careful, I'd hate to lose a good friend."
    "Don't worry," came the reply as the other man disappeared into the tunnel.
    The tunnel was dark and dust hung in the air.  Jagged rubble, twisted wire rods, and the unnerving creak of loose concrete from above, made crawling through the tunnel a slow and harrowing task.
    It took Jim about ten minutes to crawl the twenty feet to the other end of the tunnel, where it opened out into a small mis-shapen room.  There he found a small child, sitting huddled into a corner.  "She couldn't be any more than five years old," he thought.  He reached out to pull her toward him, she was paralysed with fear, getting her back through the tunnel was definitely not going to be easy.
    A low rumbling sound caused everyone to pause temporarily, the ground began to tremble beneath their feet.
    Frank keyed his hand-set.  "Hurry up Jim, there's gonna be another quake any minute."
    "Moving as quick as I can," came a somewhat garbled reply.
    They were taking no chances.  Using walkie-talkies to communicate, the volume on Jim's hand-set turned down low, his replies coming in quiet whispers.  They dare not risk any loud noises to disrupt the already unstable foundations of the tunnel.
    Dust filled his lungs and stung his eyes as the rubble began to move.
    "This is no job for a security guard," thought Jim, as he slowly crawled through the tunnel, holding the little girl beneath him.  This way his body would shield her from any falling rock, although the weight of the concrete would probably crush them both.
    He seemed to have been crawling for an eternity in the darkness, coughing and choking on the ever falling dust.
    Suddenly he was seized by a powerful hand, and dragged out into the light, the little girl still clinging to him.
    "We didn't think you were gonna make it for a moment there, when that tremor started.  How's the girl?" asked Frank, in his most concerned voice.
    "She's petrified," Jim replied with a cough.
    His dark blue uniform, now grey with dust, showed patches of blood where he'd caught against twisted spikes of steel and jagged rock.
    Terry rushed over with a first-aid kit.
    "Let me take a look at those wounds," he said, in a warm, but official tone.  First he examined the girl, who appeared to be okay physically, and then he moved on to Jim.
    Jim looked up at Frank, a distant expression cloaked his face, he looked worried - not an expression he displayed very often.
    "Why don't you go, Frank?"
    "What?" the big man looked at Jim, somewhat startled.
    "You're worried about Kerry and Peter... it's written all over your face."
    "But what about you guys?  I'm needed here."
    "Don't worry!  I can take care of things here," said Jim, reassuringly.
    Harvey peered over.  He was sat in the jeep, trying to get some news on the radio without success, the static in the air caused a lot of interference.
    "You'll have to go on foot," he said, sympathetically.  "The roads are either full of craters or blocked with concrete."
    "Okay, I'll try and get back as soon as I can," said Frank, as he set off on foot down the street.
    It would take a normal man maybe two hours to reach his house on foot, but Frank was no normal man.  His tough military special forces training, and the thought of his wife and baby son gave him the extra endurance needed to keep up a constant running speed - that, and the fact that he was seven feet of pure muscle.
    It was times like this that he envied the rest of his team for being single.  As he passed through street after street he saw the same scenes repeated everywhere, bodies lying in the road, some dying, some dead, and others that would be better off dead.  People managing the best they could under the circumstances.  Then he witnessed other scenes, scenes that almost turned his stomach, it was starting already, people taking possessions from the dead and the dying... looters.
 

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