Death Rattles

Supply vehicles lined the designated parking area where the van was sent to stop. Crowds of workers and volunteers shuffled by the friends as they unloaded. Being among the faithful guests who had made Shika-no-Shiwa their home made the friends feel like they had arrived at a religious festival for the end of the world. Operation outposts lined the perimeter, where people with glowing lanyards around their necks shuffled along calling orders to one another. One such person saw the friends unpacking their van and approached.

“Are you planning to stay here or just visiting?” she asked.

The group paused. It was decision time. Everyone looked to Kureha.

“...Staying here?…” she stated in a semi-question.

The friends nodded in acceptance as a thunderous crackle of energy rolled through the air. Shiona and Kai flinched ever so slightly.

“Anomaly. They’ve been building. Sounds like thunder, no idea where it comes from. Nothing happens after though. It’s strange. We call them the death rattles of the world,” the woman said in a straightforward tone.

None of the friends liked her statement or her directness, and none of them could respond.

“Well, the first residential district is about a half-kilometer to the west along the beachfront. Old hotels and ryokan. They’ll find a space for you there or send you to the second district,” said the lady as she pointed them toward their destination before leaving.

With that, the friends grabbed their luggage and set off. All of them, without acknowledging it or planning it, looked back at the van. That white and beige combination of metal and cloth had been their sanctuary and escort throughout this journey. In a collapsing world, it had been one of their few constants. Now, leaving it behind in a logistics staging area felt like a cruel, undeserving end for all of its effort and support. Still, it was soon gone behind the closing metal gate of the work area, and the six of them were walking slowly along the roadway toward the former tourism district. One final hotel awaited them, and Kureha couldn’t help but be curious as to what their last iteration of shelter would be like as they bunkered down and waited for The End.

“This is quite the operation,” said Riku as he looked out at the sea of people and machines that were moving along amidst the stagnant, non-flickering light of the lantern candles.

“I do NOT like the name they gave that thunder sound,” said Kai as he looked up to the void.

“Agreed!” said everyone else.

“Why can’t they call it something lighthearted for once? Like, maybe that’s not the world’s death rattle, maybe it just has gas…” said Rin, causing everyone to chuckle.

“Right? That sounded like a stomach gurgle or a burp more than a death rattle,” agreed Shiona.

“Alright, well I say we call it an ‘Earth Burp’ instead of a death rattle. All in favor?” asked Kureha.

“Aye!” they all said as they raised their hands in unison.

Shortly afterward, the six of them were dragging their suitcases up a stone roadway that led to a row of hotels and ryokans that faced out to the bay with the mainland a few thousand meters away. To the group’s great relief, the third building they approached had space for them. After some pleading, the group was able to get two connecting rooms. It wasn’t a suite, but at least there was a door between them that could remain open. The hotel was unassuming and simple. White walls showed stains of weathering. Early 2000s-era windows and decor lined the walls, showing a lack of updates that had existed long before The Calamity. The rooms themselves were moderately well maintained, with bathrooms that seemed as though they had been renovated several years ago. Still, it was better than sleeping in a tent.

Sheets were damp and stale. Shiona immediately began to remove them from the beds.

“We’ll go find some fresh ones,” said Arata as he and Riku left the doorway.

Kai opened the doorway between the rooms and analyzed the space. Two smaller beds were in each room, with a simple nightstand and an old television that didn’t work on each inner wall. After a moment of thinking, Kai approached the television in one room and unplugged it before carrying it into the other room and setting it on the floor. The girls watched him in curiosity. He didn’t ask for help, and Kureha couldn’t tell if he even wanted any. After setting the television down, he returned to the room they were all congregated in and began to drag the nightstand into the other room. The girls went to help him and he stopped them.

“I’ve got it. Kureha, your throat. You shouldn’t strain. Shiona, you’re on the verge of snapping. And Rin, I know you didn’t sleep. All of you need to rest. I’ve got this,” he said calmly but sternly.

Kureha didn’t challenge him. His eyes were surrounded by black and purple bruises now and his left cheekbone was swollen from the gash where one of the men had stomped on his face. Still, he was Kai, and his happy demeanor, forced or true, was there beneath the damage as he smiled a crooked smile and continued pulling the furniture into the other room.

“Oh, our tattoos! Aftercare!” said Rin in sudden realization as Kai worked.

She unzipped her backpack and removed the ointments they had been given.

“Crap, you’re right. Don’t want them to peel or anything,” Kureha said in complete seriousness without realizing the irony of their concern.

The girls cleaned and treated their tattoos and decided not to reapply the saran coverings anymore. Kai was asked to pause his labor to get his arms treated, to which the three girls swiftly dealt with, before allowing him to return to the furniture.

Soon, only the beds were in the main room, which Kai then pushed together before relocating the other rooms’ beds in to join. Once he was finished, all of the luggage and excess furniture was in one room, and the other room was snugly filled with four beds that were pressed together into one single unit.

“We’re not sleeping in separate rooms,” Kai stated as he observed his work.

Shiona hugged his waist in appreciation.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Yes, thank you,” Rin and Kureha reiterated.

Arata and Riku returned with fresh sheets and a small provisions bag that contained a few packaged snacks and some water canisters.

“This setup is intense,” said Rin as he held up the goods.

“What did they call it? Mutual Aid?” asked Arata.

“Yes,” said Riku.

“Oh, the beds! Nice!” said Arata as he looked around the room.

They all received the beds with fresh linens before sitting down to rest for a moment. Arata’s thoughts seemed occupied with the bag of items they had been given. After several minutes of staring at it in thought, he spoke.

“Would y’all want to volunteer? While we’re here?” he asked as he pointed at the bag.

The group looked to him.

“If we’re going to stay here, maybe we should serve where we can? All these people are making sure everyone is taken care of, and I find that very kind. Even at the end, right here at the end, directly in the epicenter, people are making sure no one goes hungry. I think I’d like to do that. Let my last days have some sort of positive impact instead of just lying around waiting for my last breath,” he said pensively.

Everyone thought it over.

“That would be nice,” Rin responded first.

“And, no pressure, if y’all only want to do it a day or two, or only a few times a week, whatever y’all want. But I think I’d like to get involved and help,” he said.

Shiona ran her fingers through his hair.

“Rin, your husband is an incredibly kind, caring soul. You’re a lucky woman,” she said.

“I am!” Rin agreed.

“I’ll join you. However I can,” said Riku.

“Agreed,” said Kureha.

“Hell yeah,” said Kai.

For the time being, they decided to eat their rice at the nearest food depot, where lines of people were waiting. Volunteering would begin the next night. As they ate their simple meal, they made their way to an observation point and looked out at Fukuoka. Enormous Shards of faintly glowing energy rose from the ground and up to the void like eternal, black lightning. Nothing came from them. No visions of the past. Just darkness. Kureha found them terrifying and wanted to avoid them, but could not help but watch them from afar as the lantern candles beside her beamed out a small, radiant yellow light. Streetlights and building lights began to click off, and a strange chime echoed in the night.

“Nothing’s wrong, just nighttime power savings,” said a worker as they walked by.

Kureha and the group sighed in relief as the artificial lights of the cityscape vanished into darkness until only the residual Shimmers shone and then faded. After that, only the light of the tens of thousands of candles remained.