Flare by Paul Grzegorzek Read Free Book Online Page A

and cutting my losses instead of leaving you at my back, eh?”
    I couldn’t think of anything to say.  There were a million things that might have made a difference, but all I could do was stare at the shotgun, waiting for the blast that would end my life.
    “Come on Ralph, you’ve had your fun.  You can see he’s injured, the poor boy, so stop playing the fool and give them a hand, why don’t you?”
    The voice came from behind the old man, and he turned his head while keeping the shotgun pointed at me.
    “I told you to stay in the house, woman!” He roared angrily, “this is no place for you, not on a night like this, what if they’d been criminals, eh?  They would have had their way with you after they’d finished with me!”
    A woman easily as old as Ralph moved into the lamplight, her white hair up in curlers but the rest of her covered in practical clothes almost identical to the man’s.  She seemed completely unfazed by his anger, instead moving closer to get a better view through the glasses that she raised from the chain around her neck.
    “I should be so lucky”, she said with a smile in our direction, “the last time anyone wanted to have their way with me was, well, when was it Ralph?”
    Even in the dim light I saw him go red from collar to cap as she continued to move closer.
    “You’ll have to forgive my husband”, she said, “he’s a little overprotective at times.  And he’s been looking for someone else to shoot since that poacher back in 1967, not that he’d hurt a fly, normally, despite his manners”.
    She shot him a look which he ignored, stepping closer to us and keeping the shotgun trained on me.
    “Careful Harriet”, he said with a frown, “that one on the hay looks shifty, don’t get too close”.
    “I can assure you I’m anything but shifty”, I said, my voice several octaves higher than usual, “my name’s Malcolm King, and I’m a journalist.  I live in Brighton and I’m trying to get to Manchester to get my daughter.  I was on the phone to her when the flare hit and Jerry promised to drive me.  He’s an astrophysicist and his car works…”  I realised I was babbling and clamped my mouth shut.  The woman still had a smile on her face but I couldn’t take my eyes off the shotgun and the frown just behind it, wondering if these would be my last few seconds on earth.
    Ralph spat on the floor again.
    “Journalist, eh?  Said you looked shifty.  So what was that you were saying about a flare?  I thought this was just a power cut.  We get enough of ‘em around here”.
    “That’s what happened”, I said, looking to Jerry for some support but seeing that he was rooted to the spot, unable to move, “a solar flare.  The sun let off a burst of energy and it fried everything electronic.  You must have noticed?”
    The old man shrugged.  “Like I said, we get four, maybe five power cuts a year, don’t affect us much living out here so didn’t pay it much thought.  How bad is it?”
    “Bad”, I said, my biceps beginning to shake as if I was palsied, “from what we can tell everything has stopped working, even the cars”.
    “Yours works ok, saw it driving up”.  The accusation in his tone was enough to set my heart racing again.  All it would take was a twitch of his finger and I’d be nothing but a dim memory and a red smear on the wall.
    “It’s Jerry’s”, I said frantically, “mine stopped working the same as all the other newer ones, but his is old and it doesn’t rely on computers like mine does”.
    His eyes narrowed, and then widened as Harriet walked calmly between me and the shotgun, blocking his view.  He immediately raised the weapon, pointing it safely at the ceiling.
    “God damn it woman!”  He yelled, loud enough to wake the dead.  “Don’t you know anything?  Get out of my way!”
    The smile finally dropped from her face and she turned towards him, raising an eyebrow.  She said nothing, just looked at him for