aftermath
This was not a bus. Nor was it the Times office. From what William could recall in the dimly accessible vestiges of memory, these were the most likely places to have woken up, and it was mildly confusing when his surrounds proved to be neither.
He cast his mind back, but it wasn't till he started to sit up and felt the twinge in his stomach that everything fell back into place. Halloween. The visions being a rather nasty trick, acclimating people to the idea that what they were seeing wasn't real, and then springing the reality on them.
He needed to find out what had happened. Who it had happened to, where it had happened. The how and why probably wasn't going to be forthcoming, but he should at least try. What were people doing, in the aftermath? How was the community coping? More importantly, where was his pen and notebook?
He tried to sit up further and groaned.
He cast his mind back, but it wasn't till he started to sit up and felt the twinge in his stomach that everything fell back into place. Halloween. The visions being a rather nasty trick, acclimating people to the idea that what they were seeing wasn't real, and then springing the reality on them.
He needed to find out what had happened. Who it had happened to, where it had happened. The how and why probably wasn't going to be forthcoming, but he should at least try. What were people doing, in the aftermath? How was the community coping? More importantly, where was his pen and notebook?
He tried to sit up further and groaned.