Area 101 (On Hold)

The world burned.

From the safety of his office, The President watched, flickering screens illuminating his sharp features. Every man or woman of power held their breath, watching and waiting on his decision.

He leaned forward in his chair, tasting the blood on his lips. He could feel the eyes of the world on him, yet he still paused, leaning back in his chair and wondering the fate of earth.

Steeling his gaze, the man nodded curtly and rose from his seat. The room hushed, anticipation hanging thickly in the air.

Far away, another man, The Prime Minister, paced his office. His eyes darted rapidly around the room, yet he did not take in the sight of the dim, grey walls, nor did he care for the advisors and politicians that huddled in every corner.

Wringing his hands and quickening his step, The Prime Minister took a deep, shaky breath. He was ready. Clearing his throat, the man stepped forward.

‘My people,’ he began, stopping as the receiver crackled for a second. ‘I am sorry. I have let you down. You are on your own now. We hold no power. Run. Run while you can.’

Across his country, people were glued to their seats, unable to believe what they had just heard. Their leader, firm and unshakable, was giving up all hope.

The people waited for comfort, for reassurance, for some sort of reversal of his words.

It did not come.

‘Please,’ came his voice, graver and more afraid than ever. ‘Nowhere is safe-‘ with one last crackle, the radios across the country turned to static. Silence fell.

In America, The President smiled. He would win the war, he was sure of it.

The red button loomed ahead of him, and without another thought he briskly marched across the room and pressed both of his heavy hands to the cool metal.

Pressing down, the blaring sound of sirens filled his office.

‘Evacuate!’ came a cry from somewhere behind him, but The President was not listening. He was grinning, eyes transfixed on a map that was pinned to the wall. A shadowy darkness crossed the country.

The portable radio he wore on his hip blared to life. The voice of a girl, soft and sweet, could be heard, faded and weak from somewhere far away.

‘Mr. President? Area 101 is secure. I repeat, Area 101 is secure.’

Suddenly, The President’s smile dropped from his long, thin face.

‘Thank you, child.’

A note from Lilly -

Just to clear up some questions: the capitalization of 'the' before 'president' and 'prime minister' is correct, due to events referred to later in the story. The speech marks are also correct, as I am from England. I will be continuing this - I am currently in the planning stages to develop Area 101 into a full length novel.