Flux

arrive, which is soon, you want to be on the right side.”
    “And which side is that?”
    “The winning one!”
    “How do you know that?”
    “Trust me”
    Iain laughed out loud at the thought of trusting a despicable wretch such as Bert. “I’ll think about it.” Then, as an afterthought, “what’s the baby got to do with it all?”
    Bert glared, shook his head and vanished.

    That night, Iain’s dream started with the normal and the mundane as these things often do. A shopping trip into town of all things, catching the bus into Birmingham, weaving his way through the crowds of people, not really knowing what he was looking for. Above, the sun shone in a sky of clear blue, broken only by vapour trails of jets passing high overhead.
    He stood watching the people going about their business, men, women and children locked into their own worlds and thoughts. As he did, Iain became aware of a steady, continuous thrum from beneath his feet, a vibration from down below the pavement. No one else seemed to notice, that was until the vibration steadily increased to a subtle shake, gaining strength with each and every second until baskets of flowers hanging on lamp posts and shop signs began swinging. Still the trembling strengthened. An earthquake! In Britain such things are virtually unknown. Was it really an earthquake? Iain seemed to think that those tremors are sudden and violent affairs, not a steady, slow building to a climax. But he was no expert.
    Sudden? Maybe not, but the quake certainly became violent as it gained momentum; glass started to fall from shop fronts and high rises, sending people on the ground scattering in all directions while Iain stood, transfixed, watching the panic unfold while lethal shards fell all around. A crack appeared in the pavement and Iain looked on as it began to widen and lengthen to swallow the pedestrianised street. Shoppers teetered and tumbled over the edge into the unknown, scrabbling to find purchase where none was to be had. Acrid fumes rose from the crack, bringing back dark memories for Iain. The Rotunda cracked from bottom to top before leaning like a more famous landmark in a much sunnier city. But this tower did not stay its movement. With a violent lurch, and a shower of dust and rubble, it too fell into the abyss to be swallowed by the earth.
    The abyss! Iain knew he was watching the place from his nightmares form above ground instead of in some subterranean world. With deep-seated dread and rooted to the spot he waited for the spiders to climb from the chasm. Before long they did, by their thousands; tearing into the living and the dead on the street alike, feasting with gluttony and rage. The beast was rising, the so far unseen leviathan. Iain didn’t need to see, he could feel its presence, calling to him, emitting evil. A thrum in his head; the rasping voice calling him: “Join us.”
    And there it was; the cry of the baby; small, innocent and well-hidden. Iain knew it had significance, but fathoming how proved elusive. He wanted to see, walk to the edge of the abyss and peer into the void but he was afraid. Standing, staring and trying to build enough courage to take the first steps on the short, but ever so long walk to the edge, his options were cut short as a gargantuan clawed foot appeared from beneath, reaching over the lip of the abyss and digging into tarmac. It was red, scaly and tipped with three shining black and wickedly pointed talons, one of which pierced an injured man as the giant beast climbed, almost, but not quite, cutting him in two.
    The first foot was closely followed by the second before massive muscles flexed and the great horned beast lifted itself into the world; as if born from dirt itself. The leviathan squinted, blinked its yellow eyes and peered around; drool hanging from its many teeth, sizzling as it dripped and hit the ground. The monster fixed its stare on Iain.

    He awoke with a gasp, his body coated with a clammy film of sweat. I have to warn them. Now knowing there was no alternative, no matter at what personal cost, he had to act. He was unwilling and unable to stand by and let them die. But what could he do? He was only one man, and a broken one at that. He thought about Bert’s proposition; maybe I should join them and save myself? What do I owe to the people of the world?

    And so it was that Iain found himself on a busy Saturday morning, standing on exactly the same corner as in his dream. A shudder ran down his