Or the bridge could be out.
In this case, 'out' meant that its frame had been distorted by an impossible heat, pinching together unnaturally in the middle, ends twisted in opposite directions in a loose helix, like something out of an impossible video game fantasy.
There were no cones set up on this end, no person waving passersby or cars elsewhere - and still no sirens, not even in the distance, not even briefly flaring up to die again.
Both of Keneh's hands cradled her jaw, fingertips loosely held in part against her nose, in part against her cheeks, her right shoulder pressed against a brick wall, staring at the Escher-inspired wreck a block from her current position. She'd stopped dead in her tracks when it'd become apparent what she was seeing. She hadn't sunk to her knees quite yet, but it was starting to dawn on her that while they could probably find an alternate route back to their apartment block with minimal effort, something had fundamentally changed.
“What now?” she mumbled into her hands, meaning the question for Delaney, albeit delivered without any associated obligation to actually answer. Between the two sites, she felt exposed and vulnerable up above-ground, but what alternative was there? Abandoned houses that were unlikely to be the target of sweeps were few and far between, and this felt too much like a deliberate attempt to delineate territory as that she could quite dismiss the mental image. She felt like they'd been impossibly lucky not to be picked off. This was more than one 'mutant' - more even than the two the distant fire from earlier might have suggested.
“Um.” This was big. This was bigger than she knew how to deal with. This was way, WAY beyond a couple of crazy people and right up with organised terrorism or military action. She did not want to be in the middle of military action. This was bad. This was so so bad. “Out of town seems good?” Delaney managed in a wobbly voice. Attacks and things always focused on big population centers, right? “I mean, people have to know about this. But there's nobody here. Which is bad, because that means someone is making them stay away and that means we shouldn't be here either.” And she was going to scream if zombies showed up but this was starting to look like just the sort of thing that zombies showed up in and maybe they should be looking at some sort of weapon?
Keneh nodded mutely. Her sense of direction was practically useless - she knew the way between their apartment block and her work place off by heart, along with a few alternate routes, and the way to some choice restaurants and stores, but beyond that, she'd have trouble even being entirely certain about the cardinal direction she was facing in most. It had never seemed relevant to know her place on the map, not with the internet rendering her physical location practically irrelevant. It took some effort to work out that the best way out of the city was to head back. It was tempting to keep to the water's edge as a point of reference, but at this point, she doubted she had the courage to take such an obvious route. Her hands dropped, a tense breath puncturing the silence, fingers coming to clutch at her elbows. “What way?” Her gaze stayed fixed on the bridge but for a fleeting moment of being warily cast back the way they'd come from. Staying in one place felt like precisely the wrong thing to do, but she had no courage to move in either direction without a prompt.
That was a good question. Which way was best? East took them towards the coast and port and possible escape-by-sea, but that required a boat and was easily cut off and really exposed. West took them inland and away from people and presumably danger but towards all sorts of creepy crawlies and no food. And either way required a lot of city to be crossed first.
So… shelter? Shelter was good. They could zigzag from one bit to the next over time and shouldn't there be police or something telling them which way to go by now? Everyone couldn't be dead. There had to be lots of people around somewhere, so maybe they should find the people. “Nearest sports ground? Aren't they the evacuation points?” Delaney asked uncertainly. “I mean there have to be people somewhere that know what's going on. Or is this more a cyclone thing than a fire or flood thing? I don't know where the closest cyclone shelter is.”
The idea of going anywhere designed for people to gather at in case of disaster seemed like precisely the wrong idea to Keneh, raising the hairs on the back of her neck even while the small part of her desperate for order and safety wanted to believe that was the way things would return to normal. She didn't want to be seen. If there were a way to make herself - and Delaney - invisible, she'd be all over that course of action.
A near-inaudible curse escaped her in culminated frustration - with no smartphone, she had no maps, no GPS, no telecommunication, and it was starting to grate on her, registering as a terrible mistake in hindsight not to get one. Granted, if they shuffled out of the city the battery life of this hypothetical smartphone was going to be the major limiting factor, but it felt like she'd locked herself out of something that certainly sounded like a sensible option now. But then, what was that saying about greener grass again?
It took a long moment that almost took her past the point of any courtesy to sort through her contradicting thoughts enough to look at Delaney in acknowledgement, promising a verbal answer soon.
But it was a different emotion that won out. “…let's take a closer look.” Her tone was one of stubbornness, a surprise even to herself, showing in her body language. “And then find a way to disappear. I don't care how we do it. Somewhere inside or underground.” There'd be more opportunities for former, but at this time early in the night it'd be hard to find an open door anywhere - especially one that wasn't going to attract any attention.
“A closer look at the bridge?” Delaney clarifies, looking at Keneh uncertainly. That didn't seem like a good idea to her. Mostly because whatever was capable of turning steel bars into pretzels was capable of doing far worse to their fragile flesh and brittle bones. But maybe it would be helpful? If the bridge was hot then it might have been melted and that said they should get underground (and hope whatever did the heating stayed on the surface and didn't flow downstairs like molten lava and trap them and badthoughtsbadthoughts stopit!).
Or it it was blunt force trauma then… okay, so she didn't have any plausible way blunt force trauma could work that wasn't invoking Godzilla and creepy mutant humans were bad enough, she didn't need to add radioactive dinosaurs to the mess as well. It was probably something really simple. Like a bomb. That may have been set by the mutant-terrorists. And had already blown up so things were safe, bombs only went boom once.
Anyway, they could work out what may have happened and then try to find somewhere to go and someway of getting news and figure out how to clear out of the area and let people with a clue clean up the mess. That was a plan. Plans were good.
Delaney did not do Keneh the favour of taking the first step. Her fingers clutched at her other arm's elbow in a brief dithering gesture - then she's walking forward, shifting some instinctive autopilot off its usual course. A block was nothing. She could stay resolute for a block. Her pace morphed from a stern, rapid gait, expressing the desire to get the inspection of the burnt bridge over with to a progressively slower walk as they approached the crossing immediately before the bridge.
She stopped a few metres shy of the crossing. There was too much road in both directions and her pounding heart was refusing her the pleasure of being above her petty fear of being spotted. But this was closer, at least, and the bridge's detailed distortion was a lot more obvious now.
Cracks littered the pavement of the bridge's base, some deep and wide, some looking like the surface had sprung due to vertical tectonic forces, and practically all described curves. The metal frame looked charred where it hadn't morphed from heat, top arches twisted into a central knot of impressive size, for lack of any other way to describe the impression the mangled bridge gave. Its butchered structural integrity was failing it on a scale of hours, a pavement that - as far as Keneh and Delaney could see from their new vantage point - began to have more in common with black volcanic outflow than with a road further toward the pinch-point sagging downwards into a temporary and no doubt already partly ruptured valley.
All in all, it did not inspire thoughts that this was something either of them could deal with, but it was a bit more real now, and while the forces that must have acted on it weren't plausible, the more detailed view at least offered itself to a more rigorous scientific scrutiny.
In theory.
Motion on the other side of the bridge made Keneh duck instinctively - a group of three people, anonymous by distance, were inspecting the bridge from a similar distance, but more haste.
Maybe Keneh and Delaney were on the right side of this. Just because they'd witnessed something bizarre half an hour ago did not necessarily mean that they were worse off than the people on the other side of the bridge. They could have been walking toward the focal point instead of away from it.
The theory quickly took hold in Keneh's head, switching her more firmly from terror-stricken to resolute. If they weren't in immediate danger, they could try to help others - and move around, looking for shelter, without having to watch their every step. A gesture to Delaney later, she's slinking back the way they came, carefully keeping an eye on the people across the bridge. They hadn't noticed them yet, but then, she was only seeing corners of them, too, and making sure it stayed at that.
There was no way she was letting Keneh go off alone and Delaney found herself automatically keeping pace. Safety in numbers and all that. Because of course something that wasn't frightened of either of them would find both together so much more intimidating.
The bridge looked even worse up close. This wasn't just fire weakening it, it was twisted and melted and sagging in impossible ways. She didn't think an explosion could do that (although most of her knowledge was Hollywood and that was probably a bad guide). There was still a tangible heat seeping from the ruined pavement and they were still meters away; without the pale ashes of magnesium or the splatter-flows of thermite Delaney couldn't figure out a way of a bomb producing something that would stick around like that.
This was something she'd expect from a structure caught unawares by an erupting volcano. Pity none of those existed on this continent. Was the cure for hyperventilation to stick your head between your knees or to breath from a paper bag? There might be a sudden need to know.
“I really don't want to be anywhere within cooee of something that can do that, what the hell HAPPENED?!” she hissed in alarm. The only thing this scene needed to complete the post-apocalyptic look was a mob of zombies, a truck full of Mad Max wannabes, and some grime. Or maybe some mushroom clouds ominously drifting over the horizon and the others could be pasted in a month or so later.
She let Keneh pull her back towards the dubious shelter of buildings (because whatever thing was responsible hit them no amount of brick was going to save them) and tried to figure out how to survive. Getting as far away as possible was what they needed to do, but how could they tell what direction 'away' was?
“Don't know,” Keneh commented, keeping her voice low, tone fairly flat, albeit with tension wound into it. “Don't really care. Let's shake someone that's still awake out of their stupor.” It didn't sound entirely as if it were a question about getting help - Keneh's fear had inexplicably at least temporarily evaporated, or had been reduced to a background hum that could be ignored. The fact that they'd seen someone wield something like telekinesis earlier clearly no longer factored in, not even as an optional answer for Delaney's question.