1 Chapter One: The Cracked Sky

The bungalow sat at the end of Walnut Close, a short cul-de-sac on the outskirts of Wildbridge. Inside, the rocking chair creaked as it rocked gently back and forth in the darkened room. Desiree sat quietly in the chair, studiously reading the book in her hand: The Psychology Of The Serial Killer by B.H. Warner. An unusual subject, she had to admit, but it was something that interested her greatly. She reached out for the steaming mug of freshly-made tea that sat on the nearby coffee table.

She sighed as she took a sip of tea, and looked around the room. A haze of sunlight filtered through the heavy curtain that covered the window. She hated having to sit and read in the dark, but if she didn't pull the curtain across during the day, the bright sunlight would shine directly into the room, bleaching all the furniture. She glanced down at the surface of the coffee table as she put her mug down. The far corner was considerably paler than the rest, from where it had previously sat in the direct sunlight.

Having the curtain closed also allowed her to sit facing the window, without the sunlight shining directly into her eyes as she read. She had positioned the rocking chair next to the coffee table, opposite the dark blue couch that lay against the wall to her right. The wall to her left contained a simple fireplace with a plain oak surround, within which stood an old, disused electric fire. These days, the fire was little more than a decoration. It had been a long time since she had last needed to use it. She wasn't even certain that it would still work if she switched it on. A collection of photographs hung above the fireplace, featuring several generations of her family. In truth, she wasn't entirely certain who some of the people were.

A plain sideboard covered in birch veneer sat against the wall behind her chair, next to the small, similarly clad bookcase from which she had retrieved the book she was now reading. She was content, in the peace and quiet of the late afternoon. Outside, the air was still and silent. No birds sang in the sky. No people toiled in their gardens. No sounds of housework or other labours emanated from within any of the neighbouring bungalows. No vehicles sped along the main road at the far end of the cul-de-sac.

The quiet peacefulness was suddenly shattered by a loud splintering sound emanating from outside. It sounded like the smashing of a million panes of glass overhead. The sound seemed to reverberate around the room for several seconds. Startled, Desiree looked up from her book, worried that something calamitous had happened. She cocked her head to one side, and listened intently for a few seconds. But there were no further loud noises, only the gentle creaking of the rocking chair. She frowned, suddenly unsure whether there had actually been a loud noise. Had she just imagined it?

She glanced over to the photographs above the fireplace, wondering whether there had been an earthquake, or an explosion of some sort. Although infrequent, earthquakes were not uncommon in the area. She had always attributed them to the mining works on the outskirts of the city, aftershocks from the detonation of explosive charges. Sometimes, she could even feel the bungalow shake in response to a detonation, even if she couldn't hear the explosion.

She hadn't felt anything this time, though. Mind you, the bungalow was solidly built, and these earthquakes were often too small to shake it. But even the smallest earthquake seemed to be enough to set the photographs moving, swaying gently from side to side on the wall. Sometimes even the gentle rumbling sound of a cargo cruiser's engines as it passed overhead was enough to set them off.

The pictures hung motionless, however. She frowned. Whatever it was that had caused the loud splintering noise, it hadn't been an earthquake. The bungalow had not been shaken at all. She stood up with a groan, and placed the book on the coffee table, next to her mug of tea. She staggered over to the window, rubbing her temples. She suddenly had a major headache. She wasn't sure whether it had been brought on by the sudden loud splintering noise, or if it was just the strain on her eyes from reading.

She pulled back the curtain covering the window, and bright sunlight flooded into the room. She blinked furiously. As she had been sat in the darkness for the last couple of hours, it took a moment or two for her eyes to become used to the light. Once they had adjusted sufficiently, she peered nervously out of the window.

Her eyes widened. She raised a hand to her mouth and gasped, suddenly overcome by a combination of shock and horror. She recoiled from the window, stumbling backwards into the coffee table. The collision sent the book flying across the room, and nearly knocked over her mug, which was still half full of tea. She flailed her arms around in a futile attempt to regain her balance, but couldn't prevent herself from tumbling to the floor. Somehow, she managed to twist her body as she fell, and narrowly avoided collapsing directly on top of the coffee table. Instead, she hit the floor between the coffee table and the couch with a loud thud.

She lay still for a moment, her heavy landing having knocked the wind out of her. After a few moments, she let out a low moan and clambered slowly to her feet, gasping for air. On the wall, the photographs swayed gently from side to side in unison. She glared at them angrily as she dusted herself down, as if accusing them of making an adverse comment on her weight.

She placed her hands on her lower back, and attempted to stretch herself out. A sharp, stabbing pain emanated from the base of her spine, causing her to almost double up in agony. She furiously rubbed her back to try to make the pain go away. It didn't work. She let out a loud moan. Now her back hurt almost as much as her head.

Still moaning from the dull pain that coursed through her body, she staggered towards the door leading out into the hallway. She paused at the door, considering whether to turn left and head into the kitchen at the rear of the bungalow to fetch some painkillers. She decided that she had better take a look outside first. She reached uncertainly for the front door. She wasn't sure whether to believe what she had seen out of the window. If it were true, then clearly something was terribly wrong with the world.

Desiree opened the front door. Outside, the sunlight was even brighter. As she made her way down the path from her front door, she covered her eyes with her hand and blinked several times. Once her eyes stopped hurting from the light, she looked up into the sky. Her heart sank, and a horrified expression settled on her face. She hadn't been imagining things when she looked out of the window. The sky was cracked. Or at least, there appeared to be several large cracks in the sky.

They seemed to jag across the sky in all directions. It was almost like she was looking at the world through a cracked pane of glass. Her eyes followed the course of one of the larger cracks. It extended all they way to the ground, like a lightning strike frozen in time. As it carved its way through the sky and the landscape, the crack cut through clouds, trees, even buildings in the distance.

As she stared in wonder and horror at the cracks in the sky, she heard the low rumbling sound of a number of small engines. Suddenly, a small group of Federation craft swept past, conducting one of their usual patrols. She stood still, as if frozen in place, not wanting to draw attention to herself. She hoped they hadn't spotted her. Loitering outside during the day was a serious violation of the city's ordinances. People could be locked up for merely stepping outside their house at the wrong time.

Her eyes followed the craft as they moved across the sky. As they approached what appeared to be the largest of the cracks, she found herself wondering whether any of the pilots had noticed. Surely one of them would have seen the cracks and raised the alarm by now?

As each craft moved directly across the line of the crack, it seemed to warp and disappear for a fraction of a second, as if it were actually passing behind the crack. She gasped, and looked around in panic. She was beginning to wonder whether she was seeing things. She rubbed her eyes and blinked furiously, trying to banish these apparent delusions from her mind. But when she looked back into the sky, the cracks were still there.

She looked along the road at the other bungalows that lined Walnut Close. She wondered why none of her neighbours had rushed out of their house to investigate. Surely they must all have heard the loud splintering noise? Had none of them looked out of a window and noticed the cracks that had appeared in the sky?

But the cul-de-sac was deserted. Not one of her neighbours had emerged from their bungalow to investigate the loud noise. Not one of them was staring in wonder at the cracks in the sky. She began to wonder if this was all a dream. She pinched herself firmly on the arm. No, that definitely hurt. So this probably wasn't a dream, and was actually happening. Or was she going mad?

She groaned and rubbed her forehead. Her headache wasn't helping matters. At least it was nice and quiet. She suddenly frowned, realising that it was nice and quiet. Too quiet, in fact. She could no longer hear the engines of the Federation craft. Thinking back, she couldn't remember if she had still been able to hear the engines after the craft had crossed the path of the largest crack. She scanned the sky for any sign of craft, but they had long since departed, continuing their patrol in another quadrant of the city.

She closed her eyes and sighed deeply, partly with relief and partly in an attempt to clear her head. She shook her head, trying to rid her mind of the ridiculous notion that the sky had somehow become cracked. When she opened her eyes, and pulled her hair back from in front of her face, she sighed with disappointment. The cracks in the sky were still there. Either they were real, or she was genuinely going mad.

She glared angrily at the sky, summoning up all her willpower to order the cracks to disappear. It didn't help. If anything, it seemed to make matters worse. There appeared to be even more cracks in the sky now. And her headache was getting worse. She rubbed her forehead again, wondering if whatever it was that had caused all these cracks to appear in the sky was also responsible for her headache. Or were the cracks simply delusions caused by her headache?

Still rubbing her forehead to try to ease her headache, Desiree turned and headed back into her bungalow for some painkillers. As she strode unsteadily along the path leading to her front door, she froze. She had clearly heard another splintering sound, somewhat quieter than the first but no less worrying. It had seemed to emanate from directly above her. Suddenly forgetting all about her headache, she looked upwards fearfully.

Almost directly above her head, there appeared to be a large collection of cracks in the sky. Considerably more than in other parts, she noted as her eyes frantically darted across the sky. These cracks seemed to almost be arranged in a grid pattern, with large cracks running across the sky and smaller cracks bridging the gaps between the larger ones. As she stared in a mixture of wonder and horror, there was another splintering sound. This was followed by a barely audible plink, as one small rectangular patch of sky detached itself from its surroundings and began falling towards her.

She screamed in horror and stumbled backwards into the road, her eyes fixed on the falling piece of sky. It rotated as it fell, becoming almost arrow-like as it gained velocity. As it fell ever closer towards her, she realised that it was going to crash directly into her bungalow. Panic-stricken, she cowered in fear and covered her head with her hands. Her entire body shaking in fear, she closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable collision.

As her eyes were closed, she did not see that two additional cracks formed in the falling piece of sky. Nor did she observe that the piece then separated into three separate shards as it neared the ground. However, she did hear the crashing, crunching sound as the three shards smashed through the flat roof of her bungalow.

The noise of the impact reverberated around Walnut Close for a few moments, echoing off the walls of the other bungalows. Small chunks of masonry flew through the air, bouncing off the hard tarmac of the road. For a moment, it sounded like heavy rain, or even hailstones, striking the ground.

As the noise died down and the rain of masonry ceased, Desiree felt a small chunk of something bounce off her leg. She flinched in pain, and opened her eyes. Small pieces of brick, tile, plaster, glass, and other parts of the fabric of her bungalow littered the ground. Fearful that her bungalow may have been completely destroyed by the impact, she stood up and looked around.

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