2006

The Final Day

Jaron Summers

I'm a security guard. If I ever pass the police aptitude test, I'm going to be a full-fledged peace officer and then I can carry a gun.

Just around midnight I was patrolling when I observed this dude, dressed up like a friggin' ninja, all in black, scaling the 15-foot cyclone fence, the one with razor wire along its top.

The dude gave me a nasty scowl, eyes looking green but that was because of the mercury vapor lights. "Get lost, puny mortal," he said.

"Your mouth is bleeding."

"Owl blood. I just ate," he hissed.

"We have laws about eating owls and it's illegal to climb that fence. You have any idea what's on the other side of it?"

"Man's instrument for his eternal destruction," said the dude.

"No way. That's a nuclear power plant and no one is allowed inside except employees with badges."

The dude did a double back flip and landed on his feet, his green eyes glaring at me.

He was better than any gymnast I'd ever seen. "How the heck did you do that?"

"I am the Avenging Angel of Death." He kind of puffed himself up.

"You've had a little too much to drink but you're still one heck of an athlete and you've got your whole life ahead of you. Now, forget about silly stories of owl eating —"

"I can destroy you with my thoughts, puny mortal."

"The guys at the station put you up to this, didn't they?"

"The Book of Prophecies foretells that I, the Avenging Angel, will begin the destruction of mankind with fire. Darkness will rein supreme for a thousand years, starting at the stroke of midnight on 2666."

"You mean 2006?"

"No. It's was supposed to be 2666, but people are so rotten I got permission to come early."

I glanced at my Timex. "You're late. It's five minutes past midnight, dude, guess you missed your deadline."

"It is one minute before midnight, puny mortal." He held up his wrist to show me his glistening gold Rolex.

"Your watch is slow. It's all that electromagnetic static from the nuclear plant. Screws up wind-up watches by 10 or 15 minutes a day. We wear battery powered around here."

"No!" screamed the dude. His eyes rolled back into his head. "The Supreme Master of the Universe warned me about being late—"

I turned as a huge bat flapped by and then I looked back at the dude. Gone. He had left a pile of ashes on the concrete.

What a litterbug. Supreme Master of the Universe, indeed.

Happy 2006.