29A heat of twenty seven million degrees Fahrenheit burned with a massive roar. Explosions of gas particles vibrated vigorously swirling in and out and around each other. Each molecule, not knowing of its own existence, its own bedazzling radiance and heat its very importance that should it disappear, all life on the distant planet of Earth would cease to exist, expanded, replicated itself and then exploding with more magnificence then any firework perceived by a small boy. Meteorites closed into the burning embers of the star and decimated into nothing but stardust and then dissolved out of existence. The sound crackled through the thick of space each discharge of gas resonating off of the other particles. The heat waxed and waned uncontrollably within the void of space, reaching nearly six billion kilometres away before finally dying.
The light stretched unimaginably further through the entirety and endless rifts of space. A single ray emitted from the eruptions and travelled through the darkness of the empty void of space, but by no means bleak. The other stars mute from where the ray travelled shone brilliantly the same as the sun. They were like pinholes in the deep of the solar system, revealing the light, but no more than pin-pricks of luminescence could be perceived. Comets and debris hurtled round and about, some in specific orbit and others without course or direction. A bejewelled rock seemed to close in on the ray, large and blue and beautiful, delicately made with purpose and intricate detail, a perfect compliment of God's amazing power and wisdom. As the ray moved swiftly into the planet's atmosphere, it sundered into the oxygen and air, and slowly faded into Clive's eyesight. He gazed anxiously up at the setting sun, slowly sinking behind the ocean.
The red Corsa effortlessly pushed it's away across the boulevard, hotels offices and other buildings towering to its left, an empty shingled beach to its right. Few people lined the littered streets, a mix of people finishing late from work and those getting an early night out on the town. A white drop landed upon the window. "Bloody seagulls" the crispy voice of a young female came from behind the steering wheel. Clive smirked, taking out a tissue from the glove-box. He gave the window a wipe and threw it out onto the street. No one would notice, very few would care. The car slowed down at some lights.
"How far now?" he asked the woman driving, placing his hand firmly on the grip of a well-used revolver and made sure the safety was on.
"About three more miles so be ready. Remember just let me do the talking. This is going to work" the voice responded. Clive took a look at his partner. She was beautiful. Talena's red hair, usually tied back into a ponytail hung loose, unwashed and somewhat dishevelled. She tapped her hands on the steering wheel to the tune on the radio, a mellow beat by an old rock band. Her hazelnut eyes darted around cool and collected, trying hard to remember what it was she was going to say. Clive tried hard not to look so nervous. She had many more years experience ahead of him.
He could still remember when they first met, got partnered up together. His dreams had come true, until he overheard her saying to their boss "Why do I always get the ones that look like they've just flunked out of clay pottery class for making obscene noises with the clay and throwing it about." Still, over the past month or two their relationship became healthier. It needed to be in this line of work. 'You can't just throw it around like unwanted clay' Clive thought, thinking back to his college years. As he reflected on their friendship and on what she's told him, about growing up in a seaside town helping her mom sell ice-cream and working through summer holidays he relaxed almost forgetting where he was. Then the car stopped. His stomach churned.
They walked casually alongside the road. "Let me do the talking" Talena re-iterated, checking the gun in the holster on her left inner-thigh. She wore baggy jeans and a tight top. Clive walked beside her and nervously said "I have no intention of even looking at them" scratching his unshaven chin. He couldn't wait to get rid of the beard. They crossed the road. Clive started mumbling "You know I'm sure we should have back…"
"I know what you're sure of" Talena interrupted, following his line of thought. "But I've waited too long for this. It's been too long for 'someone' to now turn around and tell me I'm not allowed to grab this opportunity because 'someone' can't spare his time. Screw that, we're doing this now."
They moved on to a garden hedge at least six foot tall, breaking only to allow a small gate with which to gain access to the sectioned-off property. The house at the end of the cracked path stood like a shadow within the city, invisible to most who pass it, many blissfully unaware of its existence. The grass on the lawn was slightly overgrown and messy; a needle lay beside a sprinkler that poked its nose out of the damp soil with a drip or two resting on it in the faded setting sun. Plants lay in broken pots and ran alongside the stained white walls of the house. Windows reflected the dim sunlight and refused to allow anyone to gaze in. Talena stepped up to the black metal knocker and rapped three times. The streets outside were silent. No birds flew overhead. The wind passed by without once caressing their skin but could be heard in the faint hush of the trees. After a short moment the door creaked open.