# Blinded

Fran Sánchez

A great catastrophe desolates humanity. A strong blinding light flashes in the blue Mediterranean sky for an instant. Almost every inhabitant ends up blind, only a few manage to escape the event. The novel, divided into several stories, narrates how several characters live and react to this apocalyptic situation in different ways. Imagine yourself blind, everything in the most absolute darkness, lost in the middle of the city, or at home. Not a single public service working, no one there to help you…

Blinded

Part II

By Fran Sánchez

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Warning

Rated 18+

© 2018 Francisco José Sánchez Contreras

© Cover design 2016 Francisco José Sánchez Contreras

© Blog Cegados por los libros

Editorial TEKTIME

Any resemblance to reality is entirely coincidental.

Rated for ages: 18 and above

CONTENTS

Chapter 1 Robert

Chapter 2 The Exam

Chapter 3 Indaletius

Chapter 4 The Teacher

About The Author: Fran Sánchez

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## Chapter 1. Robert

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Sandra’s thunderous voice echoed in his drowsy brain again.

“Rooobert! It’s getting late, get up, we won’t make it,” she said angrily. “It’s the second time I’ve called you.”

“Uahhh!” he stretched out at last.

“Come down, breakfast is ready, your toast is getting cold and, as always, we’re late.”

After his morning routine of satisfying his physiological needs, washing his face, brushing his teeth, and combing his hair, he began choosing his outfit for the day. Some simple blue denims and a comfortable red stamped T-shirt with the phrase “Not Today, Tomorrow…” in big yellow letters for the day. Since it was warm, even a bit hot, he left his jacket and hung it back in his wardrobe. He half-heartedly made his bed and went down the stairs to the dining room, fearing a tense breakfast.

Sandra had already finished and was picking her stuff off of the table as she reproached Robert for always having to be in a hurry. If he was sleepy in the morning it was because he did not have enough rest after going to bed very late at night. Robert glared at her in contempt as he swallowed his last piece of toast. He did not talk back; he wanted to avoid getting into a discussion. Besides, he thought Sandra was right, but he could not avoid getting distracted late at night. Something always came up: an entertaining TV show, something to read, or simply daydreaming of reconciliation.

After hurriedly finishing his drink, he left it on the dishwasher next to his plate, cleaned his side of the table, and quickly left through the door where Sandra kept urging him to hurry up.

“Gosh, I’m going!” Robert ended up answering back.

They walked quickly, trying to buy some time, but Robert kept falling behind. At that hour, there were always a large number of vehicles and pedestrians on the street, people that were going to their jobs, parents taking their children to school, delivery people carrying their goods already at work.

They had to cross the street through a pedestrian crossing that did not have traffic lights, which was always a very troublesome place. Drivers went by in a hurry and they rarely respected the zebra crossing, least of all in this particular spot, famous in the city since stopping there meant you would lose several precious minutes, indispensable for making it to your destination on time. The stream of passers-by was also numerous due to the proximity of many schools and, if you stopped your vehicle, the endless movement of pedestrians from both sides made it impossible to start moving again. This almost titanic struggle between vehicles and pedestrians had caused more than one controversy in the local news, forcing the city hall to establish an almost permanent arbitrator in the shape of a local police agent that regulated the chaos as best they could.

That morning, for unknown reasons, the absence of the agent caused the vehicles to gain the upper hand in the battle.

“They’re just not stopping,” said Sandra. “Now we’re really going to be late.”

The mandatory stop of a driving school vehicle at the zebra crossing felt like a lifesaver for the large amount of people that were waiting. The human flood began its quick march from both sides, meeting in the middle, where they had to dodge each other to make it past.

“Sandra,” called Robert at the worst moment.

She did not answer.

“I left my sandwich on the table in the hurry,” whispered Robert quite upset.

“Again? Robert!”

She stopped at the edge of the sidewalk and stared at him incredulously. When she managed to move, she resumed the march.

“Come on, Robert, quickly! Let’s go now!”

That gave him a moment of respite before the monumental scolding Robert foresaw in the future. After crossing at the last moment, they stopped a few meters away.

“Firstly, I’ve told you a thousand times not to call me Sandra, that’s how any of the millions of people on the planet can call me, but you are the only one who has the privilege of calling me mom, so use that prerogative.”

“What’s a prerogative?”

“Don’t beat around the bushes, look it up in a dictionary for practice later.”

“What bushes?” he insisted.

“I can’t with you, I can’t,” grieved Sandra sorrowfully. “You don’t listen, you sleep late, you get up late. It’s because of you that we’re always late; you’re late for school, I’m late for work. It’s the second time this week you’ve forgotten your sandwich. We’re going to have to stop by the shop to get you something, even if I’m tempted to leave you without anything to eat; see if you learn from that.

Robert lowered his gaze, teary-eyed, and stayed silent.

He had had an initially happy childhood and his parents had been a great couple. Always cheerful and happy, home felt easy and peaceful. They did not have any economic issues and they used to take numerous trips and excursions. Always with their son’s amusement in mind, they had visited every theme park in the country and they even took two trips to Disneyland in Paris.

Robert never lacked anything; they bought him the latest generation videogame consoles along with the newest games, including a connection to the internet. He was the envy of his classmates; many a long game night took place in his spacious home. His seven birthday parties had been awesome; some with wizards, others with clowns, others in the best children recreation centers of the city. He had even been the first one in his school to get a latest generation cell phone; like, truly amazing. But the tentacles of the economic crisis reached out directly into his father’s company, which greatly depended on housing construction. In a brief period of time, his springy financial cushion had deflated. The revenue had plummeted, the expenses for firing the numerous personnel depleted the company’s financial ability, the debts and bank loans pursued him relentlessly, and some unfortunate investments caused the final outcome of the total closure of his business.

His father, without a job, without an income, and drowning in debt, fell into a deep depression. His relationship with his partner deteriorated in the extreme; they argued frequently and, when the situation became unbearable, they broke up.

Sandra, a lower-level civil servant in leave of absence, asked for a re-admission and barely managed to pay the exorbitant mortgage with her salary. They lived hand to mouth with the rest; despite those hardships, there were others who had it worse.

Robert could not adapt to the new situation of want and impoverishment, since he was used to having it all, but the worst part was the absence of his father. Despite all of the reasons his mother gave him, he could not understand why his father could not live with them. Moreover, he blamed her for it, since she was the one who had taken the initiative with the separation.

Lately, his mother would not talk to him, except to scold and order him around with frequency. They would not do anything interesting in the weekends anymore, just watch TV, and he would play videogames on his own without an internet connection. It was even worse when he was with his father. He would not get back on his feet and had developed the sick obsession of interrogating him over and over about his mother’s new life. They would go over to his octogenarian grandparent’s house, where his father now lived, and his only joy was to play with their little dog that also lived there.

Robert’s personality had changed gradually. He had become more withdrawn overall and more insolent with his mother, to whom he would occasionally dedicate a loud tantrum. He slept and rested worse at night, his grades fell, and he was not as popular in school as before.

“Come on, let’s go to Miguel’s shop,” said Sandra, defeated. “You’ve already missed your first hour of class and I’ll have to recover my hours some afternoon.”

He followed her in silence, even though he did not like that shop, well, he did not like Miguel, the owner. Between child and manager, the feeling was mutual. Miguel was the typical storekeeper that had to deal with women of a higher economic and cultural status every day, so his conversation topics were poor and uninteresting. He always welcomed his clients with a smile that looked more like a grimace due to how fake it was. He was delightful towards the mothers, but, in any slip-up, or whenever they went on their own, he did not hide his foul attitude towards the children of his customers.

When they made it to the store they found Miguel at the door. He was happily admiring the pleasing, brand-new Supermarket sign that hung on the external wall of the building. It was big, excessive, and could be seen all along the street. He was happy with the purchase, despite having costed him a lot of money.

“Good morning, miss! Good morning, kid!”

He greeted them while giving Robert some pats on his head in a friendly manner as they entered the shop. Robert, who was not too keen on that kind of familiarity, did not say anything.

“Have you forgotten your breakfast again?” said the salesman, adding salt to injury.

“Well, in the hurry, you know,” said the mother.

“Isabel, give her the usual and bill her quickly, she’s in a hurry,” he ordered his employee with contempt.

While his mother payed, Robert silently grabbed a chocolate bar and snuck it in the pocket of his pants.

“Isabel, add another euro for the chocolate bar,” ordered Miguel emphatically.

“What chocolate bar?” asked Sandra, surprised.

Robert’s heartbeat rose, he was going to get in big trouble.

“The one your son hid in his pocket to avoid paying for,” he said.

“What? Robert, empty your pockets, now!” his mother ordered furiously.

Robert stammered for a moment, but, giving up, he pulled his pockets outward. A miracle! Inexplicably, they were empty.

“I… thought, sorry… I thought I saw him grab one and he then put his hand in his pocket,” babbled the storekeeper, not understanding what had happened.

“What do you even think of my son? Just what I was missing today, let’s go, Robert.”

Miguel, cursing at the child under his breath, watched stunned as they left. It was the last thing his eyes ever saw.

The intense flash of white light surprised Robert and his mother, having just left Miguel’s store.

Robert was still surprised wondering about what had happened to the chocolate bar as he went on the sidewalk. Maybe he had turned into a magician without knowing it!

When his eyes could not resist the intense bright light anymore, he let go of his mother and covered his left eye instinctively, and he let go of his breakfast-filled bag with his right to protect his other eye. He stopped, standing still for a couple of minutes, each hand covering his eyes, somewhere between surprised, scared, and in pain, without reacting and not knowing what to do. After the first minutes of the commotion, he started to come round. The first thing he did was call for Sandra incessantly.

“Mommy, mommy, mommy!” he repeated over and over, “I can’t see! I can’t see! Where are you?”

There was no reply; his feeble voice was lost among the widespread shouting. After a great effort, his vocal chords told him it was time to stop by making his voice hoarse. When he stopped shouting he noticed the great commotion roaring about him. Everybody was shouting names, calling to each other, crying out loud, asking for help, and they all said either that they could not see or that they were blind.

Tears flowed from his eyes, which dried up and became a sort of pasty slime that glued his eyelids shut, making it impossible to open them. After waiting a short time, he decided to move a little, but, disorientated, he moved in the wrong direction, returning to the store and getting farther away from his mother, who was searching for him desperately a few meters ahead.

Sandra was walking furiously because of what happened in the small supermarket. Never again would she buy anything else there, never again! They had lost a regular client.

Out of nowhere, the light outside gradually began getting brighter until it was unbearable, forcing her to close her eyes and instinctively protect them with her hands. She unknowingly gave three blind steps, moving away from Robert, who had stayed a few meters behind. It became hard for her to open her eyes, but that did not matter, she was already blind. Once she gathered herself a bit from the initial shock of the phenomenon, her maternal instinct made her look for her child. She desperately called him by name, though, among the commotion, the pleas for help, and the honks of the vehicles it was too difficult to hear an answer. She moved forward some steps again thinking she heard the voice of a child ahead shouting “mommy”. She kept going, blindly, until she stumbled upon the voice.

“Robert!” she called desperately.

“Where is my mom?” asked the unknown child’s voice.

“Wait here a little longer, darling, your mother is coming,” she said comfortingly.

Sandra did not know Robert had stayed behind and that they were consistently moving farther away from each other. She stepped forward a little more, very slowly, full of fear, in absolute darkness, unable to notice the declivity of the area, connected by a stairway. She lost her balance and fell down the stairs, ending up motionless at the bottom, unconscious, because she hit herself hard on the head forming a red bruise.

Robert wandered the street swerving aimlessly. A sudden, strong explosion nearby startled him and knocked him off his feet. Once on the ground he covered his head and a rain of small metal and plastic scraps fell over him. A few meters away a heap of junk smashed hard into the pavement. After recovering a bit from the scare, Robert got to his feet unharmed, except for his wet pee-stained pants.

Ashamed, he kept to his overwhelmed, uncertain path and approached some voices close by, tripping over a man’s leg. He grabbed to it firmly, it was soft. He noticed the presence of other people and he cried for help over and over, but the man and the others fell to the floor and rolled down the street a little. Robert did not have any other choice than to let go so as to not harm himself even more.

He was a bit tired, so he crawled until he reached a wall on which he sat next to and placed his back on the cold marble. He stayed there a long while, sad and pensive.

A cane unexpectedly hit him in the ankle.

“Ow!” groaned Robert.

“Sorry, are you blind?” asked an unknown voice.

“Yes, I can’t see a thing, please, help me, I can’t find my mommy.”

“Well, kid. Tell me a bit of what happened to you.”

He listened intently to the kid’s short story.

“Well, everything is a mess,” answered the blind man with the cane, “everyone is blind, and your mother must be as well.”

“My mommy is also blind?” he asked incredulous.

“I am blind and everyone in the line behind me is also blind, so we cannot help you find her.”

“What do I do?” asked the helpless child.

“Well, see here, if you want you can come with us. We’re headed to a medical facility to ask for help. Go to the end of the line and hold onto the hand of the person in front and follow what they say.”

Robert got up and slowly passed by the dozen people that formed the line until he reached the last one and he grabbed their hand as if his life depended on it.

“Kid, don’t grab my hand so tightly, chill, you’re going to break it,” said the ill-tempered man.

Robert loosened his hand and did not say a thing. He preferred to keep it shut since he recognized the voice of that individual.

“What’s that smell? Disgusting! Kid, did you piss yourself?”

The line of people moved forward, advancing somewhat slowly.

“Kid, are you mute as well as blind? Answer me…”

“No,” answered Robert tersely.

When the first blind person encountered an edge, an obstacle, or an anomaly, they would tell the one behind them and they would then in turn do the same. It went like that until the message passed through the entire line and reached Robert. The blind man before him only kept on complaining, that he pulled his hand, that he smelled bad. Furthermore, the messages he gave were unclear and most of them at the wrong time. He even had to hold tight onto his hand to avoid falling in many occasions.

“Kid, I’ve already told you not to grab on so tight, and your hand is all sweaty,” he whined.

“It’s just that I almost fell,” he replied.

“That voice! I know you, you’re the chocolate thief.”

“No, no, you’re wrong, I don’t know you,” he said.

“Yes, it is! It is you! You made me look bad this morning, you’re gonna pay…”

Robert got scared, he got very nervous and, fearing storekeeper Miguel’s revenge, he let go of his hand and walked away in another direction.

“Hey, stinky! What are you doing? Come back here! Come back here I said! Come back!” he shouted.

Robert escaped as fast as he could. He tripped several times, though he got up and kept on going. He hit a sign with his shoulder that said “Warning, Construction Site” and he almost lost his balance, but he kept moving forward. He slipped and fell on his backside down an embankment until he made it to the bottom, right next to the vehicle that had destroyed the perimeter fencing of the site. Robert would never notice the presence of a corpse that sat in the driver’s seat.

The half-built construction was a legacy of the famous economic crisis and, ironically, was promoted by his father. The four-story skeleton, out of the six projected stories, rose out of the vacant lot. The terrain was a bit muddy and there were still some remaining puddles from a great storm that had passed some days before in the city.

He was in some pain and had some scrapes; his nerves made him want to defecate. He lowered his pants and squatted. As he did his thing his hand came upon a plastic that was in one of the legs of his pants. He grabbed the damp wrapping, which he felt had something long and soft inside. Robert recognized the famed lost chocolate bar and he heartily devoured it in an instant. The mystery had been resolved. Thanks to a hole in his pants pocket, it had wound its way down to the bottom of his narrow pant leg.

The ingestion of sugar made him thirsty, so he solved it by drinking from one of the dirty puddles of stagnant water. He wandered and stumbled around the new surroundings for hours and the only viable way out was through the dirt ramp that trucks used to get in. The fence door, closed shut with a chain and lock, was intact. The slope from which he had fallen was too steep, impossible for a weak, blind child to climb. He nestled in a corner of the site to sleep. He was very tired, hungry, bruised, and weary. He cried a while as he thought of his mother, until he fell asleep.

A rumble of his stomach woke him up due to how hungry he was, but the cramp continued down to his intestines and, without giving him time to react, a powerful diarrhea invaded his underwear. He felt sick and was forced to stay naked from the waist down, though he could not clean the remainder that was left stuck to his skin and the bad smell stuck to him. The intestinal discomfort continued all day long. Night caught him by surprise again in an awful situation, without food or water, each time weaker, filthier, and more ragged. He got cold and a bit of a fever gave him the shivers.

The rising ambient temperature announced a new day. He could barely move that morning and he slept terribly. He had gotten used to his bad smell, but not to the cloud of flies that always accompanied him and kept sucking on the corner of his lips.

His hunger and dehydration forced him to move to survive. He ate a bit of some plants he found in the brush and he once again drank from the putrid puddle. He sought refuge in the shade again to rest and he slept during the whole day to try to regain his strength.

The warm caresses of the sunbeams of the new day woke him up. The diarrhea came back to him again. His rest area was covered in numerous defecations and the sticky clouds of flies made his life impossible, there was no other clean spot left. He decided to look for another refuge in the plot of the site to organize himself better, like trying to defecate always in the same place. Once he was outside he heard a soft sound.

“Who’s there? Please, help me. I’m blind, I’m very hungry and thirsty, I’m ill.”

He realized the sound was a series of growls just as he received a bite on his calf that made him cry out in pain. He received the next bite on his arm and the strong pull of the rabid dog knocked him to the ground.

Robert ended up easy prey for the starving pack of blind dogs that counted with an advantage thanks to their strong sense of smell and accurate hearing. The pack leader sunk its teeth into his neck, its fangs cut off his jugular, and a bubbling eruption of blood soaked the place. The pack drooled, eager for a feast.

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