Intentional Dissonance by pleasefindthis, Iain S. Thomas

and howling and screaming like animals. The child is delirious. Jon knows what it’s like to be afraid. Jon takes his hand and pulls him through the school in no particular direction.
    “What’s your name?”
    “Wilfred, sir.”
    “No, don’t call me sir. We only call grown-ups sir.”
    “Ok.”
    “My name is Jon. Wilfred, we’re going to get out of here, ok?”
    “Ok.”
    “Do you know what you call a fish with no eyes, Wilfred?”
    “No.”
    “A fshhhh.”
    The screams of the shadows and a mist made of white light hang over everything and they are the strangest possible accompaniments to Wilfred’s giggling. Jon takes Wilfred and pushes through it all, knowing that Wilfred’s mind has been taken off everything a little; knowing that it’s still possible to tell jokes gives Jon the faintest sense of hope. Jon pushes through.
    They make it to the entrance near the carpark where the parents drop their children off each morning. Cars lay on top of cars. Smoke fills the air. Ashes fall. The screams go on and on and on. Jon is more scared than he’s ever been. He was the most scared he’d ever been last night. But this is everyone. Everyone is dead or dying. The clock tower has been knocked down. Bricks lie scattered across the playground. In the face of all this, Wilfred sobs hot tears. There is no joke Jon can tell to take his mind off this carnage.
    “The wolves…the wolves are eating everyone,” says the child.
    A lady runs past, blood streaming down her face, chased by shadows. An old man convulses in the street. Chaos lives here now. Chaos and death. Jon starts running towards his home, holding Wilfred’s hand, dashing out of the parking lot. They make it to the bushes along the side of the school and Jon sees a pack of shadows rounding a corner, approaching them but before the shadows can see them, he pulls Wilfred and himself into the bushes. Wilfred is still crying and he clamps his hand over Wilfred’s mouth until nothing can be heard but muffled sobs. The shadows stop just outside and one takes a step towards where they are, sniffing the air. Jon wills every part of him to be still and wishes to high heaven that Wilfred understands that he needs to be quiet. Suddenly, a house across the road erupts in chaos and broken windows and screams and the pack of shadows leaps towards it as one. Jon stays still for another few seconds and then leans down to whisper into Wilfred’s ear.
    “Wilfred, what is green and brown, has six legs and if it fell out of a tree would kill you?”
    Wilfred shakes his head.
    “A pool table.”
    Wilfred smiles for a moment and that’s enough for Jon. He knows Wilfred won’t give up and just start crying on the ground. He jumps out of the bushes, still holding Wilfred’s hand and they run as fast as they have ever run in their lives. They make it to Jon’s house and Jon fumbles with the key he found in his box of cigarettes that morning and manages to open the door, shoving Wilfred and himself inside before slamming the door shut again. He holds it closed with his body, expecting at any moment for something to slam against it, demanding entry, demanding that they die, screaming.
    Jon can hear the sound of the TV in the house and he takes Wilfred with him towards the sound. It sounds strange to have something as normal as a TV on inside this nightmare. He walks into the lounge and Jon’s mother is watching the news. Her eyes dart backwards and forwards from them to the TV, not even really registering that they’re there. Her normally perfect blonde hair is everywhere at once. She’s scratched her forearms bloody. Jon goes to the kitchen and gives Wilfred some milk.
    “Stay away from the windows!” Jon’s mother hisses at them. Jon nods. Jon is brave for Wilfred and doesn’t react, doesn’t cry. The newscaster is speaking. The newscaster is out of breath. A ticker tape at the bottom of the screen flashes statistics and details and numbers and short, sharp