Authors: Joyful Devastation
In the distance, the hospital was
on fire, like something from a disaster movie. He saw a few people running in
the hospital parking lot. More of the black insect creatures mowed them down
with what looked like a cattle prod. The device buzzed and even this far away
it made something in the base of his skull hurt. The people running fell down
and the creature picked them up like so much meat and they disappeared. He had
no idea where they went. None of this made sense.
It doesn’t
make sense unless those weird dreams I have aren’t dreams
, Gideon thought, heart
in his throat.
Unless those dreams are truly
memories…
He thought of the sand towers and the lights in a desert that
didn’t exist on Earth. The feeling of unutterable sadness when his mother
kissed him goodbye, black armor shifting around her neck to cover her face. Her
shouting…
No. Now is not the time for a
flashback of something that doesn’t exist.
Gideon forced himself to
concentrate on the here and now.
Theo caught his attention.
What the fuck, aliens?
he mouthed and
Gideon touched his fingers to his mouth—
no
talking.
Theo nodded. They began to move across the parking lot, quiet and
careful.
I really don’t want those things to
see us,
Gideon thought, trying to wrap his brain around the idea that there were aliens
on Earth. At one point, they had to stop and crouch behind a car when one of
the creatures grabbed a body not five feet from them. Gideon’s heart pounded so
hard he was sure the thing would hear, but instead it simply lifted the body,
scales sliding over its limbs as it moved. A dark airborne vehicle swept them
up. All of this was accomplished in near silence.
Gideon stared at the empty spot on
the ground. What the hell had he just seen? He didn’t have time to speculate.
Theo was already moving again, toward his truck, thankfully one of the few left
untouched in the devastation.
You mean somewhat untouched,
he thought wryly as he
unlocked the door and opened it. There was a huge gouge down the side panel and
the bed of the truck had been dented somehow, as if a giant hand had punched
it. Even so, it was upright and all the tires seemed fine. He scrambled inside,
dragging Bea behind him. Theo slid in and eased the door shut, wincing as he
settled himself.
“I still can’t believe you drove my
truck to pick me up. You hate this truck. What’s wrong with your car?” Theo
bitched.
Gideon sighed. “It’s in the shop,
remember?”
“Are you okay?” Bea asked, glancing
down at Theo’s groin.
Gideon remembered Theo’s wound and
looked too, but it was too dark to see anything.
“I’m fine. Just sore,” Theo
replied, handing Gideon the gun in exchange for the keys. “The anesthetic’s
wearing off.”
Bea frowned, the eerie light from
the burning hospital casting shadows on her face. “I’d feel better if I could
check it,” she murmured, then glanced at the hospital. Her expression went from
concerned to blank.
Gideon understood. All her
coworkers were probably dead and she knew it. The fire was too extensive for
hope. “I’m sorry,” he said, still not quite able to believe what was happening.
She swallowed, but didn’t look at
him. “Yeah, me too.”
“Is there anyone waiting at home
for you?” Theo asked, hand poised over the keys. “We could drop you off—”
She laughed harshly. “No. My sister
died years ago. My older brother is in the military. Overseas.” She stared out
the window. “He’s likely dead, given the scale of this, this…” She trailed off,
clearly unable to describe the devastation.
Gideon clasped her hand,
understanding completely. “I’m alone, too,” he said. “Grew up in foster homes.”
She smiled grimly at him. “We’re
all orphans now.”
Theo started the car. “The hell we
are. I need to check on Ivy and then find my sister.”
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Gideon said,
feeling terrible.
“Don’t be sorry. I’m taking you
both with me,” Theo said, pulling out and weaving around the debris on the
ground.
“Who is Ivy?” Bea asked.
“My niece. She’s fourteen. I moved
in with my sister, Ella, after her husband died a few years ago.” Theo drove
slowly, careful not to run over anything that might make a lot of noise.
Gideon prayed the sound of the
truck wouldn’t bring any aliens.
Not like we have any choice,
he mused,
looking at the uprooted trees at the edge of the parking lot.
“I’ve considered Gideon part of my
family for years now. And I’ve officially adopted you, Bea. You’re sticking
with us,” Theo said, driving over the curb. The exit lane was blocked with
crushed cars.
“Okay,” Bea said, her voice
shaking. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank us.”
Gideon pulled her close and hugged her. “I’ve only known you a little while,
but I know you’re a good person. A survivor. And you’re important, to me.” He
looked at Theo. “To Theo, too.” Gideon meant every word. Now was not the time for
pretense. She was important because she was alive and a human being. She was
strong and beautiful. And she was a doctor.
She took a shaky breath. “Okay.”
He let go, glad to have taken at
least a little of the misery out of her face. “Okay.”
Theo tossed them a quick smile. “Okay.”
****
Theo drove slowly with the lights
off, taking back roads instead of main thoroughfares. As he drove, he looked at
the landscape with horror. He couldn’t figure out what could have caused such
widespread damage. It wasn’t like any sort of traditional incendiary weapon
damage. Some trees were smashed, but not charred. Crushed cars littered the
roads. Worst of all, there were way too few people. Somehow, being trapped in
that elevator had protected them from the worst of what happened.
“I think it was some kind of sonic
weapon,” Gideon said quietly.
Clearly, he’d been thinking the
same thing Theo had. “That’s impossible,” he replied just to be contrary,
taking another turn. The suburban development along this road was wrecked, like
a giant had smashed all the houses in a fit of temper.
“What’s impossible is having giant
insects invade our planet like a bad B-movie,” Bea offered.
Theo snorted. “You’ve got a point.”
He took another turn, driving slowly. Without the headlights, the curvy road
was difficult to follow.
“At least the car started,” Gideon
said, staring at his dead phone again.
“It’s dead. Let it go,” he told his
partner. When Gideon ignored him, he continued, “And think about how many times
you made fun of my truck. Not so funny now, huh?” Theo had to say. He patted
his steering wheel.
“It’s a hunk of junk,” Gideon said,
reflexively.
“It has no electronic parts.” Theo said,
then shook his head. “Was it an EMP?”
“Had to be,” Bea said. “What else
could kill all our electronics? Your radio doesn’t work.” She’d already tried
it. It wouldn’t even turn on.
“Might not be EMP. It might be
something we don’t know about. Alien tech,” Gideon murmured, sounding
distracted.
“We’re almost there,” Theo said,
interrupting. He didn’t want to think about dead electronics. Ivy was home
alone. She was only fourteen.
God, please let her be okay,
he prayed. He
drove onto the lawn under the big oak, hoping to hide the car in the dark and shrubbery.
When he turned off the ignition, he heard nothing except the tick-ticking of
the engine cooling off. He stared out the windshield. The house was intact.
There were no lights, of course, but nothing here seemed as damaged as the
houses they’d passed.
Maybe living at the end of a rural road saved her.
Maybe they missed this place.
He was afraid to hope. He could hardly
believe they’d managed to drive without anyone seeing them.
“I don’t see anything,” Gideon
said. He reached for the door handle.
“Wait!” Bea stopped him.
He looked at her, face tight. “I’ve
got the gun. It’s my turn to take point.”
She put her hand on his arm. “Be
careful.”
“I will,” he said, and slipped into
the dark.
Theo opened his door. Bea looked at
him worriedly.
“I’m just going to stand outside.”
She nodded and looked away, back
toward where Gideon disappeared. When he came walking back a few minutes later,
Theo breathed a sigh of relief.
“Looks clear,” Gideon said,
reholstering his weapon. “No tracks, no damage.”
“Come on,” Theo said to Bea. “We
should get inside.”
“Where’s Ivy?” she asked, sliding
out of the seat.
Theo frowned. “Hopefully hiding
inside.” He looked at Gideon. “We can’t stay here.”
“I know,” his friend said, scanning
the trees. The breeze carried the faintest scent of crushed vegetation. “We
need to go find Ella, anyway.”
Theo nodded, glad Gideon
understood. He headed for the house.
****
Bea followed Theo across the yard,
wishing she’d been able to see his home under better circumstances. She was so
tired from work, and the dark was starting to make her feel paranoid.
Not
that you don’t have a lot to be paranoid about,
she mused distractedly,
thinking about the alien creatures they’d seen. She put a hand on Theo’s
shoulder, wanting to feel someone human. He tensed for a moment, then relaxed.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, patting
her hand.
She shrugged, but didn’t reply. It
was nice of him to say that, but the reality was that nothing was okay. Not
anymore. She knew the two men had been up all night, and were probably even
more exhausted than she was, but they didn’t show it. They moved with
economical precision over the uneven ground, while she had to catch herself
from stumbling a half-dozen times.
Because
they’re cops, and that’s what cops do
, she mused, stumbling again. Theo
caught her, like he had the last time. And the time before. If she hadn’t been
trapped in the elevator with them—
No. Don’t
think about it.
She knew she wouldn’t be alive now if she hadn’t been with
Theo and Gideon when this all happened.
When they reached the front porch,
Theo slowly walked across the painted floorboards, his shoulders tense. They
didn’t creak. Bea breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the door. He
unlocked it and eased it open. Gideon went in first, gun in his hand again.
They followed him, stepping
silently into the living room. She looked around, but couldn’t see much without
any light. The curtains on the windows kept even the little bit of moonlight
falling across the front yard at bay. She would have liked to see his home in
the daylight, but she supposed that would never happen now.
“She’s probably downstairs,” Theo
said quietly. “She knows to go somewhere safe when a storm comes.”
“This was a hell of a lot more than
a storm,” Gideon muttered.
Bea agreed. She followed them
across the room to the small hall. Beyond the threshold, she could just make
out a kitchen. The table had three chairs. She frowned, squinting. It looked
like another chair was lying on the floor. She shook her head.
Not
important, Bea.
The door near the stairs was closed. That must be the way
down to the basement. The wallpaper was probably flowers or something, but
right now it just looked like giant bugs on the walls. She grimaced.
Theo opened the door to the
basement while she was staring off at the kitchen. When she heard the doorknob
rattle, she whipped her head back to watch, but nothing happened.
No giant insects, thank God.
He started
down the stairs, but Gideon stopped him, handing him his gun.
Theo gripped it for a moment,
looking at Gideon with a strange expression on his face, and then started back
down. Bea wished she could see him better. Right now, the two men were nothing
more than shadows. She hung back a little as they went down, straining to hear
if anything was coming from the yard. All she heard was the wind. Finally, she
crept down the stairs, hurrying a little to catch up. The basement smelled like
clothes detergent.
“The door’s locked,” Theo said when
she got there.
Bea couldn’t see what he was talking
about—the dark was too thick. She moved a little closer. He must’ve handed the
gun back to Gideon because she felt Theo bring his arms up. She was close
enough now to hear him breathe.
A knock in the inky black made her
jump, heart in her throat.
“Easy, Bea, it’s just Theo. He’s
using a code he taught Ivy,” Gideon said, putting a hand on her shoulder.
“Paranoid much?” she muttered.
Gideon chuckled. “Well, it’s come
in handy tonight.”
Ignoring their conversation, Theo
rapped out knocks in a complicated pattern that meant nothing to Bea, but must’ve
meant something to whomever was in the small room. The door flew open.
“Uncle Theo,” a girl cried.