Abby was on the bed, her mouth gaping, her hands on either side of her head as she watched the thing slithering along. It had broken the window; glass littered the floor around it. “Oh,” Abby moaned.
I didn’t know what to do, how to react. Then that thing reached our mother. Images of what had happened to the man on the street flooded my mind. There was no way I was going to allow that to happen to her. I leapt forward, falling to my knees as I grabbed a piece of glass from the floor. I ignored the pain that sliced through my palms and knees as the glass bit sharply into them. Adrenaline propelled me as I lifted the glass over my head and drove downward with the full force of my weight.
Blood exploded over me, but I instinctively knew it was not that things blood. It pulsed out of the tentacle in spraying waves that coated me, and the walls. I thought it was Abby’s screams filling the room; it took me a moment to realize it was actually the thing that was screaming. It screeched as it jerked and flopped over the floor, twisting and withering violently as it reared up high before slamming down again. I fell back, clamoring to get out of the way, awkwardly scrambling to my feet as it whipped toward me. It slammed into my back, knocking me to my hands and knees with a blow hard enough to knock the air from my lungs. Choking, gasping for breath, I struggled to crawl away as it came at me again. The end of the tentacle opened wide, revealing piercing, needlelike teeth that had been crammed into a hideous, six inch wide mouth.
My eyes widened in disgust, a gurgling cry of alarm tore from me. I was shaking, coated in sweat and blood. My heart was hammering so violently I was half afraid I was going to have a heart attack. I was frantic with terror. I may not be frozen like the others, but that thing was still completely capable of killing me, even if I had wounded it. Its howling cries grew louder as it darted at me, slicing across my cheek, spilling more of my blood. Suddenly it screams weren’t all about agony, but also excitement and hunger as it tasted me.
I dodged its attack as it searched for the source of the fresh blood it had spilled. I scrambled away, crab crawling rapidly backwards as it lunged at me again. This time I wasn’t fast enough. This time it was on me.
It wrapped swiftly around my middle, winding rapidly toward my throat with the speed of a cobra. I clawed at it, trying to grasp it as it neared my throat with deadly velocity. “No, no, no,” I found myself rapidly and uselessly panting out the word, even as the thing continued to ensnare me.
“Bethany!” Abby screamed.
Then it was there, in front of my face, floating before my wide, terrified eyes. Those thousands of needlelike teeth clicked as they rippled over like dandelions blowing in a summer wind. Though it had no discernible eyes I knew it was staring at me, judging me, sizing me up; tormenting me before it delivered its killing blow.
The thing screamed suddenly, rearing back. I recoiled, wincing as I waited for the death blow to be delivered, but it did not come. I winced as it constricted painfully upon me, nearly cracking my ribs with its intense pressure. The thing dropped suddenly, hissing and screaming as it plummeted out of my line of vision. I inhaled sharply, finally able to draw a full breath as its crushing embrace on my lungs eased.
My gaze found Abby across the way. My younger, smaller sister was sitting over the creature. The piece of glass within her hands had been driven through my original wound, severing the thing in half. She was staring at me in wide eyed horror; blood smeared her delicate, fair cheeks. Gratitude filled me; I pulled the limp thing away from me, dropping it onto the floor as I rose shakily to my feet. There was far more strength and courage in Abby than I had realized.
I had only a moment of relief though as all of the lights suddenly stopped flashing and became focused solely upon our house. The beams blazed brightly, lighting the room far more than even the sun would. I lifted my hand, attempting to block the blinding light from my burning eyes. “Abby, get away from the window,” I commanded softly.
“Bethany?”
“Get away from the window!” I ordered more fiercely, my teeth clenching tight as my body thrummed with a sense of impending doom.
Abby crawled toward me; carefully avoiding the thing sprawled on the floor. “Hurry Abby, hurry!” I urged.
She was almost to me when another window shattered. Glass sprayed inward, showering the room with its sharp slivers. It cut across my arms, sliced my flesh, and one imbedded deeply in my raised right forearm. A hiss of pain escaped me; I grabbed hold of the shard and tore it from my skin. Blood surged forth but I had no time to try and staunch the flow, or to tend to the wound. Abby was curled into the fetal position, her hands wrapped protectively around her head. Her screams were piercing as they echoed throughout the room.
We had to get out of here. Now.
I tossed the glass aside as I ran toward Abby. “Get up Abby! Get up!” I grabbed hold of her shoulders, dragging her toward me. “Abby get up!”
She was still screaming as she stumbled to her feet. Her cheek had been cut, glass was in her hair, but thankfully she seemed to have weathered the exploding window better than I had. “Grab the plywood. Abby, grab the plywood!”
She was dazed; her eyes wide and confused. Shock was evident in her slack features and glazed eyes. The courage she had just recently displayed seemed to have vanished before this fresh onslaught of brutality. I thought maybe I should slap her, that is what they did in movies after all, but I felt the last thing Abby needed was any more physical trauma right now. “Abby please, you have to help me. I can’t do this alone.”
She was moving with me to the plywood when a burst of motion caught my attention. The window was full; there were at least twenty of those things there now. They moved and dodged and darted as gracefully as bees as they swarmed toward us. Bile surged up my throat, panic hammered through me. They were coming for us. All of us.
“Move!” I cried.
I grabbed hold of the plywood, lifting my mom swiftly off the floor. Abby grabbed the other end, sobs escaping her as she caught sight of the creatures rolling toward us. “Hurry Abby, hurry.” The tears streaking down her face cleansed some of the blood that had sprayed over her. “Go,” I urged. “Please go.”
Abby was nodding, choking on her sobs as she moved swiftly toward the door. My arms were already aching from the weight of the plywood, and our mother. We couldn’t move fast enough, couldn’t get out of this room in time. I found myself praying silently, desperate to run, desperate to move faster. Desperate to survive as all of my survival instincts kicked into high gear and the fight or flight response consumed me.
“Bethany,” Abby whispered horror evident in her voice.
She was near the door, almost completely out of it, but I was not close enough. I wasn’t nearly close enough. And Abby could see those things. She knew where they were, I didn’t. “I’m sorry,” I breathed.
She opened her mouth to say something but I shoved forward, thrusting the plywood, and our mother, forcefully at her. Abby cried out in surprise, staggering into the hall before she disappeared beneath the weight of the plywood, and our mother’s frozen form. I dove forward, thrusting myself through the door, rolling as I dodged the snapping tentacles I knew were close on my heels.
I scrambled over top of the plywood, not feeling at all sorry when I knocked my immobile mother out of the way. I was pretty sure she would forgive me, and understand. I lunged forward, grabbing the bottom of the bedroom door as one of those things darted at me with deadly intent. I ripped the door toward me, slamming it shut with a resounding thud that echoed throughout the house.
I rolled back, my rapid pants loud in my ears as I tried to catch my breath. One of the things slammed into the door, rattling it in its frame. The old, heavy wood held up beneath the onslaught. For now, anyway. “Abby get up! Abby up, up!”
Abby was trying to get to her feet, but she struggled beneath the weight of the plywood lying half on top of her. I helped to pull it off her. The things were banging against the door with more urgency now. It would not be long b
efore they broke through it. I threw the plywood down and began to awkwardly roll our mom back onto it.
“Bethany,” Abby whispered. “Bethany, we have to go.”
“I know, I know,” I replied impatiently as I finally managed to shove my mom haphazardly onto the wood. Light suddenly filled the upper hallway. I lifted my head slowly, the hair on the nape of my neck standing on end as dread filled me. The window at the end of the hall was now ablaze, the room behind me had become eerily silent. “Oh.”
Abby grasped hold of my arm, her grip bruising and painful. “Bethy.”
I rose slowly, my heart hammering, my whole body trembling with terror. “Get the other end of the plywood Abby.”
“Bethy…”
“Now Abby, get it now!”
She released me slowly and crawled to the other end of the board. It was not the light blazing in on us that unnerved me most, but the sudden, ensuing, horrendous quiet. The only sound was the soft scrape of Abby’s shoe against the floor as she bent to pick up the other side.
They were playing with us, toying with us, and they were enjoying every minute of it. For the first time I became certain that we would not escape this, that we would not make it of this house. I gripped the plywood tightly ignoring the bite the weight of it caused my wounded palms. I kicked aside the broken bits of the table I had knocked over earlier. There may be no chance that we were going to escape this, but I was not going to give up easily. They were going to get one hell of a fight out of me.
“Go Abby.” Her dark eyes were wide and terrified as she stared at me with a trembling bottom lip. “Move.”
Abby stared at the window in wide eyed horror, but she began to move slowly down the hall toward the stairs. There was no sound, no movement as she turned into the stairwell, making her way backwards down the steps. She watched me the entire time, tears brimming in her gaze, but she did not complain, she did not break down, and she did not cry. She reached the bottom of the stairs and turned the corner. Light was still blazing through the windows, illuminating our way as we shuffled through the downstairs.
“What are they doing?” Abby asked softly. I shook my head; I had no answer for that. There was none. “They’re going to kill us.”
I agreed. I just wasn’t going to tell her that. We were almost to the kitchen when the backdoor flew open. I accidently slammed the board into Abby, nearly knocking her over, as she stopped abruptly. My heart lurched in my chest, my throat went instantly dry. I was certain that this was the end, we were going to die. I wanted to grab Abby, wanted to throw her behind me, wanted to keep her safe for as long as possible but I couldn’t reach her with the plywood between us.
And then someone stepped into the kitchen. I blinked rapidly, trying to get my eyes to focus on the person that was highlighted by the harsh wave of light. Abby was shaking so hard that the board was rattling. Was it one of the aliens? Had they actually come down in order to start retrieving us? “Abby?”
“Aiden?” she croaked. My heart lurched; my whole body sagged with relief. “Aiden?”
He stepped further into the room, coming into better view. “Mom?” he whispered.
“You shouldn’t have come Aiden,” I breathed. Heartbreak and horror filled me as I realized that he was now trapped with us.
“Bethany…”
“You shouldn’t have come Aiden,” I repeated fighting hard to get the words out around the lump of tears clogging my throat.
“I had to.”
“We’re going to die.”
I had feared that it might be true, but saying the words aloud made it a completely devastating reality. It was true. The three of us would not make it out of this house alive. “Bethy…”
My gaze slid slowly past Aiden, my heart plummeted even further as Bret stepped into the room behind him. “Oh Bret,” I whispered, despair filling me. Not Bret too, I didn’t think I could handle it. He was a part of our family; he was a part of me. He was Aiden’s best friend, Abby’s second brother, and he was here because he loved me unconditionally, and with everything he had. He was going to die because of me, and I had kissed another man just an hour ago. I had never hated myself more. “You shouldn’t have come.”
He frowned at me, his head tilting to the side. Like Aiden and I, he was fair, but his hair was a much darker blond than ours. “I had to,” he said simply. And it was that simple for him. I felt like a horrible person, guilt churned within me, self hatred momentarily swamped me. I was suddenly grateful that I didn’t have much longer to despise myself.
“Hurry,” Aiden urged.
I didn’t say it didn’t matter if we hurried or not. I’d already expressed my opinion on this whole situation. I didn’t need to bring them down any further with my pessimism. And I personally didn’t want to hear the words again, even if I was the one that had uttered them first. “What is going on?” Bret asked softly, his gaze darting toward the well lit front of the house.
“We pissed them off,” I muttered. “And now they’re toying with us.”
Aiden came forward, gently nudging Abby aside as he grabbed the plywood. His gaze locked on our mother, sadness filled his eyes as his head tilted slightly to the side. “Mom,” he murmured. The heartache and misery in his voice was almost more than I could bear.
“Aiden please, we have to move. Abby by the door there are some bags of food, you need to grab them.” I didn’t think we would make it far, but we would need food if we did, and we had to do something other than stand here. I had to think about something other than our impending demise.
“Why are you covered in blood?” Aiden demanded sharply.
I shook my head, not wanting to get into all of the gory details right now. There was no need. If Aiden hadn’t seen those awful sucking tentacles yet, I was pretty sure he was about to. “Go Abby, please,” I pleaded softly.
She nodded as she released the plywood to Aiden. His gaze was back on our mom, his eyes swamped with misery. Abby grabbed the bags by the door; she turned expectantly back to us. Bret came to me, but thankfully I could not release the plywood to hug him, I could barely stand the small kiss he dropped on my cheek. It just made me feel even more disloyal and hideous.
He was so trusting, so good and honest and wonderful. I had known for a few years how he’d felt about me, but up until this year I had warded off his advances. I loved him, deeply, but I’d never been sure if it was as anything more than a friend. Four months ago I finally relented to his pursuit. I’d reasoned that the only way I could ever know how I truly felt about him was to stop pushing him away, and treating him like a brother. Perhaps I could fall in love with him then.
Things were good between us, sweet and caring, and wonderful. We never fought, never even bickered. But our relationship did not possess any of the passion, or rightness, that I felt with Cade. It was rare when we kissed, and I still found it awkward and uncomfortable. Bret was patient with me, certain that I would eventually come to feel more for him, and it was impossible not to put faith in anything that Bret said. Where Cade was an enigma, always had been, and always would be, Bret was an open book of honesty, hope, and love.
They were completely different people, and I was actually rather glad I was not going to live long enough to have to choose between them. Bret’s hand lingered on my cheek, brushing aside some of the drying blood that clung to me and the wound the thing had caused. “Are you ok?”
“No,” I answered honestly. “I am not ok. We need to get the hell out of here, now.”
“Yes.” He grasped hold of the plywood, his hand brushing briefly against mine. He was bigger than Cade, taller and broader. He was exceptionally handsome in a bright, unguarded way that was the exact opposite of Cade’s darkness. Bret had been the quarterback on the football team, the star athlete. He could have had a full ride to any college he wanted but that hope had been squashed by the aliens. People no longer traveled anywhere, never mind to college in order to better themselves. The aliens did not want us smarter. They had
claimed that under their society everyone would be equal, and that there was no need for higher education. There would be no more starvation, no more illness and premature death. It had never surprised me that so many people had fallen for their lies, it was easy to believe in something when it was wanted badly enough.
Bret had been mister popularity, the golden boy that the girls had chased around, and yet, for some reason, he had wanted me. I should have been flattered by this; all of my friends had told me so. They had been jealous when he’d started asking me out. They had also been extremely incredulous, and angry, when I had continued to turn him down. They had not been any happier when I finally relented and said yes to him. They simply hadn’t understood how I felt about Bret; they still didn’t, and in all honesty, neither did I.
“Bethy.” I turned my head toward him, trying hard to keep my face impassive. “I’ll keep you safe.”
I winced involuntarily, mentally kicking myself even harder. If, by some miracle, we did survive this I was officially going to consider myself the worst human being ever. “We have to be quick, move through the woods, down the trail. We can lose them once we get into the thick areas.” Aiden’s tone was hopeful, but we all knew that was highly unlikely. They were airborne after all. “Abby, get the door.”
Abby glanced nervously at all of us, her hands tightened on the bag she held. Taking a deep breath she managed a firm nod before pulling the door swiftly open. Light flooded in, my heart leapt in my chest, but Abby was already rushing outside. I wanted to scream at her to wait, to come back, to not go out there, but we were no safer in here than we were out there.
“Stay close,” Bret hissed as we rushed out the door behind Abby.
I wanted to argue with him, wanted to tell him that I could take care of myself, but what was the point? I couldn’t take care of myself in this situation. No one could.