After The End

by Jamie Campbell

  My whole body freezes as the animals outside go quiet. They whimper before their feet run across the porch and disappear off the edge. They’ve gone, completely forgetting about us.

  That can’t be good.

  “I’m going to have a quick look out the window,” Garlind says under his breath. “Get ready to move if we have to run.”

  My breath hitches in my throat and chokes me. I don’t reply, just watch Garlind as he sidles over to the window and lifts the edge of the curtain to see outside.

  I try to imagine what he’s seeing by the expression on his face. His lips are clamped shut, his eyes darting and focused as he concentrates on what is outside. There are lines on his forehead from him frowning.

  He returns, just as my nerves reach their snapping point. I’m desperate to know what he saw. “There are a bunch of them. Marching down the street. They might pass by without coming down here at all.”

  “We should move to the back door, just in case,” I reply.

  He agrees. Without the animals constantly pounding on the door, it’s far easier to leave it. The hinges will hold without us pressing against the wood.

  We crouch over so we can’t be seen through the windows and creep through the living room and kitchen to reach the back door. Only five minutes ago I thought there couldn’t be anything scarier than the mutant animals trying to attack us. The aliens have reminded me once again that they are far more horrifying than anything we can find on earth.

  The safety of the kitchen only lasts a few moments before there is a noise from the front porch. The door we were standing in front of only seconds before is pushed open with such force that it bangs against the wall and makes the whole house shudder.

  We don’t have any time to react before the confident footsteps of the alien steps into the house.

  My blood runs cold.

  There is no time to escape.

  Chapter 9

  Garlind and I share the same panicked look. We know we’re done for. The alien is going to find us in a few moments and destroy us in no time.

  The only thing worse than being obliterated is becoming one of their mindless slaves. I’ve seen how they can control humans and I don’t want to think about what happens to the people they have taken captive.

  I’m not going to let it happen to us.

  No freaking way.

  I lunge for the pantry and search for anything that can be used as a weapon. My hands clasp around a broom handle and I hold it tightly until my knuckles are white.

  At the same time, Garlind picks up one of the chairs from the small dining table and wields it in front of himself like it is a sword.

  We’ve seen a dead alien before. We know they can be killed. We also know how they can be fallen. All we have to do is stab it where it’s most vulnerable.

  Simple.

  Not simple at all.

  I try to steady my shaking hands as I wait. The alien will find us in mere seconds and then it will be all on. We’ll fight him for our lives and we have to win. There is no losing option here. If we lose, we die. It’s either the alien or us.

  It has to be us that survives this.

  Everything goes super quiet as the drumming of my heart beats in my ears. I can feel every breath as the air is dragged into my lungs and then expelled again. Time seems to slow.

  The alien appears at the kitchen doorway. It registers our presence at the same time as we see it. I’ve never seen one this close before. I’ve never looked into their eyes and wondered what was going on behind those black pupils.

  There is recognition there. The alien is actively thinking, processing, scheming. They aren’t just mindless drones, I’m certain of that now. They have thoughts, ideas. Maybe they aren’t so different from us in many ways.

  None of that means I won’t kill it.

  The major difference between us is that I won’t relish in this killing. I’m defending myself and our planet. The alien is just committing genocide against the human race.

  They started this war, not us. They sent a meteorite hurling toward earth just to take our planet from us. They deserve everything they get.

  Garlind and I move at the same time. He raises the chair as I raise my broom. They seem like such flimsy weapons against such an enormous and well-protected beast.

  We lunge for the alien as it leaps for us. We meet in the middle in a tangle of limbs and weapons. I focus in on the armpit and ready my broom to take aim. I just need one good shot.

  “Get ready, Maisy,” Garlind yells. We didn’t have time to discuss a plan of attack. I have to rely on luck to know what he means and intends to do.

  His chair isn’t going to be able to stab the alien. I’m going to have to do it. He’s realized this too.

  My palms slip on the broom handle. I don’t have time to wipe off the sweat. Every second counts right now and the alien isn’t hesitating so we can’t either.

  The alien reaches for the weapon at his side. It’s a gun made from something like metal. It shines but not in a way I’ve ever seen before. Garlind bangs the chair legs against the alien’s arm to stop him. He barely reacts from the impact.

  His movement opens up his armpit and gives me a clear shot. I plunge the pointy end of the broomstick into his side. It hits his skin and then recoils backwards. I haven’t used enough force, even though I thought it was hard enough.

  “Its skin is too thick,” I yell in a panic. I don’t care if the alien understands English. He doesn’t know that we know their weak spot. At least, I thought we knew about their Achille’s Heel.

  “Keep trying. You can do this,” Garlind replies.

  He’s struggling to keep the chair between him and the alien. If I don’t kill him within the next few seconds, the wooden seat is going to collapse and leave him open for a full attack.

  If the alien would just. Keep. Still.

  I line up the broom again and plunge it toward the alien. I manage to stab him but miss the mark. It’s like trying to pin a fly that is constantly buzzing around. Every time I think I’ve got the right spot, he moves again and I lose my moment of opportunity.

  “Maisy!” Garlind screams.

  I have to block out everything else and focus. I can’t let the alien win. This is not how our lives are going to end. Not today and not in this way.

  The broom is thrust backwards as I try to block everything out and stare at the spot I must hit. The alien is making a hissing noise, so loudly it’s overwhelming. If this is how he speaks, our species are never going to get along.

  Focus.

  I run out of time as Garlind’s chair snaps into a dozen pieces. The alien makes a final lunge toward him and readies himself for the kill. There is no more room for hesitations.

  I plunge the broom handle into its armpit. The hiss is so loud I have to cover my ears to stop the endless torture to my ear drums. Even through my hands I can still hear the horrible sound. It’s like nails down a chalkboard, the screech of an animal in distress, and metal grinding against metal all at the same time.

  I stagger backwards as I try to get away from the noise. Garlind is on the floor, covering his own ears from the terrible sound. The alien takes a few steps backward as he grapples to hold onto the doorframe. He pulls it away from the wall as he crumples to the ground.

  The alien writhes on the floor with the broom still sticking out of his body. It claws at the air, trying to save himself from imminent death.

  In a way, I feel sorry for it. The alien obviously feels pain like we do. What if it can also feel other emotions, like betrayal or sadness? I know it’s the enemy but I haven’t got a cold heart. I can empathize with this strange being from another planet.

  It stills on the carpeted floor and the noise finally stops. The alien is dead. Right at this moment, we’ve won. I just wish I didn’t feel so bad about it.

  Garlind gets to his feet and hurries toward me. His gaze slides all over my body. “Are you hurt in any way? Are you okay?”

  I nod
because I don’t trust myself to speak right now. I can’t feel triumph in this death. I will never feel good about ending someone else’s life, no matter what the circumstances.

  My attention is torn from the dead alien to Garlind. “Are you okay?” I can already see a few scratches and bruises on his arms. I hope they are the extent of his injuries.

  “Yeah, fine. Just…shaken.”

  “Me too.”

  We go to embrace but stop as a noise at the front of the house sounds. It can only be footsteps coming up the porch. Either the animals are back or the alien’s friends have come to find him. With the amount of noise he made while dying, it wouldn’t surprise me if every alien in a ten-mile radius came running.

  Garlind puts a finger to his lips and then pulls me over to the pantry. It’s a teeny-tiny room with barely enough room for one person to stand in, let alone two. We crush ourselves together so we can close the door. If there was any food in here, we wouldn’t have been able to fit at all.

  The footsteps get louder as they approach. Through the slits in the pantry door we can just catch a glimpse of what is going on in the kitchen.

  There are several aliens that stand around the body of their fallen comrade. I can see a few more are also behind them in the living room. They are talking amongst themselves in the clicking way they do. None seem to show any emotion in their faces about losing one of their own.

  One points in different directions and others seem to follow his commands. It takes two aliens to lift and haul away their dead soldier. The others appear to spread out in different directions while the apparent leader looks around the room.

  I’m certain he’s going to find us. We killed one of them. Surely the punishment for that is a revenge kill? I know our army would react in that way if given the chance.

  My breaths are too loud but I can’t hold them back any longer. I let out the air slowly, praying it’s not enough to attract the alien’s attention.

  The smell is overbearing. The horrible stench wraps around me like a hot blanket. I want to vomit. I have to clench my jaw tightly to stop myself. I try to think of anything else other than the smell so I can distract myself. It doesn’t really work.

  If that one alien never came into this house, none of this would have happened. We could have left by now, run away and nobody would be dead right now.

  The alien steps slowly around the kitchen, examining everything. He runs a hand across the bench and then smells his fingers. I don’t know what is so interesting about dirt and dust but it makes him pause for a few moments before continuing on.

  Can he smell us? Is that why he’s creeping about so slowly, just to torture us a little more? If he is, it’s working really effectively.

  Loud clicking comes from the living room and he takes off in that direction. The clicking doubles as more voices are added to the conversation.

  Garlind hold my hand in his, steady and stable. He’s giving me more comfort than he knows. It’s going to be okay. And even if it isn’t, we’ll go together. Even in death, we won’t be alone.

  The clicking continues and then footsteps pound out on the porch. I don’t believe they are leaving. Perhaps it’s a trick to draw us out. Surely, they know we must still be in the house. We can smell them so clearly, they have to catch our scent too.

  Do we smell as badly to them as they do to us?

  Maybe they don’t even have a sense of smell. That could be the only way they can live with one another in peace. I could never live alongside them, I know that for sure.

  We wait for a very long time before summoning up enough courage to move. Garlind goes first as he opens the pantry door just a smidge. When no aliens come running, he continues to venture out.

  He gestures for me to stay put where I am while he goes to investigate. That’s not going to happen. Maybe once, I would have let him. Not anymore. We’re partners now, we’re in it together and that means going everywhere even if it could be dangerous.

  I creep behind him, hoping not to step on a creaky floorboard or sneeze. We need to be so quiet now that we wouldn’t even wake a sleeping baby. Our lives depend on it.

  Garlind looks back and gives me a frown. He’s not pleased I didn’t follow his directions. He should be used to it by now. I’m not exactly the take-orders kind of girl anymore.

  The front door of the house is wide open. We stick to the living room wall and crouch down so we can’t be seen from outside. There is a trail of black blood from the kitchen out through the door from the dead alien. I wonder what they do with their dead. Do they bury them, or is there another ritual they perform?

  The terrible smell still lingers in the air but it isn’t as penetrating as it was before. The aliens must have left the area. I can only hope my nose is correct.

  We reach the large window at the front of the door and peer over the windowsill. Everything appears to be quiet outside. Both the animals and aliens have gone from the yard. That doesn’t mean we’re safe here, though. They could always return or be just beyond our line of sight.

  Garlind gestures to the kitchen again and creeps around the wall, still bent over. I follow him closely until we reach the back door. He unlocks it and swings it open just wide enough for us to get through.

  Once outside, the air is much fresher. There are only the slightest hints of the aliens’ aroma in the breeze. It’s clear enough for me to take a big, deep breath and refresh my senses. I didn’t realize how stifling the oxygen was inside until now.

  “What now?” I ask, although I suspect I know the answer already.

  “Now, we run,” Garlind replies.

  That’s what I was afraid of.

  Chapter 10

  Running is far from my favorite activity to do with Garlind. Yet somehow, it’s what we end up doing in some way each and every single day.

  This time, we are running through large fields of overgrown and destroyed crops. Many years ago, these would have been farming fields. Families would have toiled the soil and planted fresh crops with every season. This was an area for nourishment and taking care of the land.

  Now, it’s a wasteland. Anything planted almost two decades ago has died off and given the land over to weeds. Some are as tall as I am. We whip through the mass of greenery and hope there are no snakes or other mutant animals wishing to pursue us today.

  My whole body is slapped by leaves and vines as I rush past them. They sting where they come into contact with my bare flesh and tug at my hair. Once again I wish for a large machete that I can use to carve out a path.

  Garlind leads the way, copping more injuries than I am. He’s careful not to leave too much space between us, otherwise I would be slapped even more by the overgrown weeds.

  I’m too short to see where we’re actually going. All around me are green, swaying walls that shield the world surrounding us from my eyes. Garlind is just barely tall enough to see over them. I hope he’s got a better idea of where we’re headed than I do.

  We run for a seemingly endless amount of time. The scenery around us never changes. The foliage goes on forever and ever. My breaths coming in rasping gulps as I push myself further. I don’t want anybody to catch up with us. If we can just go one more mile, we might be safe.

  Another. Just another mile after that.

  Then another.

  I’m certain we’re running right across the country. How big were these farms? They must have grown enough to feed the entire nation.

  Maybe two nations.

  We run until we are completely spent. Garlind slows down to a jog and I am quick to welcome the change of pace. We come to a complete halt after another few torturous meters.

  I lean over and rest my hands on my knees so I don’t fall over. My lungs and leg muscles burn from exertion. Every part of me is on fire and in desperate need of more oxygen. I gulp in air and feel my lungs expanding with each one.

  My face has to be burning red, that’s how it feels with the heat. Garlind and I have done a lot of running sinc
e we first met but this has to be the longest marathon we’ve ever done. Just the thought of an army of aliens following us is enough to spur us further on.

  I flop onto the ground, not even caring if there are snakes around anymore. If they want to bite me, then they can go right ahead. As long as I don’t have to move, I really don’t care right now.

  Garlind lands beside me, equally as exhausted. “Do you think we’ve covered enough ground?”

  “No idea. Do you have any clue where we are?”

  He gives a half-shrug, not really committed to any kind of answer. “I’m pretty sure we have continued north for most of the way. I can’t see very far around us, though. It feels like we’re in the middle of nowhere.”

  “So we’re going to have keep going to find a place to stay,” I state, coming to terms with the fact. Some major rest is not in our immediate future, that’s for sure.

  “Yeah, I think so.” He looks just as sad as I do about it. “We might get lucky and come across a farm house. The famer had to live somewhere, right?”

  “I guess.”

  We sit here for a while longer. Not enough to really recover from the exhaustion, but enough to recharge so we can continue without keeling over and dying.

  When we set off, it’s at a brisk walk and not a run. I’m a little more wary of snakes now. I’m certain there are more than just us out here making the weeds rustle. As long as they keep to themselves, I’ll do the same thing.

  The sun dips low down into the horizon and then disappears completely. The moon offers us just enough light to walk by. We don’t dare stop for the night. There isn’t enough room to make a camp and I don’t like the thought of whatever else is out here having the opportunity to crawl over me while I sleep.

  It’s only marginally more difficult to navigate by moonlight. I can’t see any more than a foot around us anyway so I just keep following Garlind. I think I’ve memorized every part of his back now. I could identify him anywhere.