by Willow Rose
"Okay. Then spit it out, for cryin' out loud, Wayne. We're losing precious sleeping time here. And I really do like my sleep."
He nodded, took in a deep breath, then said, "All right, here it goes. They're coming. They'll be here tomorrow."
"Who is coming, Wayne? Who will be here tomorrow?"
He cleared his throat. "The Chinese."
"The what, now?"
"The Chinese. They're coming."
Mary stared at Wayne. The silence between them was uncomfortably long. Mary broke it. "What on Earth are you talking about?"
"The Chinese. They're invading us. Or they will be. Soon."
Mary took in a deep breath and wanted to speak, but the words got stuck in her throat. She tried again:
"What?"
"I know it's hard to grasp. I had to hear it a couple of times as well before I fully understood it. It's true, Mary. The Chinese are invading us and will be here tomorrow. I don't know what to do. That's why I am here."
She stared at him, her eyes scrutinizing his. Had he finally gone over the edge? She knew he had tendencies ever since that daughter of his had disappeared. Lydia had come to Mary for counseling, asking her what to do and, from what she’d told her, Mary sensed the man wasn't well. She had kept him in his function as sheriff so far because he had seemed to do well enough at work and make sensible decisions, not that there were many. She had kept a close eye on him, and so far, he had seemed to be doing okay. Had he finally totally lost it?
She leaned forward, folding her hands on the desk in front of her. "Listen, Wayne…"
"I know you don't believe me," he argued. "But it's true. You've got to warn people."
She sighed and closed her eyes for a few seconds, dreaming about her bed. "Listen, Wayne. We're all afraid of the future and what will happen and, yes, the Chinese can be scary to think about, but I think it's more of a financial issue. I hardly think they have any interest in coming here, let alone invading us."
Mary tried hard to sound like she took him seriously, but it didn't help. Wayne refused to calm down.
"No. No. You don’t understand," he continued. "They're coming. They really are. They'll invade us, this town."
"Are you talking about tourists or something?"
"No. No tourists. Soldiers. Thousands of soldiers."
"Why? Wayne, why on Earth would they come here of all places?"
"I don't know. I just know they will be here. Everywhere."
Mary looked at him with compassion. "How are things at home, Wayne? You feeling alone a lot? You getting enough sleep? Have you been drinking tonight?"
He shook his head. "No. No. I am not drunk. You have to listen, Mary. LISTEN." Wayne hit his clenched fist on her desk.
Mary jumped.
"Geez, Wayne."
"I'm sorry, Mary. But you have to listen to me."
"All right. Tell me this. How do you know they're coming?"
"You know how I know it."
Mary rolled her eyes. "Not the phone calls again."
"Yes, yes, the phone calls. They tell the truth, Mary, and you know it. How about the roof at the school, huh?"
"It was a coincidence, Wayne, that you could foresee that it would fall. I am grateful that you did and that you told me so we could get the kids out in time, but still. That doesn't mean you can somehow magically tell the future by those phone calls you keep claiming you're receiving. It's all in your head, Wayne. I’ve told you before. It's just the grief that is speaking."
Wayne grunted, annoyed. "You sound just like Lydia.”
"Well…I hate to be the one to say this, but if you had listened to her, then maybe she would still be your wife. There, I said it, Wayne. You're losing it, buddy. I am sorry; there is no Chinese invasion coming. It's just you and your vivid imagination spurred on by your grief, grief over losing your child. I am sorry that you did, but you have to move on. You're stuck."
Wayne grunted and rose to his feet. "I don't want to hear any more."
He put on his hat. Mary got up as well.
"Great, then we can go to bed. Tomorrow, you'll see that everything is fine. No Chinese, no invasion, no soldiers marching the streets. And everything will go back to normal, Wayne. You just have to let her go. She's gone and not coming back. She's dead, Wayne. Do yourself and the rest of us a favor. Let Arlene go."
Wayne stopped and looked into Mary's eyes. He pointed a finger at her. The gesture was so aggressive, she stepped backward, startled.
"Don't you ever mention my daughter again, you hear me? She's alive. She is alive."
Mary sighed as Wayne stormed for the door. She followed him and yelled,
"Go home, Wayne. Get some sleep. I’m sure tomorrow things will look much clearer."
She watched Wayne as he stumbled down the stairs and ran towards his car, yelling with the voice of a madman, "Come tomorrow, you'll see that I was right. Y'all will see!"
She sighed and closed the door, writing a mental note to spend some time tomorrow figuring out what the procedure was for firing a sheriff who was unfit to do the job.
Part Two
Told you so
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ridge Manor, Florida
Pete Williams looked up at the sky. The drone was hovering perfectly over his head, its small propellers spinning rapidly, whirring like their life depended on it. He moved it to the right, using his cell phone to control it, then to the left. He could see everything the camera recorded on the screen. As the drone flew above his head, he could see himself.
It was a birthday gift from his mother, something he had wanted for a very long time, even though she would never have given it to him had she known the real reason he wanted it so badly.
Being fifteen years old, Pete was a curious boy and, lately, his curiosity had evolved around a girl named Elizabeth Gardner, who lived two houses down from him. She was new at the school and had moved to the area in the spring.
And, best of all, she liked to hang out by the pool in her backyard wearing nothing but a bikini.
Ever since his birthday two weeks ago, Pete had used the drone to spy on her and her friends. He would watch them from the camera and then record video of them that he uploaded to his laptop, where he would watch it over and over again in his bedroom at night when his mom was sound asleep.
Yesterday, the drone had accidentally flown into a treetop at Elizabeth's house and Pete had to leave it there for the night before he could sneak out early this morning and get it back. Now, he was testing it to see if it still worked and everything functioned the way it was supposed to.
It seemed to.
"Pete! Stop playing with that thing and come eat your breakfast," his mother yelled from inside the house.
It was still only six o'clock and the sun had just risen, but she had to go to work at the hardware store and be there at seven, leaving Pete on his own for most of the day. Well, not completely on his own, ‘cause Chase who lived three blocks down usually rode his bike up to him and helped him spy on the girls. Pete had made him promise on his mother's grave that he would never tell anyone.
"PETE!"
"Coming!" he yelled back.
Pete sent the drone to the end of the yard, then stopped it before it reached the swamps and kept it still. There was a small pond down there, where he every now and then spotted a gator and he wanted to check if it was there. His mother had forbidden him to go down there anymore since a kid from Bushnell, a town not far from there, had lost his arm to one a couple of months ago.
His mother was still yelling from inside the house, but Pete wasn't in a hurry. Why she insisted on him always eating breakfast with her before she left for work was beyond him. He wasn't someone who usually slept in, but still, it was summer break.
"PETE!"
"I said I was coming."
The drone hovered over the pond and Pete looked at his screen. "Where are you my little gator? Come out, come out wherever you are."
"PETE!!"
Pete stared at the screen when he spotted something emerging from the swamps. He soon realized it wasn't as much a something as it was someone, or rather a lot of someones.
"Mooom?" he yelled and turned to run. "MOOOOOM??!!
Pete had fifteen seconds left to live. His mother, twenty-five.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ridge Manor, Florida
They came from the south. They came from the north. They came from the east and they came from the west. That was what people would say afterwards. Everyone would have their take on it and each story was different. Fact was, no one knew where they came from, only that they were suddenly everywhere.
At six-thirty on this Tuesday morning, thousands of soldiers in green uniforms and stern looks were suddenly marching onto Treiman Boulevard, while all the citizens of Ridge Manor could do was watch from their houses, or from inside the bagel shop, or from the Smokehouse Grill, where Miss Trudy had stopped pouring coffee and stood by the window, staring at the scene. Some even watched from inside their cars that weren't going anywhere anymore since all the roads were blocked with the marching soldiers.
People watched it from their windows, a few pulled their curtains in terror, while others hurried inside and locked the front door, hearts pounding in their chests, yelling at their loved ones that it has finally happened. What we feared the most has happened.
But most of them just watched, wondering when this thing would be over so they could get back to work.
"It must be a joke," Tim from the auto shop murmured. He had just gotten his morning bagel and stood outside the store.
"Like an early Halloween prank?" Nick asked.
Tim shrugged and chewed on his bagel. The auto shop was on the other side of the road and it didn't look like they would be able to cross the road anytime soon. Soldiers kept marching, their boots stomping, for as far as they could see. He grabbed his cell phone with the intention of streaming live for Facebook, but he couldn't open the app. There was no Internet connection, it said.
"Maybe it's some gay thing," Nick said. He sipped his coffee, also from the bagel shop. Nick wasn't much of a morning person and usually waited to eat till later in the day. But he was no good without his coffee.
Tim chuckled. "Don't they usually dress up in lots of colors? Don't they have music and happy faces?"
"Well you never know with 'em types, now do ya'? Maybe it's like the Chinese New Year or somethin' and all the Chinese are celebrating."
"Didn't think we had that many Chinese 'round here," Tim said. “Come to think of it, I don't believe we have even one."
"How about Winnie Lee from the Chinese place?"
"Ha. She's Vietnamese. I asked her once why she didn't make her own food, but she said redneck Ridge Manor wasn't exactly ready for Vietnamese food yet."
It wasn't until Mrs. Kilcommons, the town's beloved sixth-grade teacher walked into the street and asked the soldiers what on Earth they thought they were doing here, scaring people like this, stopping traffic and making them all late for work, if it was some sort of weird protest or demonstration of sorts, that people in town fully understood the seriousness of the situation.
The soldiers didn't stop their endless marching when they heard Mrs. Kilcommons yell, except for one, who, without even getting out of the line, lifted his rifle and shot her, right there on the spot.
That was when panic erupted.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ridge Manor, Florida
"Honey, it will be all right."
Irene touched his hand gently across the counter. Josh sighed and sipped his coffee. They were up a little earlier than usual this morning. He had to be in Orlando to finalize the deal with HD Supply and, with the traffic, he wouldn't take any risks. Today was supposed to be a good day, but he couldn't really enjoy it, couldn't be really happy.
All because of her.
"I’m serious, Josh," Irene continued. "You can't let this get to you. It's just your sister."
"I know. I know. I just…well seeing her yesterday just brought up so much in me, you know? And I fear for what will happen when Mom and Dad come back from the Bahamas."
"Speaking of," Irene said. "I didn't hear from your mother all day yesterday."
He shrugged and ate his scrambled eggs. Marley was twirling as usual in the living room, wearing her pink tutu skirt.
"So what?"
"It's probably nothing."
"I'm sure it is."
Irene put the pan in the sink and turned on the faucet. The water poured down and she was about to start cleaning the pan when she turned the faucet off again.
"It's just…"
"Oh, boy…I had a feeling we weren't done," he said.
She turned and looked him and wiped her hands on the towel. "Usually, your mother calls every day. As annoying as it is, I’m worried."
Josh slurped his coffee. Irene cringed. She hated when he did that. He noticed and felt a rush of guilt.
"They're on vacation. She's probably just having too much fun to think about us here at home," he said.
"Yeah, I guess you're right. It was just…well, there was this thing on TV this morning when I first came down to cook your breakfast. I turned on the News as I always do, you know, to hear about traffic and stuff, and they had this story about the Bahamas." Irene paused. "Nah, it's probably nothing."
"What thing?"
"Well, apparently, no planes have been able to land in the Bahamas since last night. They’ve all been sent back. And no planes have left the islands. They said they don't know why, but lots of people are angry because they were going on vacation and now they're not."
Josh put his cup down on the counter. He lifted both eyebrows. "That sounds strange. Why are you just telling me this?"
"I don't know. I just…well you were so worried about the whole sister thing, I didn't want to give you more to worry about. It might be nothing. Those journalists always make a big deal out of nothing, you know that. Maybe the airport lost power in a thunderstorm or something. I’m sure everything will be back to normal today."
"Well, now I’m worried," Josh said, as he grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. "It's almost six-thirty. I can get the updates just before I leave. Maybe they have news."
He pressed the button on the remote to turn on the flat screen TV on the wall in the kitchen but the screen remained black.
"What the heck?" He pressed in the number thirteen, where the local twenty-four hours news channel usually was but received nothing.
"Try another channel," Irene said.
But nothing happened.
"That's strange."
"Maybe Spectrum is down," she said and grabbed her phone. "Yup. No Internet or service either. Guess they screwed up again."
"That's what you get for having the same provider for everything," Josh said.
"Wait. The clock turned off on the stove and there’s no light in the fridge either." Irene sighed. "Guess it's another power outage."
"Guess so," Josh said.
They were so used to those. It almost always happened during the afternoon thunderstorms, but it could happen at any time of day. "It'll be back eventually," he said as he grabbed his briefcase and got up. "I'll listen to the news on the radio on the way to Orlando." He leaned over and kissed his wife.
"Love you," she said and Josh thought he could detect a slight shiver to her voice, but took no further notice of it.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ridge Manor, Florida
Josh didn't make it very far before he realized something was really off. As soon as he left his driveway, he realized the radio in his car didn't work. There was nothing but static, so he turned it off and looked at his cell phone.
Still no signal.
He threw the phone in the passenger seat and drove down the street. A neighbor came running out of his house, waving at Josh, and he waved back. A lady walking her dog - no make that running with her dog - waved eagerly as well and Josh waved back.
"People are so friendly this morning," he mumbled.
Feeling uplifted, or at least forcing himself to, Josh started to hum. If the radio wouldn't play, he could make his own music.
"Mmmm-mmmm-mmmmm," he sang.
He didn't see the guy before he ran into him with his car. Josh hit the brakes and knocked his head against the wheel.
"What the he…?"
He looked up and saw George the plumber. What was he doing running around in the middle of the street?
"Look where you're walking," Josh yelled from inside the car.
Josh usually never yelled at people unless he was sitting inside a car where no one could hear him. Josh was a man who avoided confrontation at all costs and didn't like to upset people. He felt bad after yelling at George, even though he hadn't heard it.
George didn't even look at him. He stumbled on and ran onto the sidewalk, then disappeared into a yard.
"That's odd," Josh said. "George lives on the other side of town. Why is he running around here?"
Maybe he had some plumbing job out here.
Josh felt his forehead. Great. There was a bump. He looked at it in the mirror. And a bruise too.
"Wonderful. Now I’m going to look like I’ve been in some fight when signing the deal. Real awesome. Why do you hate me so much, world? Why?"
Josh drove on with a deep sigh. Dang it, George.
He reached the end of Gardenia Way, then came to a halt at the four-way-stop. And that was when he saw it. Josh leaned forward, wondering if he was still dreaming and maybe never had gotten up that morning.
"What in the world is going on here?"
Never in his life had he seen anything like this. The line of soldiers marching was literally as long as the eye could see. Meanwhile, some people were running away screaming, others were just standing there, staring at them with the result that they were being pushed or knocked down. Josh stopped breathing. It was almost too unreal to understand.