by Tracy Sharp
INTRUDERS
BY THE TIME YOU’RE SCARED. . .
It begins with the abductions. In a single night, thousands of small children vanish from their beds.
IT’S TOO LATE.
A day later, meteorites hit the Earth, releasing strange dust into the air.
THEY ARE HERE. . .
The dead rise, ravenous. The living, dragged underground by creatures out of nightmares.
AND THEY CAN SMELL YOUR BLOOD.
There is nowhere to run.
INTRUDERS
TRACY SHARP
By the time you’re scared, it’s too late.
Contents
INTRUDERS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Also by Tracy Sharp
Copyright
Chapter 1
The first sign that the world was ending was disturbing, but not alarming. It was insidious, because it was disguised as an everyday kind of horror. Something that, although terrible, had become almost commonplace in our world. Things like this happened every day, somewhere. All you had to do was watch the news to see evidence of horrible, but not shocking (not anymore) things people do to one another on a daily basis.
It started with the disappearances. Babies and children vanishing from their beds. First one, then another. And another. Until it did become alarming. By the time we knew something odd was happening, the invasion was well underway.
People were comfortable in the belief that we were safe. That everything would be all right. That the world would go on, continue as it always had, one donut shop paper cup of coffee at a time. We were smug and oblivious; a combination which made the invasion inevitable and rapid.
We were easy pickings.
But then, I doubt there would be much anyone could’ve done, anyway.
Our militaries were no match for them.
Nothing was.
* * *
One of the first to vanish was my niece, Jessica. She was two years old. Almost three. I was in the house when it happened because I lived with my sister, Kelly.
Which is why I was sitting at the police station right now, being questioned by the cops.
“Tell me again what happened that night, Zoe.” The cop was older. He had a kind face. Most would call him fatherly. He spoke to me in soft, gentle tones. “How did you get the shiner?”
I shrugged, which is what I’d done the last several times he asked me. “I was in a fight with some girl at the college. She spit at me. I hit her. She hit me back. End of story.”
“That sucks. You’ve had a rough couple of days.”
I shrugged. Nodded.
“Start from the beginning, Zoe. Okay?” His voice was so gentle. It made me uncomfortable.
So although I was tired and annoyed because I’d been sitting there for hours, his kindness was disarming. I pushed out a breath and started again. But I skipped the good parts.
“I’d just gotten home from work. Kelly asked me if I’d watch Jessica for a couple of hours so they could go out for a bite. He’d received a Christmas bonus from work, and wanted to celebrate.”
The cop, Detective Elliot Rayback, leaned forward, his hands slowly turning his Styrofoam cup on the table. “What time did they leave?”
“Around seven-thirty.”
“You work at the college, you said, right?” He was trying to confuse me, by jumping back and forth in the story. A technique that often works if a suspect is lying.
“Yes.”
“And you drove home?”
“Yes.”
“At what time?”
“Eight. I stood around watching the meteor for a while.” A small meteor had crashed on top of the physical education building at the campus. It was something I definitely hadn’t expected when I got up that morning.
“Yeah, that was something else, wasn’t it?”
Indeed it was. If he only knew. I nodded.
“Right in our little town.” He shook his head. His tone was friendly and conversational, like he was talking to someone he’d known and liked forever.
“Did you get pictures? Like on your phone?”
I shook my head. “Too freaked out.”
He chuckled. “I bet you were.”
I wanted to offer him a smile but I couldn’t make my face do it. My nerves were jangling.
“Anyway, it was snowing, right?”
“Yeah.”
“That snow makes the roads slippery. Treacherous. Believe me, I’ve seen my share of car fatalities because of weather. People just aren’t as careful as they should be. They think they’re immortal or something.”
This time I did offer a tiny smile, and was amazed I could manage it. I was so tired. My neck and shoulders ached from sitting there so long. My back screamed. Grief sat in my belly like a rock. “Can I stand up for a while?”
“Sure, Zoe. Stretch yourself out.” Detective Rayback kept his demeanor calm and laid back, but his eyes casually watched every single thing about me.
“Thanks.” I stood, stretching, my red combat boots creaking a little.
Rayback took in the boots, the worn, straight legged jeans rolled up to the ankles; a style made popular by the punks of the seventies and eighties. I wore my black The Clash t-shirt worn over a long sleeved black tee; the t-shirt I found in a box of memorabilia Kelly and I went through after the death of our mother.
“I remember The Clash. I actually went to see them in New York city back when they were big. Great show. Joe Strummer was a serious musician. Not everyone knows that, you know.”
I nodded, letting him know I was listening. But skin was crawling beneath my scalp.
“I like your hair, Zoe. Very cool. The black hair with the red streaks catches the eye. Cool cut, too.”
“Thanks. A friend at Antonio’s did it for me.”
“The hairdressing school?”
I nodded. This was all wrong. I shouldn’t even be here. I didn’t understand how this all happened. And beneath this, a gnawing, tearing panic. My niece was missing. Someone snatched her, right under my nose.
“That’s an expensive hairstyling school. My wife’s sister went there. How did you come up with the cash for that?”
Anger shot through me. Of course he was suggesting I stole it. Hadn’t I been in trouble with the law for stealing before?
The truth was more shameful to me than if I’d been a real thief. I’d stolen a loaf of bread at fourteen; went to court mandated counseling and mom went to AA meetings. They’d taken it easy on me.
“My mother had a life insurance policy.” It was for a hundred grand, which my sister and I split, and which allowed me to enroll in the hairstyling school in Saratoga. Rayback was right. It was the best hairstyling school in the area. I couldn’t have afforded to go there if it hadn’t been for the policy.
“Right. I’m sorry about your mother, Zoe.” His voice softened. He must’ve read something in my face. Maybe that I wasn’t happy my mother was dead.
But I was relieved. I was ashamed for it, but there is was. She’d been a hardcore drunk for a lot of years, and anyone who has an alcoholic for a parent knows what that means.
In the end, Kelly and I had to keep scooping Mom off the street, where she’d inevitably passed out; many times outside of a bar. She’d fall asleep in her car if she was lucky. She’d ended up in the hospital more times than I could count in the last few years.
Detective Rayback’s gaze stayed on my face, the wheels in his brain turning. I was betting he thought I was wracked with guilt because I had something to do with Jessica’s disappearance.
Telling him I didn’t was pointless. I’ve already told him this, many times. But everyone who ended up in this room likely denied any guilt or wrongdoing.
So Rayback said nothing as I slowly walked the length of the small room used for questioning suspects. I noticed the double-sided mirror the moment I walked in. The place was more like the movies than I’d thought.
His silence was unnerving. I preferred the endless questions. I could see why cops used it. It would make someone who was guilty nervous because you wouldn’t know what the cop was thinking. But it made me nervous too, even though I had nothing to do with Jessica’s vanishing.
I stopped and took a deep, shuddering breath. I turned to look at him. I imagined what he saw when he looked at me: a young girl who was full of anger; whose mother drank herself to death; literally and who had been in trouble with the law already, for stealing. So although I knew it wouldn’t do any good, I looked at him through tear blurred eyes and said, “I didn’t hurt Jessica. I had nothing to do with this. I love her.”
“Okay, Zoe,” Rayback said. “But I need to hear it again. Kelly and Derek are home when you get there.”
I turned my eyes heavenward and continued to walk the room, pacing. It was what trapped animals do, and I felt trapped --- Exhausted, heartsick and trapped. “Yes.”
“What kind of mood were they in, Zoe?”
“Great. Derek got a five hundred dollar Christmas bonus from work. He was taking her out to celebrate and he gave me twenty bucks to order a pizza.”
“You left that part out,” Rayback said.
“Well, he did. And so I ordered a medium pepperoni and cheese and the box with the remaining half was on the table when you guys showed up.” Frustration edged my tone. What the hell did it matter if I left out the pizza?
“It isn’t easy being an eighteen year old with a baby.” Rayback’s steady gaze stayed on my face.
“No. It isn’t. That’s why I moved in with Derek and Kelly, to help out. With us toggling our shifts, there would always be someone home to watch Jessica.”
“It helped you out, too, right? How much did they charge you for rent?”
“Just a hundred bucks a month, and I helped with groceries.”
“That was for room and board, basically, right? Where was the room?”
I sighed. This again. He knew where the room was. Right next to Jessica’s room. In fact, if Jessica woke up in the night, I heard her first. The baby monitor was in my room, because neither Kelly or Derek heard her crying. They both slept like the dead. “Right next to Jessica’s room.”
“Right. Right. You got up with her more than anyone.”
“Yes. I’m a light sleeper. Derek and Jessica could both sleep through an earthquake.”
“Good thing you moved in, then, huh?” His gaze stayed on my face, watching for a the slightest reaction.
I nodded. “I’m sure they’re not the first parents to not wake up when their kid cries.”
“How old are you, Zoe?” He knew the answer to that question.
I tried not to grit my teeth. “Seventeen.”
“That’s mighty young to be caring for a baby.”
I shrugged. “Lots of people do it. And it’s not all the time.”
He paused, and the silence stretched out for what seemed like forever.
I knew Kelly and Derek were also being questioned in rooms just like this one, just in case we were all involved in Jessica’s disappearance. Accidents happened. People lost control of themselves sometimes.
“You and Kelly are pretty close, aren’t you?”
I nod. “We had to be.”
“It’s tough having a mother who drinks.”
I said nothing. What was there to say? Having a mother who drinks means you really have no mother. You are the parent --- of yourself, your siblings and your mother.
He clearly knew this. Cops deal with all kind of people. What people are capable of doing when they don’t have the mental resources to parent, because they had piss poor parents, and don’t know how. He’s also seen what people will do to protect someone.
But I turned out the opposite. I was an excellent aunt to Jessica. I catered to her every need, before she even needed it.
Kelly? She wasn’t terrible. But she relied on me a lot to take care of Jessica. Because it came naturally to me. Which was a joke. If you saw me, you’d know why. I don’t exactly look like the warm, fuzzy kind. But people will surprise you. I surprised myself.
“What happened then?”
“I ate pizza. Fell asleep on the couch until they came home.”
“And then?”
“Kelly and Derek went to peek in on Jessica.”
He said nothing, still watching me. Waiting for me to go on.
“And she wasn’t there. She was gone.”
* * *
Rayback left me alone for a while. I was sure he and other cops were watching my every move behind the two-way mirror. I’d been there so long, and I was so tired, I just stared at the table like a zombie. They wouldn’t let me sleep.
If I closed my eyes, someone would walk in with coffee or a soda, or ask if I needed anything. They make sure I stayed awake.
I leaned forward and placed my head in my hands, scratching at my scalp. It felt like my skin was crawling. Were they even looking for Jessica?
Panic made my adrenaline spike, and for a moment I thought I’d hyperventilate. I must look guilty as hell.
I needed to get out of here. Jessica needed me. I had to find her.
I thought of yesterday, before this happened. How much life had changed since then.
* * *
The lights had still been on at the Ripley College education building when I pulled into the parking lot. I went to the hairstyling school in Saratoga Springs during the day, and I cleaned at night. The college is on the outskirts of Ripley, the town where I live.
The temperature seemed to have dropped ten degrees from when I started the drive a mere twenty minutes before. The chill air hitting my face made my breath catch in my throat. It actually hurt to take a breath. The cold snap had started a few days ago and it seemed like it had been going on forever. Especially for someone whose car heater doesn’t work.
The old combat boots I’d snagged at the thrift store downtown were awesome, but they didn’t do much to keep my feet warm. Of course, having socks full of quickly expanding holes didn’t help either. I’d have to invest in warmer socks and boots soon. The boots I’d get from the thrift store, if I didn’t find them on clearance somewhere, but the socks I refused to buy second hand. So I’d have to pinch pennies for those. Hard to do when you have so few pennies to pinch. I had to make the little bit of money left from my mother’s policy last. But at least I’d landed an internship at Make the Cut, the salon downtown. I was to start the following Sunday full-time, and it was two days away.
The heat of the school felt wonderful when I first stepped through the doors, but soon felt stifling. Some parts of the college had the heat blasting, while other parts were frigid. I’d learned every corner of the place during my year cleaning for Joe.
Moving quickly, I made my way to the women’s locker room, just outside the exercise room and pool. I wasn’t scheduled to work, and I didn’t plan on going back to the college after this night. But I had a score to settle.
“Let’s see what we can find today, shall we?” I said to the lock as I held it to my ear and slowly turned the dial. It didn’t take long to hear the first click. Another twenty seconds and I heard the second. The third took about a minute, and I was starting to sweat. I like to be quick when I’m breaking into lockers. It’s better that way.
I used to do it for the thril
l of getting away with it. But since Jessica was born, I’d turned over a new leaf. She deserved better than a thief for an aunt.
The particular locker I was breaking into now belonged to a tall cheerleader type who’d tossed a gum wrapped on the floor in front of me as I was sweeping the floor. Later on, after her class and while I was mopping, she spit her gum right on top of the mop. The mop was an old fashioned jobbie with all the strings.
Messy.
The woman’s locker room --- as much a joy for me now as it had been in high school. Ah, nostalgia. Nice to know that the bitches of my gender never change.
I’d endured jabs about the red and purple streaks in my black hair. I’d endured the jabs about my less than fashionable clothes (according to the fashion squad). I’d even endured the snickers about my worn combat boots.
But gum on my mop?
Well now, that was a horse of a different color. I was pissed.
I looked up at her and met her sneer with one of my own. I knew where her locker was because she walked to it every second day before and after her 7:00 p.m swim class. And I just happen to have a flare for picking locks of all kinds.
Call it a talent, maybe even a calling.
Really, though, it was just a hobby. I did it for the challenge, and never actually stole what I found behind the locks.
Anyway, she shoved her purse, $800 android phone and Gucci handbag complete with matching Gucci wallet, credit cards, and cash in there.
The lock popped open and I smiled like a kid at Christmas. I quickly removed it and opened the locker. There was my booty.
“Hello, my lovelies.” I removed everything from her locker and shoved it into my backpack, including the lock. Then I high tailed it out of there. As my old combats clicked on the freshly washed floor, I hummed a merry tune.
Yup. That had been one expensive wad of gum. I hoped she’d enjoyed it before horking it at my mop.
Was I afraid of getting caught? Nope. No one here knew my real name. Joe paid me under the table. Luckily for me, it was just how he did things. I wouldn’t be back here.