Sanctuary
© 2013 Pauline Creeden
Cover Design Copyright © 2013 by Marcy Rachel
E-book Edition.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious and are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Interior formatting and design by Inkstain Interior Book Designing.
AND THE NAME OF THE STAR IS CALLED WORMWOOD:
And the third part of the waters became wormwood; and many men died of the waters, because they were made bitter. And the fourth angel sounded, and the third part of the sun was smitten, and the third part of the moon, and the third part of the stars; so as the third part of them was darkened, and the day shone not for a third part of it, and the night likewise. And I beheld, and heard an angel flying through the midst of heaven, saying with a loud voice, Woe, woe, woe, to the inhabiters of the earth by reason of the other voices of the trumpet of the three angels, which are yet to sound!
—REVELATION 8:11-13
“NO, I DON’T WANT TO see them.” Jennie Ransom swallowed hard, and her heart jumped to her throat. In her panic, she itched to claw her way out of the little blue Volkswagen.
“But I hear we can see them from the highway.” Liza shook her red curls.
Jennie stared at Liza, trying to steady the erratic beat of her heart. “My parents will kill me.”
When she received no response, she turned away, watching the highway pass by at 65 mph—or faster if she knew Liza.
“They don’t even have to know.”
Right. Mom and Dad didn’t have to know. It would be fine, yet the knowledge didn't help her feel any better. Jennie closed her eyes and willed her heart to slow.
“It’s been over a week, and we still haven’t seen them. And I really want to see them before we leave,” Liza whined, hitting the lock button on the doors.
Jennie’s eyes snapped open. “What am I going to do? Jump out?”
Liza giggled.
The gaping maw of the Hampton Roads Bridge Tunnel loomed before them. Hardly any traffic, and a gray mist consumed all but the bridge.
“Fine. But we do a drive-by, and that’s it. Are we agreed?” She clenched her jaw after saying it. Whatever her crazy friend wanted to do with her, she was honestly at Liza’s disposal.
“Agreed. I don’t want to get any closer, anyway. Who knows if they’ve got some kind of tractor beam or something?” Liza's hand swept up toward the sky.
What a child. Jennie shook her head. How much had they changed, really, since the aliens came?
On the radio, Shania Twain belted the song from a Cover Girl commercial. Jennie eyed Liza, whose intent gaze focused over the dashboard as they pulled into the tunnel.
The traffic was lighter than Jennie had ever seen. With one-third of the population killed off by the aliens’ indirect attacks, it wasn't surprising. Other people, like Liza’s family, were running for the hills to get as far from the ships as they could. Anywhere was better than being near the population centers and military bases the ships hovered over.
When they pulled out of the tunnel and into the grey afternoon light, Jennie took a deep breath and scanned the sky. Nothing yet. But they were only a few miles outside of the Norfolk Naval Base, and it wouldn’t be long.
Liza drummed on the steering wheel and sang a line of the song, ending it by mouthing her own version of the guitar riff.
Jennie swallowed and gripped the shoulder rest of her seatbelt as they pulled off the bridge and made it onto Willoughby Spit. Outside the window, a few seagulls surrounded dead fish on the shore, and she could only imagine how badly it must stink. The fish had been dying in droves since the aliens had attacked the water supply. All but the groundwater had been tainted. Filtration systems had no effect. The strange bitter-flavored toxin killed the fish and would kill people if they forced it down. Luckily, the harsh taste made most people spit it right back out.
They pulled through a treed area and passed a state trooper. Liza let off the gas and decelerated, staring in her rearview mirror.
“That isn’t going to stop you from getting a ticket, if that cop is in a mood.” Jennie laughed, and when no blue lights followed them after a minute, she added, “Lucky.”
“No kidding,” Liza laughed, “Did I ever tell you about the time—oh my God!” Her eyes grew wide, and slammed the brakes. Jennie’s seatbelt locked.
“What?” Jennie followed the line of Liza’s gaze. They passed out of the treed area, and it came into view. Silver, round, and glossy, just as the news said it would be. It shifted in and out like a mirage. She blinked hard at it, while Liza pulled the car over to the shoulder.
“I can’t believe it.” The tremor in Liza’s voice betrayed her nerves.
Jennie nodded but didn’t say a thing. The moment reminded her of her first glimpse of the Statue of Liberty, as they drove by it, headed for upstate New York. From the highway, the statue had looked like a toy on the horizon. Her heart had leapt in her chest then, just as it did now. It’s one thing to be told about something, and even see pictures of it on TV, but it was quite another to take it in with your own eyes.
She tore her gaze away from the strange, floating metal disk and saw that Liza’s was the last in a long line of cars that had pulled over on the shoulder. Some people had even stepped out of their cars to take pictures with their camera phones. Liza hopped out, and Jennie gave a grumbled response to the closing door. Even though fear gripped her insides, she unbuckled and jumped out after her friend.
Liza clicked away with her camera phone, standing in awe with the others. The look of the disk rotating in the sky, blocking out the half-lit sun, was enough to make Jennie want to scream and hide under her bed covers. She could understand, now, why so many were running for the hills. Shivers ran up her spine and gooseflesh popped up her arms.
“Liza, what are you doing here?” a man asked. The sun glinted off the golden highlights in his brown hair. He looked vaguely familiar.
“Mr. Harris.” A blush rose to Liza's cheeks.
Jennie blinked and studied the man. Yep. Hot Mr. Harris, the Bio teacher and every senior girl’s crush. Her friend, Terra, had taken the class with him last year. Jennie shoved her hands into her pockets and averted her gaze from the thrumming metal disk less than a half mile away.
“You girls shouldn’t be here, you know. It’s not safe, and I’m sure your parents wouldn’t approve,” Mr. Harris admonished but gave them a half smile.
Was that a dimple? Had she ever seen him smile before? Ridiculous. Of course not. Her eyes returned to the disk, and its vibration continued in her chest. Panic rose up in her throat again.
“Do you think you could take a picture of us? Then we’ll leave. Promise.” Liza handed Mr. Harris her phone and yanked Jennie toward the metal fence line.
She dragged her feet and shook her head. The last thing Jennie wanted to do was get closer.
Mr. Harris eyed her, his brows furrowed. “Did I teach you last year? No, wait—Terra’s friend, right?”
Jennie half nodded.
Liza adjusted Jennie’s shoulders and wrapped her arm around them, turning her so that her back was to the ship. Jennie stiffened. The thrumming of the machine sent vibrations through her core. She could hardly stand still. Prickling fear ran across her back, as if she were being watched...or as if she was vulnerable to an attack. She longed for the safety of the car.
Mr. Harris frowned,
his worried, sympathetic eyes fixed on Jennie’s.
“The picture, Mr. Harris?” Liza reminded him.
“Oh, yeah.” He lifted the camera phone and snapped it.
The minute the flash ended, Jennie darted for the car, fumbling with the handle, and dizzy from hyperventilating.
“Are you okay?” Mr. Harris called after her.
“She’s fine, and thanks for the pict—”
With a door slam, Jennie cut off the last word and the dreadful hum of the alien ship’s constant rotation. She slumped into the seat. The pit of her stomach still quivered, and she felt faint. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see or hear any more.
A moment later, the car door opened, and Liza spoke. “Wasn’t that the coolest thing you’ve ever seen?”
Jennie broke into a cold sweat. “Whatever. Let’s just go home, okay?”
“Chicken.” Liza made a few bock-bocks and flapped her elbows like wings.
Jennie smacked Liza's elbow when it threatened to pop her in the chin. “Okay, whatever. Let’s just go.”
With a shrug, Liza pulled the Volkswagen Beetle back onto the highway. She made her way to the next exit, where she turned around. “Well, at least I’ve got a picture of the two of us for a keepsake.”
Jennie groaned.
“And we got to see ‘Hot Mr. Harris.’” She giggled.
Jennie rolled her eyes. What did her friends see in him? He was so much older than they were—at least in his mid-twenties.
As they passed the ship again, on Liza’s side, Jennie turned her head away and looked out her window at the abandoned houses in those neighborhoods. If she didn’t see the ship, it was easier to deny it hovered there. As far as she was concerned, she’d never seen it.
And out of the smoke locusts came down on the earth and were given power like that of scorpions of the earth. They were told not to harm the grass of the earth or any plant or tree, but only those people who did not have the seal of God on their foreheads.
—REVELATION 9:3
JENNIE RANSOM WANTED TO THROW a tantrum like a three-year-old.
Her mom finished drying her hands on the checkered dishtowel and looked up at her. “I can’t believe they are even going to hold classes with all that’s going on. Regardless, you’re not going.”
“Why not? My roommate is going back. It’s ridiculous that you’re going to keep me home.”
“Do you think I care what your roommate and her parents are doing?” Mom’s stern look tried to shame her.
Jennie refused to let it. “Obviously not.”
“Look, Jennie,” Mom said, as she placed a hand on her daughter's shoulder. Jennie ripped away and crossed her arms, glaring at her. Mom didn’t frown or glare back, but her eyes looked both tired and hurt. “I don’t like this anymore than you do, but with the chaos the world is in right now, your sophomore year of college will have to be put on hold.”
Jennie sighed, clenching and unclenching her jaw. The breeze from the inch gap in the kitchen window blew wisps of brown hair into her face. She leaned her back against the kitchen sink. Why did her parents have to be so overprotective? The alien ships had simply hovered for the past six weeks. Sure, the poisoned water had killed many people—but that was on the other side of the world. No one she knew had been harmed. And maybe it had been a mistake—maybe they were simply trying to make it drinkable for themselves, not trying to kill people. If the aliens wanted to destroy them, wouldn't it have happened by now? She was so tired of sitting around, doing nothing.
Mom searched Jennie’s face. “One of those alien ships hovers right over Norfolk. That’s less than twenty miles away.”
“But if I was at Virginia Tech, I’d be almost three hundred miles away.”
“There’s one over D.C., too,” her mother continued as though she hadn’t heard. “And if war breaks out, like the newscasters are saying, I’d rather have you here than three hundred miles away. Who knows what they are capable of? Just look at the sun.”
Her mom walked to the window over the kitchen sink and pointed. Jennie reluctantly turned her head. The oversized orange ball that replaced the sun was a sad facsimile of what it used to be. Black spots marred the surface from where the aliens had attacked it. Bigger, yet not as warm. The thought barely made any sense to her.
“But the aliens have just been sitting there for weeks, Mom. They haven’t moved, yet.”
“…yet.” Her mother repeated, a finger raised.
“Do you expect me to stay indoors all the time, or am I allowed to go outside?”
“That’s just mean, Jennie. You can go to the community college while you’re home, so you don’t fall behind in your studies. I just don’t want you to be far away should something happen.”
Even though it was her goal to lay a guilt trip on her mom, Jennie still felt a twinge of remorse when she looked into those sad brown eyes. She took a deep breath and uncrossed her arms.
“Fine. I’ll get online and register for classes today.”
Her heart broke a little at the thought. The freedom she’d discovered her freshman year away from home slipped through her fingers. Up until now, she could hardly wait to go back, just to get out from her mother and father’s rules and constant, “Where are you going?” Now she resigned herself to the loss of freedom. She swallowed a lump in her throat.
“Good. I’m glad you understand,” Mom said, laying a hand successfully on Jennie’s shoulder and kissing her cheek.
“Yeah, yeah.” Jennie shrugged her off and took her cell phone from her pocket. Her thumbs moved across the keys and texted Jessica, her roommate.
Not going back! Rents have me on lockdown. :(
“Could you move out of the way, honey?” Mom pushed on Jennie’s hip to get under the kitchen sink. Jennie flung her hands in the air and threw herself into a chair at the kitchen table. Now her mom wanted control of where she stood in the kitchen.
That sucks! Jessica texted back, Zeta Psi is gonna miss u.
Ugh. Her crush on Freddie would just have to wait, too. The frat boy hardly noticed her as a freshman last year anyway, except to offer her beer. Jennie always politely took the can, holding it so that no one else would offer her one, and eventually left it unopened on a coffee table. She hated the taste, and the guilt of her parents transcended the three hundred miles, too.
I know, Jennie texted, And Chinese on Wed w/o me, 2 :(
The ache in her chest sank deeper into her stomach.
Her mother pulled out gardening gloves and a bag of Mulch & Grow from the cabinet.
“Why are you bothering with that? It’s not like those tomatoes are going to grow anyway. It’s too cold.”
“With some tender loving care, they just might.” Mom gave her a crooked grin, rising from her knees with the bag and gloves. She wore a floral sweater and her gardening jeans, a ridiculous outfit for July in Virginia, normally the hottest month of the year.
Now the temperature registered thirty degrees lower than it used to. Outside, it was a balmy sixty-two degrees. Jennie’s favorite weather, in fact, except that it was so unnatural that she just couldn’t enjoy it. “So you’re going to pretend that everything’s fine?”
“Yep.”
“But not fine enough for me to go back to school?”
“Nope.”
“Does Dad agree on this, too?”
“Yep.”
“Whatever!” Jennie gave an exasperated squeal and threw her hands in the air again. She rubbed her temple. A headache was coming.
Her father slept upstairs, even though the late morning sun rose over the trees. Her father naturally rose early, but that was before the aliens came. Now, he stayed up late every night watching 24-hour news stations, waiting for something to happen. The house was quiet. Her father and little brother slept, and the television rested in silence. Her mother slipped out the door to the garden, and Jennie stood to look outside the window through the top half of the kitchen door. Whistling, her mother hopped down the
steps toward her tomato plants in the weak, half-yellow sunlight.
Jennie shrugged and headed to the cupboard as a triad beep went off in her hand. She read Jessica’s text.
Gonna miss u 2 much! :(
Shaking her head, Jennie turned her sadness to irritation with her headache and stuck the phone in her pocket without texting back. She couldn’t stand it anymore. She reached up into the cupboard for a glass and headed to the kitchen sink. Bottled water couldn’t be trusted unless it was over two months old. She ran the tapped groundwater through the filter for a moment and watched her mother out the window above the sink.
Her mom bent over the plants, spreading her Mulch & Grow. Even though it was nearly eleven, the lighting made it appear dusk. The golden hue gave her mother a halo over her nut brown hair. Jennie really did love her mother, but she loved her better when there were more miles between them.
Jennie filled the glass and set it on the counter. She needed an ibuprofen.
As she reached up to the top shelf in the pantry, a vibration started in her chest. Holding the white bottle in her hand, she turned around confused.
Like a jet when it flew too low, the rumble increased in intensity as it approached. Jennie watched the glass tremble on the counter top for a moment before fear clenched her stomach. “MOM!?”
She rushed to the sink and looked out the window, but her mother wasn’t in the garden any more. Jennie barreled through the kitchen, the vibrations in her chest like bass on a stereo. “MOM?”
When Jennie reached the back door, she saw them. Four large dog-like creatures with pinched faces like bulldogs and lion-like manes. They snarled, and one of them leapt at the window on the top half of the door when it saw her. Jennie jumped back and fell hard on the cold tile floor. The bottle of painkiller bounced across the kitchen tiles. The creature slammed against the window a second time, cracking it. She blinked hard. Her heart sunk, and the hairs on her arms stood on end. A horrendous gargling howl rent the air, causing a shiver down her spine. She held her breath and waited for the creature to slam into the door again.
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