by Mel Corbett
There wasn’t anywhere for them to go, but they didn’t argue. Mary would have when she was their age. The boys went to the back of the motorhome and waited.
Mary dug through the glove box, looking for a map of Nevada. Her in-laws might finally have cell phones, but they wouldn’t trust a cell phone’s map. She could almost hear her father-in-law’s voice telling her how he used ‘real maps’ that can’t run out of batteries or lose service.
“Will!” Mary whispered. “I found the right map!”
She gestured for Will to sit in the driver’s seat and worked to keep her voice quiet as they studied the map and the roads. They found where they were easy enough. They weren’t actually that far from Elko, even though they’d taken the back roads.
“Boys, we’re going to Elko,” Mary called as Will fired up the motorhome.
THIRTEEN
RACHEL
RACHEL LEANED THE HOE against the shed and wiped her blistered hands on her thighs. They didn’t sting as much as they had a month ago. She might actually be starting to form calluses in the right spots. She took a swig from her water bottle. Rachel smiled. She’d finished before Jenna’s mom could complain she’d taken too long. She was getting better. Maybe she’d go see Nate and find out what was happening on the CB before Mrs. Fitzsimmons could tell her what to do now that she’d hoed neat rows into the garden plot.
She turned towards the barn, but Mrs. Fitzsimmons held out a hand trowel and a packet of seeds.
“I saw you finishing up. Let’s get these watermelon seeds planted. I want them an inch deep and about three inches apart. Then you’ll have to fetch water—”
Rachel reached for the seeds, but Nate flung open the barn door.
“We can’t stay!” he shouted. “They just took a farmstead with twenty people up in Chico. Twelve is too many.”
Jenna’s mom sighed. “I suppose we’ll need to round everyone up and get you lot on your way.” She didn’t seem surprised.
Truth be told, Rachel wasn’t that surprised either. They’d been hearing about groups of fifty and a hundred being taken on the radio. The aliens were working their way down from the massive population centers and taking everyone.
Nate, Rachel, and the others gathered their things. Rachel and Nate paired off with Olivia and Brandon, and the other couple took off on their own. Jenna produced three caged chickens.
“These are some of our best layers. We can’t give up any more of our laying hens, but…” She glanced to Mrs. Fitzsimmons who nodded. “Mama says each couple can take a layer. I know it’s not much, but let them graze and eat the eggs. Hopefully, they’ll give you about an egg a day.”
Rachel nodded, swallowing hard. An egg wasn’t much a day. A meal of chicken would probably serve them better, but… her friend was trying to look out for them.
“Thanks, Jen,” Rachel said.
Nate took their chicken and loaded the small cage to the trailer they’d rigged for Rachel’s bike.
Jenna pulled Rachel into a hug, and Rachel swallowed back her sorrow. She’d probably never see her friend again.
“Bye,” Rachel said, surprised at how choked her own voice was.
FOURTEEN
MARY
WHEN MARY’S FAMILY GOT close to town, they left the motorhome on the side of the road and piled onto their bikes so they could split off and run if need be. They made it to the grocery store easy enough, but someone had already smashed in the doors. It had already been looted.
Still, Mary felt a sense of calm. The sky was clear, all blue. The massive ships weren’t there. Sure, the looters might be around, but not them.
“Jor and I will get the water, maybe some more food,” Mary said, pushing a cart towards Jordan. “Keep watch out here.”
Out of some sense of order, they entered through the main entrance, even though the glass doors had been smashed. The layout shunted them through to the produce section.
Mary felt like a vulture hoping to feed off the rotting corpse of the store. Flies buzzed around rotten fruits and veggies. Mary ignored the smell as best she could, and as soon as possible ducked down a side aisle. The drinks aisle branched off the big center aisle. They threw what was left of the water into their carts.
“Mom, should we take the gator–”
Will and Mike started screaming from the entrance.
“Grab what you can and go!” Mary shouted, throwing the last thing of water into her cart and hauling ass towards the front of the store.
Will and Mike were running into the exit towards the registers calling their names.
“What is it?” Mary shouted.
“The metal things are here!” Will gasped.
“They took people from houses,” Mikey said. “I thought the houses were empty, but they smashed the house and started dragging people out.”
“Is the ship here?” Mary asked. How could they have missed the giant thing? The sky had been bright blue when they came inside not even five minutes earlier.
“Just the floating things,” Will said. He grabbed Mary’s arm.
“We need to hide,” Mary said. Maybe they could hide in the back room.
“No, you didn’t see it break apart the house,” Will said. They knew where the people were. We have to outrun them.”
“They’re quick, but there’s only a couple of ‘em,” Mikey said.
The implication was that if they all went different ways, they might have some sort of a chance. Still, Mary didn’t like the thought of splitting up from her family.
Mikey and Will had brought their bikes through the doors almost to the register. They jumped on their bikes and raced out. The drones zipped after them. Jordan and Mary ran for their bikes outside the store by the main entrance. Mary’s bike started no problem, but his wouldn’t turn over.
“Take mine,” she said, giving him the smaller bike.
“Mom, I can’t just…” he trailed off when she gave him the look.
“You’re more important. Go!”
He disappeared around the corner. Another drone appeared out of nowhere. Mary struggled to get his bike to turn over.
“Come on, baby,” she said, trying to sweet talk it. It wouldn’t go.
A metal arm reached towards her.
She yanked on the clutch, and the engine screamed to life.
The front wheel came up from the sudden surge of power, threatening to throw her off the bike. She thrust herself forward, fighting the wheelie.
A strange mechanical whirring competed with the sound of her engine.
She zipped around the corner. The other bikes whined as they dodged the aliens. Mary doubled around to find Mikey looping back down the street she turned on.
The drones that were chasing them blocked both corners. They both leaned hard into a small alley.
Thank God it opened into another street. They had two drones behind them and were ready to turn onto the other street when a third appeared in front of them.
“Stay behind me!” Mary shouted. She had to help her baby get away. Mikey needed to escape. She didn’t matter compared to him. The drone in front of them moved forwards, and Mary saw her chance. A piece of plywood tipped over a dumpster.
She’d never jumped his bike before. She’d never jumped any bike before, but she had to save her son.
“Bruce Willis can kiss my ass!” Mary shouted as she opened the throttle and raced up the piece of plywood. She aimed her bike at the big drone approaching them.
The thing caught the bike with one metal grabber. It picked her off the bike with its other arm.
Mary watched as Mikey dodged underneath her and took off down the open street.
FIFTEEN
RACHEL
BAREFOOT, RACHEL SQUISHED CAREFULLY through the marshy field. She’d ditched her shoes by the bikes and the hen after the muck had pulled them off for the third time. She prayed, to who she didn’t know, that she would find some sort of food, maybe a crane’s nest full of chicks… they walked around the marshe
s on the stilt-legs. They must nest around here too, right? Maybe rice or whatever it was that grew in this marshy field. Maybe a crow’s nest in a tree. Something.
In the distance, the ships circling downtown Sacramento changed their holding pattern. The lightning flickered, and Rachel wanted to count the seconds until the thunder, but it never came.
“Not gonna find any food staring at Sacto, Rach,” Nate said.
Rachel sighed. They hadn’t had anything except the chicken’s eggs and a few green tomatoes in almost a week. They needed to eat something. Nate’s belly had started swelling and his normal rail-thin frame was showing the knobs of his joints. He needed to eat.
“Not finding anything anyway,” Brandon called from his section of the field.
“On the plus side, Jenny Craig can suck it,” Olivia said. “We’re getting model-skinny now.”
“Nate already was too skinny,” Rachel snapped. He’d been the only one without that softness to him.
No one said anything.
“Sorry. I’m just worried and hungry,” Rachel said after a few minutes. She felt guilty for snapping at her friend’s joke.
“We all are.” Brandon and Olivia slogged their way through the mud towards Rachel and Nate.
“We should eat the damn chickens,” Rachel said.
“But Jenna said to eat the eggs.” Under the dirt, Olivia turned pale.
“I’m worried about Nate, about all of us. Half an egg isn’t going to keep starvation away.” An egg was only seventy calories. Even if it had good fats, it wasn’t enough.
“Rach, it’s only been a couple weeks since Jenna’s place,” Nate said.
How could he be so calm? It had been three weeks, and they’d barely eaten in that time. Splitting an egg and the little they’d scrounged from the local monocrop farms was not enough food.
“That’s not long enough to starve,” Nate said.
”We’re all getting too skinny,” Rachel said.
Nate looked frail to her, and it was long enough to starve if they used up all their fat stores biking from Winters, to Dixon, to Davis, to Sac looking for food.
“Nate and I are eating our chicken. Do what you want with yours.”
Rachel stomped through the muck back towards the bikes where the hens were tied.
“Rachel, don’t,” Nate said, even though he needed to eat more than her.
They all needed to eat. Liv and Brandon could starve if they wanted, but she was feeding Nate. The chicken sensed her intentions. The normally peaceful hen squawked and flapped and pulled its lead tight, but it had nowhere to go. She caught it by the neck as she’d seen Jenna’s mom do when she’d killed a laying hen for dinner once a week. She twirled even as the bird struggled in her grip. The neck cracked and the bird continued flapping and kicking for a few minutes before finally hanging still in her hands.
“Nate, start up a fire while I clean the bird.”
A lone crow stared down at them from the useless telephone wires.
“You’re next if you get close enough,” Rachel shouted at the crow. It squawked, dive bombed her once and flew off.
Even out of the marshy field, Nate’s steps looked wobbly. He needed to eat, and Rachel hoped the chicken would be enough.
SIXTEEN
KAILEY
BEHIND MR. JOHNSON’S DESK, the class phone kept ringing. One kid after another got sent to the office to be picked up by their parents. No more announcements came over the PA. There were only five kids left when the phone rang again.
“Maybe it’ll be you,” Kailey told CJ. He shook his head. His mom hadn’t texted him back either.
“We’re all going to the multi,” Mr. Johnson said. He had them grab their bags and travel in an orderly line, like in grade school, to the multipurpose room. Someone had rolled out the lunch tables, and, even with more than half the school gone, it was a tight fit on the benches.
Some of the teachers rolled in an old school TV on a cart and set it to play the news broadcasting on every channel. More parents came, leaving only a handful of kids and the few teachers whose whole classes hadn’t been claimed.
CJ’s hand brushed Kailey’s as they whispered back and forth while the news played.
“They’re right over us,” a muffled voice said on the TV. It didn’t belong to any of the reporters.
They gym fell silent, except for the TV.
The reporters ran off the stage, leaving nothing to see but an empty set. Kailey had never seen reporters do that in real life. Off-screen, someone screamed, then a metal thing floated in front of the cameras and the screen went blue. It scared her more than the giant ship flying overhead had. She grabbed CJ’s hand.
Old Ms. Hoyt turned off the TV. Her hands shook when she reached in front of the TV.
One of the other teachers whispered something to her; she shook her head. Everyone asked, “What’s going on?”
Ms. Hoyt stood patiently in front of the TV, with her hands clasped together. Exactly how she waited to get students’ attention in class. She smiled as the kids quieted down.
“Some of the teachers will watch the news and look for updates in the kitchen. We’ll keep the TV quiet. I don’t want anyone getting too excited. We don’t know what is happening and no one needs to jump to conclusions.”
Kailey needed to hear her parents’ voices. She needed to know they were alright. She needed to know they were making things better. She needed to tell them she loved them.
Her phone refused to work. It wouldn’t call them. She tried to call with Facebook messenger, but the internet wasn’t working either. She tried Google. Her phone was completely down. She couldn’t access the outside world at all.
SEVENTEEN
CONNIE
CONNIE STARED UP AT the ceiling. They’d cut the generator for the night and it was dark, except for the light of the stars. She tried counting sheep. She tried turning off her mind, but she couldn’t get that panicked voice from the radio out of her head.
“That man didn’t try to escape the aliens, he warned us not to bunch up,” Connie said.
“I know honey, but there’s a lot less of us than there was at their place,” George said. “We’ll be fine.”
Connie grunted in response and went back to staring at the ceiling. She flopped onto one side and pulled the pillow over her head. It didn’t work.
She couldn’t breathe.
She threw off the pillow, still unable to breathe. Bile rose up in her throat. She sat bolt upright, panting, trying to catch her breath.
Her heart seized in her chest. Connie started to scream. Everyone rushed into the room. Her parents, her in-laws, her sister, even the kids. Calvin woke up and started sobbing.
“It’s okay, we got this,” George said, pushing them out of the bedroom.
“It’s okay, baby, we got this.” He knelt on the bed beside his wife and pulled her into his arms. “We’re safe. There’s just a few of us.”
Connie wailed in his arms.
George rocked her until the panic attack passed.
“They’re going to come for us,” she sobbed into George’s shoulder. “We’re all together, and they’ve been taking little towns, small groups. It’s only a matter of time.”
“And what are we supposed to do?” he asked. “There’s only eleven of us, and half of that’s the kids.”
“They’re going to get us if we don’t split up,” Connie said, pulling away from him. “Lord, strike me down if I’m wrong.”
“Connie, don’t be ridiculous.” He eased off the bed and picked up baby Calvin from his crib. “Where’s our family going to go?”
Connie shrugged. She didn’t have a solution or a place for them to go, but she had food in her pantry and freezer. She knew the aliens were going to come for her, George, and her little Calvin. She didn’t want to lose them.
“Connie, we’ll make this work, but the only way they’ll all make it through is if we stick together.”
“Sticking together didn’t
help them in the cities,” Connie said. She was right. Sticking together did no good against those flying metal coffins. Sticking together didn’t ward off their grabbing arms in the cities or even that group of fifty.
“If they don’t have anywhere to go…” Connie said. She swallowed down the hysteria rising alongside the bile in her throat. “We’ll leave them here. Here’s the safest place for them, but we’ve got skills they don’t.”
“It’s your hormones,” George said. “That’s all. We’ll be okay.”
“It’s not my hormones. We need to be isolated or the aliens will get us.”
George didn’t answer. He just rocked Calvin until the little one stopped crying.
EIGHTEEN
RACHEL
RACHEL SWATTED AT THE crow dive-bombing her head. Campus, school, the whole town of Davis had been abandoned except for the crows that followed them around.
“Hold still!” Nate whined, rock clutched in his hand.
“Just hit the stupid crow, not me!”
The damn things were everywhere since she’d killed the hen. Still, they couldn’t seem to bring one down to cook it. The birds seemed to have a sense of how far Nate and Rachel could throw a rock and moved too fast for them to do much about it.
The crow disappeared into the mass of its friends in the trees, cawing and cackling at Rachel and Nate. Rachel understood now why a mass of crows was called a murder. They had it out for her and Nate, like they understood that Rachel had killed the hen and threatened one of their own, but that was impossible.
“Let’s just try and get some water from the creek, see if we can’t boil it somewhere away from them,” Rachel said.
Nate shambled toward the bikes, dropping the rock. His hand just went loose. He grabbed what he used to call Rachel’s waste-of-money, stainless steel, BPA-free water bottle from the water bottle cage. Now, they’d boiled it a dozen times and it still worked.
She didn’t like the way he swayed on his feet as he moved away from the bikes.