Invasion

by Eli Constant

  A nearby dumpster smelled gross, but it screamed ‘shelter.’ I threw back the heavy metal lid and vaulted in. I tried to reclose it quietly, but still feared that the barely audible thump of metal against metal would draw unwanted attention. I knew dad would be looking for me. I knew he’d find me.

  I waited for hours. I dozed off at some point and woke up to a scratching sound outside my stinking abode. My heart fluttered. I could see it was day time; bright light peeked through cracks into the dumpster.

  My mind heard scratching and equated it with certain demise. I rose slowly and pushed the lid of the dumpster up, ever so slightly.

  And my heart settled back in its proper place. The ugliest cat I’d ever seen was scratch, scratch, scratching at my metal door. I had a raven moment and wondered if I’d affected the madness of a Poe character.

  Other than my feline friend, all was clear. No nasty, bent-over, abominations of human anatomy waiting to strike. I realized my dad hadn’t tried to call me. Then I realized that I didn’t have my phone. I’d grabbed my backpack, but had left my cell buried under the covers on my bed. Crap.

  By the sun’s position, it had to be well past seven or eight in the morning. I threw my right leg over the dumpster rim and half-rolled, half-fell out onto the concrete.

  In daylight, the events of last night didn’t seem so real or so frightening.

  It was so quiet. The usual morning sounds of hustling people on their way to jobs was absent on the streets. I heard a bird call into the silence. It was a lonely sound, like the bird was also disturbed by the lack of daily noise.

  I had no idea what to do. I should be with dad. He should have everything under control. I came to a halt at the end of the alley. The streets were as deserted as they were noiseless. I picked a direction and started walking. It felt like I walked for hours before I found human beings. In reality, I probably walked for ten or twenty minutes.

  I knew them from school. Daniel and Allison Shultz were both in my history class with Mr. Benson. Allison had an A average; Daniel and I both were scraping by with C’s. I guess it didn’t help that Daniel and I tried to cheat off the same girl. We weren’t good friends, but we knew each other and were fairly nice to one another.

  “Hey!” I called and waved both arms over my head. “Hey! Over here!”

  Allison turned first and her eyebrows rose in acknowledgement. She elbowed her brother in the side and pointed in my direction. His expression was pretty grim.

  “Mike? Of all people, I did not expect you to survive.” His eyes studied me, looking for some signs of fight and flight.

  “Survive?” I knew my mom was dead. I knew my neighbors were MIA, but I didn’t grasp what he meant. I didn’t realize the scope of the attacks went far beyond my little strip of small homes. My reality was quickly and sickeningly adjusting. I couldn’t keep up, despite my running prowess.

  “Haven’t you noticed what’s been going on? People have been disappearing for weeks. Last night was like open season on humanity. Our parents have had the jeep packed for days. We were going to leave this morning, but we should have left sooner. Smart people got out sooner.” His voice was gruff in grief. I could see Allison’s eyes becoming wet and shiny.

  They’d lost their parents. I’d lost my mom. We were a couple of orphans. No foster homes for us though. The world was our oyster- our rotten, slimy, uninviting oyster.

  “My mom’s dead. I don’t know where my dad is.” I don’t think I’d really absorbed a dead mother and a missing father.

  A normal kid would have cried, felt sadness- some sort of emotion- I felt empty. Even sicker, I had a small sensation of freedom bouncing around the hollows of my empty and hungry stomach.

  No more cleaning up vomit from tile floors. No more washing sickness out of my mom’s hair and helping her into bed. No more putting on a happy face for my dad so he wouldn’t feel so guilty.

  “I have no idea where we’re going or what we’re doing, but I figure we’ll be safer if it’s three of us instead of two. Jump in.” Daniel pointed at the passenger side rear door.

  I didn’t need to be asked twice. I opened the door and made myself comfortable. Thank God it was a hard topped jeep otherwise the monsters would be able to cut into the cabin effortlessly.

  I looked toward the driver’s seat at the back of Daniel’s head. It looked like he wasn’t so bent out of shape after all. His parents were dead, but he’d still found the time to plaster his hair into a perky, preppy boy flip. If we had to fight for our lives, hope he didn’t break a nail.

  On the upside, Daniel’s lack of survival instinct might come in handy. When we had to run in gym class, Daniel was always the slowest. If nothing else, he’d serve as slow-bait to distract the beasties while I sprinted away. My mouth curved upwards slightly. I pulled my backpack off and threw it onto the bench seat beside me.

  My dad always said if I got lost, he’d find me. Stay in one place and eventually our paths will cross, he’d say.

  I don’t think he meant me to sit idly by while the world fell apart though. My odds of being saved were outweighed by my odds of being eaten by a passing monster. I’d keep moving.

  Eventually dad would find me. Mom used to swear he was part bloodhound. He never had trouble tracking down her hidden stashes of wine and hard liquor.

  Dad was just going to have to use his keen sense of smell to track me cross country. The town and I were divorcing.

  Lost and Found

  We passed through Dickinson, ND and satisfied our fuel needs. Jason insisted on siphoning the fuel himself. I wasn’t going to argue. If he wanted to be a gentleman, let him.

  The four hour stretch of driving that followed was uneventful and uninterrupted… quiet. The girls fell asleep a couple hours after our fill-up; they snored heavily. Their riverboat playtime seemed to have expended much pent up energy. No doubt their imaginary adventures in the dining table fort were physically and mentally taxing.

  We pulled into Billings, Montana a bit before five o’clock. The sky was darkening. It wasn’t quite twilight, but the illusion of it hung in the air. The storm clouds churning above us were oppressive; the forecast seemed bleak.

  I craned my head awkwardly and looked out the window.

  “Those clouds don’t look promising.”

  “Nope.”

  “You think it’ll be a bad storm?”

  “I don’t know, Elise. Why don’t you turn on the weather station and find out?”

  “Hardy har-har, smarty pants.”

  We’d been planning to drive all night, but I was worried the storm would impede our progress. Jason wanted to push forward. We drove around the city, pausing here and there to take more fuel from several cars.

  Dickinson had been a quaint town, proudly boasting a community of 18,000 people on a worn, blood-splattered road sign; Billings was a relative megalopolis.

  We drove around the city.

  The dark clouds above forced the city into a shadowed, uneasy repose and turned the already dim alleyways into black holes. Rain began to fall. The droplets raced down building windows. It made me feel like the city was crying, missing the hustle and bustle of human activity. Everything was depressing. In my head, I heard the whispers of hidden beasties behind skyscraper walls.

  I was seriously freaking myself out.

  We were about to head out of town, when I saw a vehicle moving slowly out of sight around a building on an adjacent street.

  “Jason! Look.” I threw my hand against his cheek and pushed his face in the direction of the car. I didn’t want him to ask me what I was yelling about and miss seeing the green sedan.

  Jason hit the gas and sped in the direction of the disappearing vehicle. We turned the corner quickly, fishtailing slightly- our wheels losing traction on the slick road. The car had parked. It felt too convenient. Jason hit the brakes, jerking the van to a stop. Megan and Kara were jolted awake, their eyes wide with sleepy confusion. I turned to them.

  “Hey, sleepy
heads. I’m going to leave the van for a minute, but Jason’s right here.” I reached into the compartment under Kara’s feet and grabbed two peanut-butter protein bars. “Hungry?”

  “Mm-hmm.” Megan nodded. Kara reached sleepily for the food. Megan opened her bar immediately and began eating. Kara just held the food in one hand and rubbed her eyes with the other; the Sandman still had a hold of her.

  The weapons duffel was at my feet and it didn’t take long for me to be out of the van with gun in hand. The rain was really falling now. My sweater did nothing to repel the wetness. Jason stayed in the car, kept it running… just in case.

  I think it went against some fundamental man gene inside of Jason- to let me, the female, brave the danger while he stayed behind. He looked conflicted; his gaze shifted from door handle to me to back to the door handle. I shook my head at him and gave him a double thumbs up. I’m okay, white knight; there’s no need to don your shiny armor or mount your trusted steed.

  I was turning to approach the green car when I saw two little faces peeking from behind Jason. Megan and Kara were straining in their seats, trying to see me. I gave them my sternest look and waved them down.

  Megan nodded, understanding. She unbuckled herself, stood, and then unbuckled Kara. They lowered out of sight. I’d only meant for the girls to sit down and stop trying to see me, but they were probably even safer kneeling on the carpeted van floor. As soon as both precious heads were out of sight, I moved- heading towards the motionless car.

  I could see two heads, both covered in dark hair. One head seemed smaller and potentially feminine. The other was a tad larger and the hair was cropped shorter. As I moved closer to the sedan, the figures continued to sit perfectly, absolutely still. That should have tipped me off.

  My sight focused on the larger of the two heads as I approached the driver’s side window. I opened my mouth to shout a warning, to tell the strangers to show me their hands. Instead, I was the one taking my finger off the trigger and laying my weapon on the wet roof of the car. I raised my hands in surrender and slowly backed away from my gun.

  Two barrels were pointing at me from the dark shadow of an alleyway. A voice- distinctly male, but too young to be an adult- told me to back up even more. I felt like an idiot. I hadn’t checked my surroundings.

  I was in a position now to see the motionless figures in the car. I lowered my eyes, looked through the window, and saw the vacant faces of two mannequins. Damn clever.

  “Back away more. I don’t want you anywhere near that gun.” Figures, obscured by the haze of rainfall, moved towards me.

  “Okay. Relax. I’m doing what you say. Take what you want, but please don’t hurt me.” I tried to keep their attention on me.

  I could see them clearly now- two people, a girl and a boy about thirteen or fourteen. The girl didn’t have a gun. She looked scared to death and soaking wet. The boy came closer to me. There was something familiar about him, something in his eyes.

  “Get down on the ground. Don’t look at me and don’t move.” I did what he said. I was grateful to my long sleeve shirt and pants as the road debris and gravel rubbed against my body. My palms rested gingerly on the damp asphalt. “Is that your van?”

  “Yes.” I said quietly. Please, please don’t let him go to the van. Then I thought of Jason and his bag full of bang-bang toys. Oh please, please go to the van you little, slime ball.

  I craned my neck upwards. I probably looked like a baby doing tummy time. I blinked rain droplets from my lashes and looked up at the boy and girl.

  “But please don’t go over there. My daughters are by themselves. Please leave them alone. Don’t scare them.”

  The girl grabbed hold of the boy’s arm. He looked at her and she shook her head. Apparently messing with kids was against her still existing moral code. But I could see I’d hooked him with my rabbit and the briar patch ruse. Reverse psychology- tell them not to do it and they will certainly do it. Typical teenager.

  The boy pulled his hand out of the girls and turned fully towards the van. He only made it several steps before his gaze found the rifle pointing squarely at him. Jason must have had the van window rolled down because I heard his commanding voice loud and clear.

  “Boy, I suggest you put down that gun before we have a misunderstanding.”

  “I’m not scared of you.” The boy walked even closer. He was a mere ten feet from the van.

  I wondered if Jason could really shoot a kid. I knew I couldn’t. Then I heard the van door open and close. My body rolled over slowly, turning to see the scene unfold.

  My eyes found Jason and the expression on his face reminded me of a man rediscovering his faith in a fallen world.

  “Michael?” His voice was so low it was barely audible. “Michael.” His voice broke, but the question was gone.

  The rifle hung limply by his side, a forgotten and needless part of him. The real missing piece of self was standing in front of him. I could see that Jason wasn’t going to be able to stand much longer. But he didn’t need to rely on himself alone; the boy’s arms were around him and supporting him, hugging him.

  They fell to the ground, kneeling, and oblivious to the rain.

  The boy just kept saying ‘dad’ over and over, again and again. Jason could say nothing at all now. He was sobbing into the boy’s matted, golden-brown hair. The girl stood by herself yards off. Her arms wrapped around her body in her own lonely embrace.

  Feeling safe again, I stood up and brushed the wet dirt and grime from my jeans. My eyes stung with unshed tears. My heart ached with a happiness that wasn’t my own, but was more tender than anything I’d felt in a long time.

  I swiped my hands through my hair, my bangs plastered against the top of my soaked head. I walked to the girl with my hands outstretched and my palms facing skyward. She shied away from my approach.

  “It’s okay. I won’t hurt you. You’re safe. What’s your name?” I tried for a soothing, soft tone.

  She looked at me for a long moment and said, “Allison.” Her voice was high pitched- tiny in her terror. I motioned and she followed me to the van. Allison walked slowly with lingering uncertainty. Her reluctance dissolved completely when Michael pulled from his father’s arms, stood up, and turned to her. He reached for her and she ran to him.

  “Dad, this is Allison. She’s with me.”

  I could tell Jason was taken aback at the adult tone to his young son’s voice.

  I had been around to protect my girls from growing up too fast. Michael had survived only by his own resourcefulness. His chin didn’t show the first roughness of hair, but his manners spoke volumes for the maturity of his person. He wasn’t Jason’s little boy anymore. Michael’s arm clung protectively around Allison’s shoulders.

  “It’s nice to meet you Allison. I’m Michael’s father, Jason.” Allison whispered hello, pushing closer to Michael’s side for assurance. I looked at this young, scared girl and I worried.

  Two more mouths to feed, two more children to protect… as if survival wasn’t hard enough.

  Un-Amusement Park

  The van’s third row seating was coming in handy.

  Although the vehicle was stuffed with humans, the conversation was not brimming over. I sat in the passenger’s seat, Jason driving. I’d offered to sit in the back, let Michael and Jason have some bonding time, but both guys seemed reluctant to get up close and personal.

  The reunion of father and son had been touching, but it was going to take work and understanding for the two to become reacquainted.

  Jason had changed. Michael had changed. They would try to connect, remember their old relationship, but each would lapse into their individual selves- the selves that still lived in a reality where Michael was murdered and Jason carried the guilt of a dead son. As long as they tried to take care of each other though, time would pass and a new bond would blossom.

  The road out of Billings was really congested.

  Jason and Michael had to park and get out several
times to push abandoned vehicles out of the way. The fourth time we stopped, the sun had fallen dangerously close to the horizon. We were entirely and ironically exposed with trees on either side- walling us in, trapping us.

  Way too many places for undergrounders to hide. They could be crouched in bushes, hunched in the back of dark and deserted cars, buried in the dirt and watching our every move.

  I had to sit on my hands to keep from biting my nails down to red, irritated stubs.

  I wasn’t the only hyperventilating girly in the van. Allison, eyes wide, stared at Michael. Her forehead wrinkled severely as if she were mentally willing Michael to move faster.

  I watched the guys maneuver a black sedan out of the road. I tried to see into the night. Darkness was a friend to our enemy. The old adage said: ‘keep your friend close and your enemy closer,’ but I sure as hell wasn’t going to get buddy-buddy with a slimy beastie. It was human for human and bump the night and the creatures of it.

  Jason and Michael were walking back to the van now. I rolled the window down slightly and loud-whispered. “Would you two please hurry up? I’m getting the real heebie-jeebies.”

  “You’re full of courage, Elise. Let me guess who your favorite Oz character is.” Jason stopped, threw up his arms, elbows bent downward in an ‘L’ shape, and hung his head. If he hadn’t just mentioned the Wizard of Oz, I wouldn’t have understood his scarecrow body language.

  “I’m cowardly, not brainless. You, on the other hand, could definitely use a visit to the wizard and the blessing of a brain. Now hurry up and get in the damn van!” The volume of my voice increased with each word. I was really creeping myself out with mental visions of a billion beasties teeming in the woods.

  My eyes shot to the rearview mirror. Both girls were awake and Megan was giving me one of her signature looks. Oops, I realized, said a naughty word.