But it was fact:
That at the beginning of our world, when some of the creatures climbed out of the primordial waters and became bipedal and human, others climbed out and scurried down a proverbial rabbit hole. And that rabbit hole bred another species of humanoids-the most dexterous quadrupeds on the planet, eerily efficient and highly adaptive once confronted.
The TV news reports-not that we'd seen many of them before everything went to hell and we'd run for our lives-had said that it only took moments for these hyper-intelligent, blood-thirsty beasts to understand our weapons, our thinking, our responses.
A while back, we'd hit an area in one state that was still broadcasting information for survivors. Tidbits of information that might help one survive if confronted. It was all stupid shit. Like-their eyesight still seems poor, stay motionless if you come in contact with one. Or-they're still avoiding sunlight, so stay indoors at night. But then the person on the radio had also said: "This is all a guide. We can't guarantee this information. These monsters are quickly adapting. They're unpredictable. There have been sightings in daylight."
My pulse raced a bit faster thinking back to those words of warning. Unpredictable things scared the shit out of me. I used to have a schedule. A calendar. A life I could anticipate.
"Did you re-cover the bucket?" I glance into the mirror, catch sight of my daughter as she's making her way back to her seat.
"Yep." Her fingers nimbly work to latch her buckle.
"Make sure it closed tight?"
"Yep." Megan bent over and grabbed a small, hardback book off the van floor. It was ratty, weathered, and her favorite. A relic from a different life. I'm glad she has the small lifeline to the peaceful past.
I nodded, but her eyes were already devouring words on paper and getting lost in the story. Glancing to the opposite side of the van, I watched my little one.
Kara was still drooped limply in her seat, clutching a love-worn stuffed animal. It was wonderful that Kara could sleep like it was before and not now.
I'm positive that I will never sleep soundly again. My mind is constantly bombarded with unsettling images. And I have killed. That blood stains my hands. Even though I have killed for the right reasons and those I have killed were monsters, it is still a reality that haunts me.
Four. I'd killed four beasties so far to keep my girls alive. I had no doubt I'd kill more in the future. Each time was harder and I always came away a bit worse for the wear. Adaption. Prediction. Each time I faced one, it was like the knowledge of how I'd killed previously had been passed along to the other monsters.
There was a term for that... I grasped for it, the word zapping about my mouth refusing to settle on my tongue; I gave up after only a few seconds of trying to pull the word forcibly from my mind.
I was too exhausted to dredge up the knowledge. I always felt too exhausted. For anything.
A soft sigh told me that Kara was teetering on the edge of wakefulness. Her short arms stretched to the ceiling as her small mouth gaped open at a slant. It was one of those care bear yawns that made me melt. I'd do anything to keep her and Megan alive.
Anything.
But when the enemy knows you better than you know them, what chance do you have of winning?
Late morning. Kara is awake. Megan is reading out loud, her lovely voice filling the inside of the vehicle. It surrounds me and helps me keep driving. God, I love her voice.
The world was clued in because people started disappearing. At first, when it was only a few at a time, the police were able to explain the incidents away with press conferences, official-sounding sentences, and minimized news coverage. Then the day came when hundreds were reported missing. Hundreds within a matter of hours. And that was just in our county.
David had told me that the station phone rang perpetually that day. By the end of his shift, the grand total of missing persons was up to four hundred and fifty-three.
Then the beasties let themselves be more daring—coming out in groups, murdering with a more devil-may-care attitude. They'd learned our ways; they were prepared. That was when we had witnesses; that was when we finally understood what the hell was happening.
At that moment, I saw a form stretched across the pavement. Depressing the brakes to slow me down, I drove carefully around it. I didn't see human bodies often, but when I did, they were like vicious slaps to my psyche. My response was to be respectful, to remember my humanity, to not let my desperation to survive outweigh the reality that this person fought and lost their battle.
The undergrounders only left the occasional corpse in their wake, it seemed they still preferred to take their killings back home and hide them away.
No one knew why.
Noon. Nothing to eat. Kara is crying. Megan is rubbing her shoulder. I have to find more food, food that doesn't have to be cooked. I can't always stop.
The now-exposed tunnel systems were expansive and dark. When brave souls descended, they followed the deep pathways downward until they finally reached abandoned cavern rooms, signs of simple living, primitive fields of strange plants, and irrigation fields fed from dark, glassy lakes. Vernians felt validated; their idol's vision realized on a grand scale. It was amazing that the underground society hadn't been discovered earlier. Then again maybe it had, and the undergrounders were smart enough to hide further down towards the belly of the planet and remain undiscovered-until they chose to reveal themselves. In the bloodiest way possible.
The existence of the beasties made me feel small and vulnerable. And I wasn't alone in this sentiment. We were being attacked, not by aliens, but by domestics. Our own planet was betraying us with an alternate version of ourselves.
The human race was in a race for its life.
So many were dead. So, so many.
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Red Eye | Season 1 | Episode 4 Page 10