Category : Stories
Sub Category : Science Fiction
(This was written two or three years ago. I’m posting it since I haven’t written anything lately.)“I suppose it is tempting, if the only tool you have is a hammer, to treat everything as if it were a nail.”—A. Maslow
In the not-so distant future…
3:30 pm CST
They came without warning.
It began with one. Then two. Then four.
Doubling every hour.
Two days and twenty-three hours later…
The sky is long gone.
The first ship flickered-in unnoticed by most people, including myself. I was nodding off on the couch while amateur chefs raced to complete some fancy dish I'd never heard of on TV. The blaring news alert screamed until I was wide awake. That's when I saw it. A massive black shape hovering over downtown.
I remember thinking of the cheesy Will Smith movie with the giant alien ships showing up in the sky. But these weren't as big, nor were they round or centered above any place of importance. Unless you consider the Scientology recruitment building important. I couldn't wait for them to open up and blast away that fucking place.
But they never did. Not yet, at least.
They were pitch black and triangular. When more appeared, flickering into vision like TV static as if they had come through another dimension, they were linked together. By the next morning, they covered the entire sky like the biggest jigsaw puzzle you'd ever seen. That's also when we lost Signal.
Ten years before, we had done away with all landlines. Most houses I'd been to still had one, but the phones were now nothing more than nostalgic decoration—a reminder of how far we've come as a society. We relied heavily on the Signal, which we now call it.
The Signal shutting down wasn't a big deal to me. Yet, others began to panic. It was a few hours after when complete chaos took over. As far as everyone in our neighborhood knew, the entire planet had lost power. It had already been dark outside without a damn sky but now we couldn't see more than a few feet in front of us.
Right now, I've barricaded myself in my room, with a flashlight, batteries, and my Dad's 9mm. Every door and window are locked, except for the one I gaze out of, eyes frozen in shock to the nonstop horror outside.
It used to be just me and my Dad. But after the first four ships appeared, he took off to get whatever supplies he could get in order to see this through. Or, whatever he could fit into his tiny electric car.
He still hasn't returned.
Once I started hearing what sounded like gunshots or fireworks or whatever the hell they were, I locked the doors and moved every piece of furniture in the house to block each entrance. I had even boarded the windows. All except this one window in front of me, in case I saw Dad made it back. I don't know how long it's been, but from what I've seen and heard through the window, I've already started accepting that maybe he never will.
Before Signal was lost, I was glued to the TV, watching city after city become taken over by its inhabitants. I watched how quickly humans can become nothing but animals trying to survive. There are no police either. They must've given up and gone home to their families. And the ones without, don't stand a chance against the crazy looters and riots.
The life I knew from just days ago, is gone. This is how it all ends.
* * * *
I don't know how long it's been.
I'm scared to death.
And I can hear someone or something rummaging through my house.
I think about my parents and grandma. I miss them so much. I want to be with them, wherever they are. My dad's gun had been clenched In my hand for so long I'd forgotten about it. Whoever is inside is furiously knocking furniture over. As I stare down at the gun, something wet falls from my face and lands on the barrel.
It's the first time I've cried since all of this began.
The door to my room rattles back and forth. I close my eyes. Loud bangs pierce my ears as whoever it is pounds on the door. I raise the gun until I can feel the cold barrel against my temple. I let out a whimper and—
What sounds like the thunder of a hundred strikes of lightning shakes the entire house. It echoes throughout my head along with a ringing in my ears. In the corner of my eye, I see my door fling open. Without a second thought, immediately I aim the gun and fire in that direction.
Whoever it is, is no longer there.
* * * *
I can't move.
I can't hear a thing.
I think it's been about an hour since that enormous sound that came from the sky. It's complete silence. No life.
Something catches my attention out through the window. It's a… a ray of… of sunlight!
The black ships in the sky begin flickering away one at a time at a rapid pace. When my neighborhood is illuminated once again, the power returns. I smile.
I close my eyes, exhausted from the constant worrying. I could sleep forever. The ringing in my ears fades away, but there's another one different from the other. It's a familiar sound that I can't yet recognize. Lifting my head up and off the wall helps me hear it's not in my head. The sound is coming from the other room.
"The damn TV…" I say to myself.
I remember watching it while the power went out. I don't remember having it so loud, though.
I try to stand up but nearly fall. I grab onto the window sill to hold myself up. And that's when I see him. A man on the ground in the doorway, bleeding profusely. The blood still leaking from the gun shot in his chest. There's also dried blood on his throat which is covered with red-stained duct-tape. I begin to wonder what that's about until I recognize who it is—
It's my Dad.
* * * *
An entire night had come and gone when the news reporters returned with new information:
"To whoever is still out there alive. We have survived." There's a long pause before the reporter speaks again.
"Whatever these ships were and whoever was behind them, we owe our lives to. An undetected comet nearly the size of Wyoming was nearing our atmosphere. It's impact would've caused a near extinction to this side of the world and would've sent twenty-story tidal waves in every direction. These ships absorbed the impact of the comet, saving our lives. Or, rather, the lives of whoever is left…"