Disclaimer: I do not own "Falling Skies" no matter how much I wish I did.
Two: The Answer
"I am not bound to please thee with my answer." - William Shakespeare
Hal…
"What's up man?" Eddie asked the moment I walked into the classroom, passing by our teach Mr. Bateman who looked less than thrilled to see me. I assumed he was still a little touchy over my comment in class last week or the week before, or maybe it was just his general sneer of displeasure at my attendance. If he wouldn't keep giving me detentions for ditching, I wouldn't keep coming.
"Nothing," I shrugged, trying to catch Rita's attention from her chair two tables in front of me.
"Hi," She said coolly as if we had never met before. The girl practically jumped on me for the last three weeks, so I finally go out with the headcase only to have her freak after the lights flicker. Where was the justice in the world?
"Hi?" Eddie repeated with his jaw slightly dropped open and whispering to me as Mr. Bateman started gabbing about pre-SATs and how they were the pinnacle of our junior year of high school. "What the hell happened this weekend man? I thought you were going to…seal the deal?"
I rolled my eyes and slouched in my chair, scratching doodles on my paper, "Barely even had her set up when the damn lights went out."
"Ah sh—" Eddie stopped short and leaned away from me across our shared table as Mr. Bateman gave us both a look.
"So I think," I whisper, hiding my face behind my hand as nonchalantly as possible. "I can use this to my advantage. She's scared and everything, but the girl screams because she thinks our house is haunted…"
"…Doesn't she know this is suburbia not damn Salem or something…"
"…and Ben comes falling down the stairs, and she gets all flustered and runs out of the house..."
"Seriously?"
"It gets better," I smirked in dismay, and Eddie looks at me wide-eyed. "Ben and I see the UFOs on the news and decide to go up the hill to see for ourselves, and Mom and Dad catch us. Mattie gets a first class tuck into bed for leaving a mess in the kitchen while I get grounded for as long as the aliens are here—oh Ben too…and the banshee left her bra on our living room floor that my dad found…"
"Bra…nice!" Eddie smiles and nods his approval.
"That's all you heard in the last a minute isn't it?"
"Yada yada UFOS, grounded BS…what happened to the bra?" He nudged me and grins like a Cheshire cat again.
I snorted and laughed, "Dad shoved it into my lacrosse bag and told me to return it."
"You're not really going to?"
"Nah, I ditched it in a dumpster behind St. Paul's on the walk to school."
"St. Paul's?" Eddie laughed. "Man you're going to get some nun expelled...but why were you walking?"
"It's episcopal…" I shook my head, and he stared at me like I had grown three heads. "Anyways, part of my punishment is no car in addition to no cell phone or hanging out..."
I smiled happily as I thought of Ben who had been banned from his precious video games and comic books. The kid had looked like someone kicked his puppy. He was more miserable than me probably. At least, he had been on the weekend. Besides, without his comic books what was he going to do at lunch? He didn't have any friends unless you counted those weird kids that he went to the arcade with; I didn't.
"Tough breaks man," Eddie sighed.
"Mason, Stiegel—this is the last time. Either close your mouths or get out!" Mr. Bateman bellowed as the entire class turned to us.
Eddie and I shared a look, considering the ramifications of walking out of class. We had done it before, and I still had the ringing of Mom's yells in my ears to prove it. The thought of Dad's two-hour lecture on responsibility only assured me that walking out of class was not going to be the better of the two options. Rolling my eyes, I turned back to my doodles as Eddie picked at the scotch tape on his desktop. Mr. Bateman seemed satisfied enough that we had stopped talking, not caring if we shriveled up and died in our back row seats so long as we didn't interrupt him.
My doodles had morphed into a scene. Little squatty buildings were in a line across the page with leaner buildings filled with windows breaking the monotony. I had done this skyline before, but this time there was a difference. Space ships dotted the sky—bulbous, threatening, and just as quiet on my sheet of notebook paper as they were in real life. Three days after entering Earth's atmosphere and they were still clammed up. What was crazy was the reaction of people.
Everything you found on TV, radio, or the internet was concerned with the aliens' arrival. The president made an address twice a day now with updates, and the only thing broadcasted on any station, from kids' networks to the main networks, was news bulletins. The whole family had gone to the grocery store after church on Sunday only to find the place picked over. Not to mention, neighbors were packing their cars and heading for the hills.
Even now, out of my class of twenty-six, fifteen of us were present, and two of my morning classes had converged in the auditorium for movies because our teachers had been no-shows. To be honest, I wasn't sure if I was supposed to thank the aliens or not for that one. I wouldn't thank them for making Mom hysterical, more than general that is, as she seemed on edge with Dad trying in vain to assure her that everything was okay. Even Dad was acting peculiar, suddenly tinkering on the dirt bikes that Ben and I had used to run wild on back in middle school when we went camping as a family.
"Mason could you at least pretend to pay attention?" Mr. Bateman huffed, and I pulled my attention away from the doodle.
"Um…the answer's 1812," I guessed, trying to remember what time period we were in in American Studies.
If only I had thought to remember that Mr. Bateman was my English literature teacher, he wouldn't be fuming now with the class laughing raucously as I played off my answer with a half-hearted shrug.
"Get out of my class!" He ordered, pointing at the door where I was surprised to see Ben standing awkwardly with his backpack on his shoulder. I grabbed my backpack and threw a confused glance to Ben. "Seriously get out of my class…your mother is here to pick you up….better late than never." I heard him mutter the latter part under his breath as the door closed behind Ben and me.
"Don't ever come to my class again," I ordered, stalking by him towards the main offices.
"Trust me," Ben rolled his eyes, and I was tempted to slap the back of his head so that was his permanent expression. "It wasn't my idea. Miss Henagar sent me to get you while Mom signed us out."
"Yeah, why's she here?"
Ben shrugged, "I don't know. Matt's already with her."
"Great," I remarked. "Nothing like being signed out of school by your mommy."
"Whatever," The kid barreled passed me as he purposely hit me with his backpack. There was four feet of wide open hallway on either side of me, and the punk decides to run into me.
"Hurry, hurry, let's go," Mom said urgently, pushing us out of the main office that we were just beginning to enter.
Mom had Matt by the hand, and we followed in her wake as we practically jogged to keep up. Poor Matt was getting more exercise than he ever got in peewee lacrosse practice.
"Mommy what are we doing?" Matt asked as we got into the car that I was surprised to find she had parked in the fire lane without care.
"We're going to Grandpa and Grandma's," She informed us as she revved the engine to life. "We have to go home and pack a few things first though sweetie."
"Why?" Matt whined. Mom hesitated as we pulled into traffic, and I looked to her. She only gulped and glanced away as she tried to put on a false smile for Matt.
"You remember your Aunt Carol?" Of course, we remembered Mom's first cousin that had married the marine and was stationed in Hong Kong presently. She was the one who dressed Ben and me up as dolls when we were little, being only a few years older than me, and I still shuddered at the thought of myself wearing bows in my hair and one of her doll's dress. I was short for my age when I was four.
"Yeah, is she coming to visit?"
"No baby, um…Aunt Carol sent me an email this morning…shit!" Mom screamed as the SUV screeched to a halt at the stop sign.
"Mom, are you okay?" Ben asked before I could. I wondered if he could see the tears glazing over her eyes from his spot next to Matt in the back seat.
"I'm fine," She chirped, waving to the pedestrian who gave her a dirty look as he crossed the street. "Anyways, your Aunt Carol's email said something very…very disconcerting…there's been power outages in many of the cities where the crafts are stationed over. It's not just power though. Everything has just stopped…"
"What do you mean everything?" I asked.
"Electricity went out, cars have stopped working, phones—landlines and cellphones aren't working," She exhaled loudly. "It's spreading."
"Spreading?"
"From the cities outwards," She nodded as we turned onto our street. "I tried emailing Aunt Carol back, but the email declined. I called your dad, and he says the university has cancelled classes…even the public schools were about to be closed down…"
"How far is this covering?" Ben asked, leaning forward as we pulled into the garage.
Mom parked the car as she turned in her seat with a grave face as she looked between Ben, Matt, and me, "The news said that they haven't been able to get in touch with any countries outside of North and South America for the last hour."
"What?" I asked dumbfounded.
"Is it gonna happen here?" Matt croaked, and I could see the budding tears of fear leak down his face one-by-one as he launched himself from his chair towards Mom.
"I don't know sweetie," She cooed, stroking his hair that blended seamlessly into hers. "Let's go inside and pack pumpkin okay." He nodded, and Mom gave Ben and me the worst poker face for cheerfulness I had ever seen.
"You think something's going to happen?" Ben asked after we had sat silently, still buckled in our seats for a good minute or two.
"Something already did," I spat. Had he not been paying attention?
"No, I mean…something really bad," I turned to face him, finding him staring at the radio that despite being on was nothing but a soft purr of static. I hadn't even realized it was on.
"Like?"
He shrugged, picking at the threading on my chair, "If these crafts can cause a worldwide blackout—wipe out our greatest weapon…our technology…what more could they do?"
What more could they do? I didn't respond to my kid brother's question. Instead, I left the question lingering in his mind and now mine as we packed our bags, emptying our pantry of canned goods and boxed food as well as filling jugs with water. Mom had us pack bags of clothes along with flashlights and candles. Matches were shoved in with toothpaste and floss, and medications were tossed into plastic bags without care or thought for what they were. We had everything from ibuprofen to bug spray.
What more could they do? Whatever they could do didn't happen in the hour that Mom had informed us we had before we left for Webster. It didn't happen as we pulled out of the drive either, and I was beginning to doubt anything was going to happen. This was all just a domestic issue most likely—some country's way of scaring the shit out of everyone else. It was elaborate and had done the trick. Hell, maybe it was even us; I didn't know. So what nothing worked? We'd go a few days without cell phones or cars. I was grounded from those anyways, and I smirked triumphantly out the window a ways down the road as the Boston skyline faded behind us.
"Did you see that!"
"Did you see that!"
Matt and Ben yelled suddenly, and I didn't have time to register their exclamations as the ground shook. The SUV rocked back and forth like a boat on the rapids for a moment when I saw the craft whirl passed us in a flash of blue light. Another craft flew by with such force that it rocked the car again, and the car sloshed around like dead weight just as every other car around us did on the packed highway that was bumper-to-bumper. The highway that should have been filled with running cars was now packed with heaps of worthless metal, and Mom anxiously kept trying to turn her cell phone on without avail.
Then it happened, the crafts dropped something—grey confetti far in the distance. The confetti floated to the ground where it promptly ignited the highway. Cars exploded, and people raced from their cars in panic, running back down the highway to Boston and scattering into the tree lines. Was this what had happened everywhere already? The crafts had woken up and reigned hell upon everyone, and I knew that was the truth as the confetti continued to fall, getting closer with each breath.
"Mom?" I gulped, unbuckling my seatbelt and getting out of the car. Matt and Ben were following my movement.
"It won't work…damn it…damn it!" She cried, tossing the phone to the car floor as she scurried out of the car.
Boston or the woods were our only two choices. As we shuffled through the cars and ran into people, I knew which way Mom wanted to go, but it wasn't the best option. No doodle could do justice to the atrocities being committed over Boston. Thick black smoke rose so high now that the blue sky was blotted out, and the confetti continued falling in every direction I could see. Screams filled the air like a thunderous applause that was millions of people strong.
"W-we have to-to go to the woods," I said, wiping at the wetness on my face and trying not to associate my dad with the confetti that I knew but didn't want to admit were blue, effervescent bombs. It felt like a brick was dropped onto my chest.
Mom nodded her consent, wrenching Matt's arm from his socket, and the kid didn't seem to care. There was no whine in him for the first time in his life. There were only silent tears running down his face as his little chin wobbled in time to the explosions. He was too slow though as the confetti was falling fast, closing in around us, and I scooped him up as we hit the tree line. Throwing him over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes, I kept running and following Ben who was now in front of me.
"Where am I going? Where am I going?" Ben croaked like a repeated record, looking frantically backwards to Mom and me. His chest heaved up and down rapidly to his body shuddering.
"Just keep going straight sweetheart," Mom replied, and simply hearing her voice calmed Ben down. Matt settled his crying into my neck as well.
Somewhere in our run, Mom must have gathered herself, and I was thankful because I didn't know what to tell him. Mom was the one that was supposed to tell us what to do anyways. She was the one who ordered us to clean our bedrooms, leave the toilet seat down, and not to hit each other—at least not often. She was the one who washed the grass stains out of my jerseys and the Gatorade stains from Ben's. She was the one who kept us from murdering one another every other day.
We kept running, and the plod of my steps on the soft ground fell rhythmically after a while. It was more consistent than my heartbeat that remained rapidly flooring it as the bombs echoed in the distance. Yet, even that too drifted away like a bad dream. We still choked on smoke, but we had lost sight of crafts. We had even lost sight of the people that had flooded into the woods along with us. Not bothering to ask, I dropped Matt onto the ground presumptuously, and Ben and Mom stopped as well.
"You get heavy after a bit kid," I laughed, and the edges of Matt's mouth flicked up briefly, not daring to smile.
"We should stop for a minute," Mom agreed, coaxing Matt and Ben to sit down beside me. "We've been running for a long time."
Matt instantly leaned into Mom, and she tucked an arm around him. I was jealous that I couldn't do the same. She gave Ben and me a withering smile.
"What time is it?" I asked, looking at wrists for watches.
"Two-fifty," Matt replied promptly, being the only one wearing a watch. Had it been any other day I would have laughed that it was the digital watch Ben gave him for Christmas with anime characters embellishing the bright blue cuff.
"Two-fifty? No that can't be," Mom asked, leaning over to look at Matt's watch. "It stopped."
"Electricity, cars, watches—this is insane," I commented to the ground.
"How are we going to call dad to make sure he's okay?" Matt asked anxiously, craning his head to see Mom.
"As soon as we find a working phone, we'll call him. Don't worry sweetie," Mom smiled slightly.
We sat in silence then, listening to the wind and our own breathing. I thought about how glad I was that I hadn't skipped that day like I had briefly thought of on the way to school. I thought of being blown to pieces at lacrosse practice, and I vaguely wondered if Eddie had made it that far. Was he dead? My heart skipped a beat, and I felt the bile collect in my stomach as I thought of Dad again. Had he made it to the highway just an hour behind us like Mom had said?
He had to stay and help evacuate the campus, checking classrooms and locking rooms. I wasn't the type to pray, but I sent a silent prayer that he had made it to the highway and was not still in Boston. No, I amended. I hoped he had made it to a safe part of the highway. I selfishly hoped he hadn't been anywhere near the explosions that were a million times more sickening in person than on any action movie.
I pressed my hands to my temples to not think of the people that fell dead in our wake, and I wondered if we were the only ones left alive. Was everyone in the world dead? Was this the apocalypse? I didn't understand. All I wanted was to understand, but of course, a person should always be careful for what they wish for.
We got up then, walking straightforward for a few minutes until we spilled out into the road. We hesitated, looking both ways. We had walked in a circle; I noticed instantly, recognizing the blue convertible that had been car lengths in front of us. I had spent the last ten minutes staring at the car menacingly, daring it to move along with all the others. Mom covered Matt's eyes as we walked down the tree line towards Mom's car, shielding him from the fires, dead people, and charred cars.
Devastation was the only word I could think to summarize the highway, and seeing everything so quiet, I was confused as to whether it was a good thing or not. There were no crafts dropping bombs, and hesitatingly, Mom placed Matt's hand in mine as the car came into sight. She looked both ways like crossing the street.
"I'm going to get the phone just in case and some water," Mom said, facing Ben and me with a stern expression. "We'll wait out in the woods a bit till we figure out how to get Daddy. Okay?" She smiled at Matt and kissed his head.
"Kay," He nodded, and I could feel his clammy hand squirm in mine.
"You want me to go with you?" Ben asked, biting his lip and eyeing the road warily.
"It's fifty feet," Mom scoffed, kissing his cheek before lightly pushing his back and mine until we were another few feet into the woods. Our car was only seen through the curtain of leaves and bramble, and the three of us hunched down as we watched her carefully walk away, slipping through passed cars.
Everything seemed fine, but then Ben jumped.
"There's something down there!" Ben said, pointing to the right and craning his head around the bush.
Matt and I followed suit. There was a scuttle sound approaching like crabs on a plank of wood, but this scuttle was getting louder—closer. Something was coming, emerging out of the gray gaze. I looked to Mom, and she was searching the bottom of the car floor for the phone she had dropped. She needed to move. Whatever it was she was right in its path, but before I could think to scream, I saw it. I saw them.
Spiderlike monsters were crawling down the highway as they crushed cars like they were pebbles. There were at least a hundred, and they were brown, sickeningly brown. I watched one walk right over the blue convertible, stopping only to pull someone who had been crouching inside out. The man screamed at the top of his lungs before the spider claimed the man's throat. It only took a second, and the man fell limp and lifelessly into his car.
"Boys!" Mom shouted as she emerged from the car. "Boys!"
"No, no, no, no, no," I whispered and shoved Matt into Ben's lap as I went to grab her from the road, but it was too late.
I couldn't help but watch, paying more attention in this brief moment than I had in my entire life as the spiders heard her scream and saw her appearance in the road. Life was suspended in that moment as Mom looked at me for just a moment before the spiders overwhelmed her. It was then that I knew the answer to Ben's question. What more could they do? They could drop bombs like confetti. They could kill people by the masses and devastate highways and cites. They could send us fleeing into the woods for hours only to come back to where it all began.
And with one twist of their slender, threatening hands, they could snap a woman's neck without hesitation.