Chapter 7

"Hey Stokes, something's up with my foster parents."

I had decided to call Stokely the instant I reached my room. Maybe she could give me some heads up on the situation.

"So's my dad." Her voice sounded faint, distant. Must've been the storm. Wind lashed at the bedroom window, pelting heavy rain against the glass pane. Outside, the sky was dark with thick, congested clouds. Lightning flashed intermittently accompanied by the rumble of thunder.

"Its like they're completely different people," I continued. "You don't think-"

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

"Just a second!" I called out. To the receiver, I hissed, "They're here! What do I do?!"

"Stall them or something. I'm gonna call Stan's cell ph-"

The door opened. I put down the phone before I heard the rest of Stokely's sentence and swiveled in my chair.

My foster parents entered the room. There was a strange, intense look in their flat eyes.

"Ann, dear. You know we only want what's best for you..." Mr Harrison began. He slowly advanced.

I stood and slowly backed off. "Uh-huh..." I wondered where they were going with all this.

"We haven't exactly been the best of parents," Mrs Harrison continued, moving to stand beside her husband. "But all that is going to change. We understand that now."

"Listen, I don't know what's gotten into the two of you. But if you have something important to tell me, then you'd mind as well go ahead and say it. I can handle it."

"Yes, we believe you can." Mr Harrison repeated.

They sprang.

Mrs Harrison grabbed my arms in a vice-like hold and pinned them behind me. I screamed, struggling and kicking. I hit her knee-cap and she released me suddenly. I fell forward onto my hands and knees on the floor. They loomed over me, reaching out. Gasping, I rolled, coming up to my feet.

"Mrs Harrison! Mr Harrison!"

"Don't make this any harder than it has to be, girl," my foster dad growled. He grabbed my shoulders and forced me back onto the bed.

"Please!" I screamed, panic choking my throat. I kicked out at his groin. He let go. Rolling, I grabbed a photo-frame off my desk and hurled it at them. They ducked and came at me again.

Mrs Harrison held me down while her husband leaned over me. He opened his mouth wide, and something grey and slimy began to emerge from his mouth.

I screamed and tried to push him away, but he was like an implacable machine. An alien.

"No!!!" I was sobbing in horror. "Please!!" This wasn't happening, it couldn't be!

All of a sudden, something plowed into him from the side. It was Stan. He crash-tackled my foster dad to the floor in a rolling heap. In stunned surprise, I watched as Casey and Delilah shoved my foster mom into the closet and slammed the door.

"Ann," Zeke took my hand and pulled me up.

Stan snatched the quilt off the bed to wrap Mr Harrison up in it. Zeke bent down to help him. Meanwhile, Casey had his back pressed against the closet while Delilah dragged over the desk.

"Now let's get the fuck out of here." Stan jumped up and made for the door.

There were muffled snarls from the quilt, and the trapped Mrs Harrison was banging violently against the closet door.

We didn't hesitate. Hurrying out the room, we pelted down the staircase two steps at a time, hitting the front door at a run. Zeke had left the GTO idling by the kerb. We jumped in. Zeke slammed the car into gear and floored the pedal. The GTO shot forward, and we roared down the road, tires screeching in the stormy night.