Chapter 1
The Day After
January 25, 2017, 6:59 AM
Montana, United States of America
A dark haired girl wearing a white dress stared into the abyss, innocence being the paper thin defense that kept her from understanding the sheer danger she was in as a voice she could not understand spoke to her.
Who are you?
Why are you here?
Do you know me?
Will you save me?
She winced, confused as she realized the words were her own.
Upon not receiving a response, she looked around, becoming more confused as she took in her surroundings.
There were beautiful fields of green and several mountains in the distance, a road snaking its way through it all, signs stuck from it, and she seemed to recognize them, but she didn't know why or how.
Had she been there before?
She felt nothing of the grass beneath her feet as she walked towards what appeared to be a town in the distance. She noticed the road heading into it, a single car leaving the small area.
Whoever drove it paid her no mind.
She glanced behind her, wondering what had happened to the never ending darkness behind her, the one that spoke in ways she couldn't understand, but saw nothing but fields.
Frustrated, and now a little frightened, she glanced at a green sign that had words she seemed to understand.
Exit 397, Sweetgrass
She blinked, feeling something deep within her.
Dread.
Dread unlike anything she had experienced. Had she experienced anything before? She must have if she knew what the feeling was, right?
She still didn't feel the grass beneath her feet or the gravel of the road as she ran into the town as the sun began to climb into the sky like it would any other day.
…
*It is now seven o clock.*
Much to his annoyance, the robotic, emotionless voice of his alarm came on right on time, reminding him that he needed to get out of bed and continue his existence.
The florescent light bulb above him was on, illuminating his tired features, which also annoyed him, but he flipped it back off immediately.
He grabbed his phone, a somewhat new Samsung model, and checked the time.
He cursed under his breath as he got up and moved to his closet.
Taking off his shirt, he felt his phone buzz an alert.
Somewhat curious, he moved to inspect it.
A standard news alert warned about being cautious on the roads stared back at his pale face.
He didn't react, placing his phone down on the small desk and heading to the bathroom, walking past several family photos of a grown man and himself.
One quick shower later and he was in the kitchen, grabbing some corn flakes and flipping on the TV in the living room, mostly to have some noise in the background but also to have some information.
The television flipped on to nothing but static and dead air.
He flipped through the empty channels, eventually landing on CNN, a white haired reporter recapping the previous night's events.
"Scientists are still unsure what caused the atmospheric phenomenon last night, but we can officially say that power is back on across most of the United States. Whatever this phenomenon was, it seems to have only temporarily affected electricity and communications, though contact has yet to be fully reestablished across parts of the country as well as with other nations as communications seem to have been affected as well. No word on the situation from the federal or even state governments, but until further notice we are advising our viewers to exert caution as they head out today."
The young man was surprised that CNN was, in fact, talking about something other than the newly elected American president.
Maybe the world really is coming to an end…
He shrugged off the mysterious situation that had engulfed the world less than twelve hours prior and headed out the door, shutting off the TV on his way out.
Unfortunately for the seventeen year old, school had to continue, end of the world or not.
He glanced briefly at the blue flag that hung together with Old Glory on the front of his porch, the word Montana written on it, as he continued walking to the relatively small school in the border town.
A few people were outside, chatting.
He ignored them, and kept walking, placing some ear buds on his ears in order to drown out the noise of the outside world, planning on doing so with already downloaded music.
Just as he was about to grab his phone, it buzzed with a text message.
Dad…
He read it over.
"Derrick, I got called to give some help at customs, had to leave early, may be gone until later than usual. School's canceled for today, so stay home and study whatever you need to, left you some money for takeout in case I can't get off by lunch time. Don't get into any trouble, okay? ;)"
Derrick cringed at the semi colon and brackets that his father had typed in order to try and make a smiley face, but felt genuine anger when his phone buzzed again, this time from a number that wasn't added in his contacts, but he knew all too well.
"You either apologize to Ramirez or the school won't let you graduate."
The phone buzzed again, as if it was receiving all the messages that were sent earlier in the day just that second.
7:22 AM: Unknown- Did you get my text?
7:22 AM: Unknown- Derrick?
7:22 AM: Unknown- HEY!
7:22 AM: DE- Due to the ongoing emergency, all schools in the following counties will remain closed until further notice: Lincoln, Flathead, Glacier, Toole, Liberty, Hill, Blaine, Phillips, Valley, Daniels, and Sheridan. More information to follow.
7:22 AM: Unknown- I swear that if you don't apologize TODAY, you will regret it!
7:22 AM: Unknown-School is canceled, but I don't care if you have to drive over here, you ARE apologizing!
7:22 AM: Unknown- Do not ignore me!
He felt like his phone would break if he kept staring at it, so instead he went to turn it off when-
7:23 AM: EAS- This is an emergency alert for all residents situated near the United States-Canada border. Stay indoors, and await further instructions. Keep a radio and emergency supplies on hand. More details to follow.
Derrick stopped walking and stared at the message.
He had never gotten a message from that number, let alone one that had such an official look to it.
Normally, he would have probably dismissed it as a prank, but one glance at the worried neighbors on the street told him all he needed to know.
They were looking at their phones, too, worry lining their faces.
This wasn't a simple one off prank.
He whirled around and headed back home, opening the list of contacts on his phone, and immediately tried calling his father.
He heard the typical ringing, but no reply came. Derrick got to the door, opening it and stepping inside, dialing his father yet again. Two rings, and noise could suddenly be heard on the other end. It sounded like men arguing for a second before heavy breathing filled his ears.
"Hey, Dad? You okay?" he asked.
A startled yelp came and the call abruptly ended.
He blinked, staring at his phone as he closed the door behind him.
Unsure of what to do next, Derrick locked the door and did the only thing a young man his age could think of, connect online and check the news.
The internet was back on, and it only took him a second to connect.
All Google News was talking about was the activation of the emergency alert system, an apparently experimental system that would allow the government to send an alert to civilian cell phones in case of a nationwide emergency.
The question was just what emergency had arisen for it to be activated despite still being in its experimental stages.
The weather outside was fine, power had gone out the previous night, but it had come back on in the morning and it was still on. The ground hadn't shaken and he wasn't seeing anyone outside dropping dead. The sun wasn't setting everything on fire, there weren't any locusts devouring everything green, and the water on his cup hadn't turned into blood. He checked the water faucet. Water was working fine as well.
Seeking information, he went directly to news sites then, and his heart sank the second he typed "news" into the search engine, the first article of breaking news disturbingly stared back at him with a silent urgency.
"Five states confirm attacks from unknown enemy across the US-Canada border."
For the briefest second, Derrick genuinely wondered if some insane faction of Canadians had decided to attack border towns for some reason or another, but changed his mind as he noticed the images of the attackers.
One came from a security camera in what the blurb below called a gas station in Franklin, Vermont.
A young man with an ancient looking rifle that appeared to have a sword attached to it, not a bayonet, an actual long sword, had shattered the glass before entering through the broken window, the brief flash and sudden smoke indicated he had fired into a corner, probably trying to shoot the cashier, before looking around for a second and leaving the way he came.
The uniform was a combination of clothes that appeared to have been put together with little to no cohesion.
One glance would certainly tell anyone that man on camera was a soldier, but… what appeared to be body armor seemed to be made out of chainmail, reflective and scaly, but that was it for body armor.
A type of trench coat covered the soldier, and Derrick couldn't see much of any indicators of a nationality, except for the fact that the soldier was arguably as pale as he was if not more so.
He glanced around, going into the ABC news site.
He had to read the news out loud to believe it.
"Unknown aircraft have launched an attack on New York City, live updates... What the hell?"
There was footage of what appeared to be old, piston engine aircraft that flew low over the buildings, slow enough to get good pictures even. No picture showed any identifiable sign of nationality or origin except a sword painted on the body of the plane.
One appeared to drop a bomb on Times Square.
There was footage, as smoke erupted and people ran, Derrick felt sick to his stomach.
What the hell is going on?!
He felt an icy chill run up his spine as he heard police sirens in the distance.
Not sure what else to do, he flipped the TV on and sat on the edge of the couch, praying for this to all be a complex terrorist attack and not whatever alternative there might have been.
The same reporter now looked somewhat disheveled despite not a hair being out of place, just appearing physically exhausted.
"C-contact has yet to be established with the Canadian government, a-at least according to our sources..."
The man swallowed, taking a deep breath before continuing.
"The President has yet to address the nation, and officials are scrambling t-to remind everyone not to panic… we… we can confirm the Air Wings of the National Guard and US Air Force are being activated… I… we have just received word that all reserve personnel in the National Guard are to report to their posts immediately, anyone not essential to emergency services is ordered to stay indoors, specifically if you are part of a border town. We have no information on the casualties, but… footage is coming in from… from Niagara Falls State Park. Yeah, go to it."
The camera cut to the most disturbing image the teenager had seen in his short life on any news site.
He had been young but he distinctly remembered the Boston Bombings.
He had remembered the many violent riots in the previous years over police shootings, some justified and some not, but the results had been the same.
He had seen plenty of images of the September 11 attacks, terrorism across the world, the Paris attacks of 2015, images from the Battle of Aleppo, read about natural disasters like the Haiti earthquake and results of radiation poisoning ranging from the atomic bombs dropped on Japan to the nuclear disaster in Ukraine, he had seen murders on the news and horrifically close to home.
But what he saw on screen was downright alien to him, leaving him unable to do anything more than look at the incomprehensible footage.
There was no cohesive dialogue in the video, just a few visibly shaken people pointing while rapidly talking amongst themselves, perhaps telling the person filming to turn around, as whoever had been holding the camera turned towards the Canadian border.
The International Rainbow Bridge, a connection between the United States and Canada, New York and Ontario, the difference between the northern border and southern border of the United States, the Rainbow Bridge, was cut, sliced, down the middle, the American side of it simply extending towards an empty space of air above the river, nothing extending from the other side to greet it.
The Falls were still there in their entirety, but the image of the land across from it showed no sprawling city, no tall buildings, no buildings at all, no Canada.
Aside from the seemingly dead trees in the distance, the other side of Niagara Falls held zero signs of life, human or otherwise, aside from the large contingency of large ancient looking aircraft that were flying south.
…
The skies were bright blue as the girl stopped at the house.
It looked eerily familiar, as if she knew where to go from the start.
She was startled by the screaming police sirens as a car sped behind her on the road.
She still felt dread, but it was less about something she could avoid, now she just felt like she had been following a set path that abruptly ended where she stood.
Unsure of what to do next, she walked up to the closed door, doing her best to ignore the sounds of sirens wailing in the distance, and attempted to knock on it.
To her surprise, her hand went through the door as if it wasn't even there, as if she didn't exist.
She winced, and attempted to knock again only to be met with the same unnerving result, her hand disappearing through the wood.
She stared at her hand now, less uncertain and more confused.
Huh? Is the door just… Am I…?
She repeated the actions twice over before deciding to just walk through, which she managed to do with no problem.
The sound of people talking grew louder once through, and she walked down the small entrance hall and into what appeared to be a living room, a small rectangle that for some reason she understood was a television screen had images of a pale man explaining that "A State of Emergency has been declared across the United States and its territories" which certainly wasn't good, but she didn't understand why it was being declared.
Did it have something to do with the dread she felt?
She continued to stare at the screen from the entrance to the living room, listening for information, wondering if anyone was there, watching what she was.
"Uh… just in- Florida residents are confirming that they have been able to communicate with relatives in Puerto Rico and the US Virgin Islands, so we… we are hoping that this is a sign that whatever has happened is just affecting small parts to our northern border, not the entire world… more on that story as it develops. Meanwhile, we want to remind our viewers to remain clam. If you are in or near a town in the northern border, please remain indoors until further instructions are given. The National Guard is being activated across the nation..."
The girl stared as the screen shifted to footage of vehicles she recognized as UH-60 Blackhawks loading up with soldiers lifting off from… somewhere.
She frowned, unsure why she was feeling like something was calling to her.
I'm in the right house, aren't I?
She turned around and left the living room, continuing to walk down the hallway, glancing at the pictures on the walls, each of them telling a story; a man and a woman, both pale, both dark haired, smiling together in front of an oak tree. A wedding picture, the couple only accompanied by what could be assumed to be a minister or perhaps a judge. A pond was visible in the background. The next three pictures were possibly from trips. One had the couple in swimsuits, a large waterslide in the background, and the woman had clearly been sunburned. Both still smiled. Another picture had them standing in front of a massive tree trunk, and the third one with the couple drinking a beverage together.
She wondered why she felt everything was so familiar.
A picture of the woman wearing what she recognized was a military uniform, a flag she recognized as the American flag, red white and blue, fifty stars, behind her.
United States Army, 36th Infantry Division…
The girl stopped to look at the woman, wondering why the title had come into her mind so suddenly.
Next to it, a rectangular picture had the man standing in a state police uniform with sixteen other men, some young some barely adults. She recognized the man, but unlike the picture of the woman in a military uniform, she didn't recognize any classification or unit number for the other one.
She glanced at a smaller picture below the two.
There was a picture of a baby there not too far from the others; eyes open, strong hands holding it, most likely the father.
The next picture was of a family of three, the dark haired woman smiling; her long hair was now somewhat wavy, the dark haired man, mustache now slightly less bushy, had a slight smile. The third party was a baby boy, barely a day over two from the neatly combed hair and size in contrast with his parents.
The last picture on the wall was of the little boy in a cute red shirt, with khaki shorts and a striped blue backpack looking curiously at the camera.
It was a nice little collage, but it told her very little as to why she felt everything was so familiar.
"Um… excuse me…" a small voice brought her back to reality, turning to look at a small girl, short blonde hair and blue eyes… wearing a similar all white dress to her own.
"Um… yes?" she asked, speaking for the first time.
"You… you can see me… okay, that's a relief…" the smaller girl said with a sigh.
"Excuse me?"
"You haven't noticed? Nobody around here can see me for some reason. I must've walked past… through a dozen panicked boys in blue and yet… none noticed."
The girl thought about it.
"No, I haven't seen enough people to notice… I'm sorry."
The smaller girl nodded.
"Any idea what's around here? Felt like… like the house was calling me, but… now that I'm here, I don't feel like I found much of anything."
"I found these pictures that… I don't understand why I recognize them, but… maybe you do?"
The smaller girl stared at them.
She crossed her arms and let out an exasperated sigh.
"I kind of recognize him. But not a whole lot." she said, pointing to the man in a police uniform.
They were both silent for a second.
"So… you got a name?" The blonde asked.
The dark haired girl thought about it before shaking her head.
"Me neither… so, I guess-"
Far off in the distance, tiny explosions sounded off, muffled thumps that were constant and almost mechanical, one the two strangers recognized immediately.
The sound of distant gunfire sent a wave of chills down the girl's spine.
They both froze as painful memories shot up to the surface in an instant.
Blood, iron, gunpowder, people screaming, explosions…
The blonde swallowed before nervously saying "I… Did… d- did you just remember…?"
The dark haired girl looked petrified, physically shaking as she stared directly at the woman in a military uniform.
"I-Iraq…" she whimpered.
"I… don't know about that… I was in… Korea. I… I had to be." the blonde covered her mouth, her eyes staring back decades into the past.
Both stared at the images on the wall before the click that could only be the hammer of a handgun being pulled back brought them back to reality.
They turned to look at the young man aiming a handgun at them.
"Hands where I can see them…now!" Derrick ordered in as authoritative a voice as he could muster.
The dark haired girl was unsure of what she could do. Between the memories she had just shot through her mind like lightning and the whole stress of the situation she was in, she simply froze, a deer in the headlights.
The smaller girl simply said with great caution "Wait… you're… you're Derrick."
The teenager winced but quickly barked back "Out of the house! Now!"
"What happened to Robert?" she asked instead.
Again, the teenager paused before demanding "Who are you?!"
The blonde haired girl balled her hands into fists, a distressful cry escaping her lisps as she asked "I… I don't know. W-what year is it?"
The teenager didn't lower the gun, but kept his finger off the trigger, glancing behind him, making sure no one was using them as a distraction he motioned for them to enter the living room.
The dark haired girl walked slowly but the blonde remained in place, ethereal tears dripping to the floor.
"Move into the living room, now!" the teenager ordered; a tinge of anger in his voice.
The blonde complied then, following the dark haired girl.
He heard her mumble "why am I alive?" as she walked past him.
Unfortunately for Derrick, the phone lines appeared to be down or the police were just that overwhelmed.
He cursed under his breath before glancing at the ghostly girls in his living room.
They had sat on the floor as they seemed to be unable to sit on the couch without phasing through it as if they were… well… ghosts.
"So… neither of you knows who you are?"
Both shook their heads, the blonde refusing eye contact.
"Right, sure… no names, no possessions, no… anything. Right as everything around here goes to hell, you two just appear without opening the door, without making a sound…"
For a second he wondered if he was losing his mind, but realized that he didn't care.
"You... You knew my grandfather's name somehow… care to explain that?"
The blonde was silent before perking up and saying "August 4… 24th Infantry Division, 34th regiment, US Army, Robert scored his first kill when a KPA soldier surprised him as he was cleaning his rifle. Only kill he got before being wounded and sent back to the States."
Derrick didn't reply.
"I was there."
Derrick walked to the phone to check the lines again, fully intent on reporting these lunatics.
"I'm serious!"
"You're insane." the young man replied.
"I got the information right, didn't I?!"
"I wouldn't know, Grandpa never mentioned much of his time in Korea." He replied, anger lining his words.
The girl stepped back, defeated.
"Is the fact that we're not physical not enough to convince you?" the dark haired girl asked.
"Shut up… I don't care if your ghosts or spirits or whatever, I am reporting you to the cops as soon as-! Even if it turns out I'm crazy, I…" he placed the phone back down and glared at the floor.
"I… um…"
The soft voice was enough to get the teenager to glance at the dark haired girl.
She looked terrified as she spoke.
"Um… um… I… I want to know if Claire is okay."
The only reaction from the teen was that his eyes briefly widened before going back to normal.
Derrick walked right up to her and quietly asked "What are you talking about?"
"Iraq… I remember Iraq… I remember…"
"…She's dead."
The girl stared at him in shock then.
"Huh?"
The teenager said nothing, turning back to the phone and attempting to contact the police yet again.
Suddenly, the dark haired girl remembered and understood the dread in her stomach.
The silence right before an attack on a road in the sand had been exactly like the one she felt when she appeared on the road.
"No, she… she survived the convoy attack in Halabsa! I remember coming back here, moving here! She brought me here!"
"Impossible." the teenager stated, as if there was no discussion to be had.
"I… I can prove it! I remember the policeman placing… placing…"
She got up and almost ran to the hallway.
"Hey!" Derrick yelled, chasing after her.
"Wait! Can I-? ooh… damn it all!" the short blonde called, standing up and sprinting after them.
…
The nameless dark haired girl ran through the door to the garage, Derrick slamming it open behind her.
The girl was staring at the workbench his father used, her hands going through everything, unable to grab any of it.
She began to beg then.
"Please, please, please, I know it's in here… it has to be."
Derrick glared at her before speaking up.
"Only thing in there is some tools and car parts."
How the hell can I bring her back to the living room if I can't touch her?!
"Behind… it's behind the desk!"
The dark haired girl continued to whisper, before shutting her eyes tight, concentrating, focusing everything on trying to grab the workbench. She shut her eyes tight, trying to imagine herself grabbing on to the metallic surface of the desk.
It moved.
Derrick winced, as did the girl when she realized she could suddenly touch things.
She took a moment to look at her hands, to feel the pavement beneath her feet, and to feel the air around her.
She gasped, taking in a fair amount of air in shock, but quickly went to move the heavy bench.
With a quick pull, the bench was moved back a few feet, revealing a small door on the floor just as Derrick was about to try and grab her.
"What… the hell?" the boy asked, pausing. He had never seen the little door on the floor, and he wondered how the girl could have known about it, assuming he wasn't going insane.
"Hey, dark hair… you can touch things now?"
She didn't reply, pulling it open just as Derrick objected.
She winced as it was a dark box, one she recognized immediately as she pulled it up.
"Claire used to clean this every day and… and I remember it all."
She popped it open.
Derrick scoffed at the black rifle.
"AR-15, I have an uncle that has the same… model? Wait…"
He walked over to the open box and stared at the assault rifle, noticing some engravings.
If he was a bit more versed on the AR 15 platform, he would've noticed certain aspects that differentiated it from the legal variants, but given his age and experience, the main thing he noticed was the selector switch had more than two options, as well as a pair of small letters scratched into the steel.
"Wait, no, this…"
"It's Claire's M4… I remember when she brought it here!"
"She didn't… She… she couldn't." Derrick said.
The dark haired girl glared at him then, saying "It's right there, I remember coming here with it!"
"Dad must have brought it in when we moved, not mom… she had been dead for a month- She couldn't have brought this with us if she wanted." he said slowly, trying to adjust to the fact that his late mother's service weapon was right in front of him.
"W-what?" the girl asked, bringing him back to the present.
Silence.
"B-but she survived Iraq- She couldn't have… how did she-?"
"People die, lady, what do you want me to tell you?!"
Silence again.
The dark haired girl appeared unsure, more than a little disturbed now, and the distant gunfire wasn't helping.
She jumped when the teenager poked her cheek.
"Okay… you're physically here… what about you? She turned physical, why haven't you?" he asked, turning to the blonde.
The blonde pouted before saying "Not like I haven't tried…"
"Keep at it… we stay in the living room, we watch the news… maybe you're some side effect of this crazy… whatever it is."
"Wait, that's it?"
"You got any better ideas? I have no idea what's going on and clearly neither do you! Maybe something similar is happening elsewhere- I don't know! It's all I can do right now."
He led the two girls back to the living room where the anchor was, to his surprise, talking to someone from the BBC.
"And you can confirm the attacks are coming from across the channel?"
The trio sat down, eyes now glued to the images on the screen.
"Correct, Wolf, the… the enemy appears to be utilizing piston engine aircraft and they have been attempting to attack our Navy, most shockingly of all, R-A-F radar tracked them, and we believe they are originating from the coast of France, which makes no sense!"
"No word from the French president?"
"None at all, we have had no word from Parliament, either, and many people are beginning to panic as all flights out of England have been promptly canceled."
"For those just tuning in, contact has been reestablished with Great Britain, Australia, Japan, and the Dominican Republic; however, attacks along the northern border continue to increase in ferocity…"
Derrick breathed, saying "So the UK is still here…"
"Huh, the Tommie's seem to have changed since the fifties…" the blonde haired girl murmured.
The boy turned to the girls.
"Okay, so… you two have memories from Iraq and the… the Korean War?"
The girls nodded.
He glanced at the firearm on his person.
"You specifically remember my mom using that M4, you recognize this as my grandfather's Colt… are you like… spirits of war or something?"
The blonde laughed and said "That's insane; I don't have any powers… I think."
"Well, how are you sitting on a couch without being physically here?"
"Good question... Let's see if-whoa!"
The blonde sank into the couch, her head still popping up as if she was one with it.
"I... guess it's in my head... I just have to focus!" the girl said, quickly standing up and sitting down.
Derrick glanced back at the TV, footage from Texas showing another disturbing scene, the road leading to Mexico simply vanishing just like the Rainbow Bridge had.
Almost impossible to see, Derrick smiled slightly.
"I… we are going to go to a report from the Secretary of Defense, right now!"
The recently admitted Secretary of Defense wasn't so much standing on a podium, as he was standing in front of several UH-60 Blackhawks that were getting loaded up with US troops.
"This is just a report on the situation as we know it… at approximately five in the morning, Eastern Standard Time, we lost communications and power across the entire continent, and from what our satellites recorded, the world. We have no explanation for this phenomenon at this time, what we know, is that at exactly zero seven hundred hours, unknown aircraft were detected entering US airspace, just as we were regaining electricity and communications. Since that time, we have been receiving distress calls in every language from ships across the sea. Our Navy is mobilizing to try and assist where it can, but the descriptions vary from being in desperate need of repairs, or refueling, to… the point is that the message of the calls received is clear."
The old Marine general paused, visibly unsure of how he could explain what was happening.
"It appears that… that whatever occurred in the previous night has affected every nation across the globe to some extent. The worst examples can be seen simply by looking across the border. Whole cities are gone… and while we are happy to confirm contact has been reestablished with a few nations, we have little hope for the rest of the world. We are releasing satellite images of the globe as is right now…"
Derrick felt mouth drop open as the images were shown onscreen.
"… What we know as Canada is simply gone; there is no evidence of cities, roads, or civilization of any kind… until you reach the northernmost edge of the American continent, where we have visual confirmation of shimmering lights that appear to be coming from small towns. To our south, there appears to still be some cities and roads, but nowhere close to what existed yesterday. Mexico appears to be almost entirely farmland, the vast majority of South America is… what appears to be in similar condition."
"Add to this the news we are hearing from the UK and Sicily… something has happened, and we are under attack. This appears to be an air campaign designed to cover advancing troops, and we are already seeing hostile forces enter…"
Sicily?
Grabbing his Samsung, Derrick immediately moved to look up Sicily.
Twitter was erupting with distressed people asking questions, few he could read.
A man named Joey Baldacci had cryptically posted "The attackers have taken the Port of Messina and are killing everyone that gets close! Stay away!"
Facebook had several live feeds, unfiltered given the chaos.
Derrick nervously tapped one in order to view it.
A teenager, no older than himself was filming from a rooftop as people ran in the street below, pushing each other aside like it was a movie, the crowds running from an unseen terror.
Derrick was unable to understand the words they were screaming, and the shaking camera made it impossible to really see anything more, but he could hear the screams.
The nameless girl with dark hair moved to look at the phone with him.
"Where is that?"
"Sicily, something is-" he froze as he saw what was clearly a human being simply get torn to pieces by a bright flash of light, what appeared to be a limb flying off and slamming into a wall as the person filming appeared to freeze up, the audio not really working given the volume of screams overwhelming the device. But the camera was working fine as it showed what happened next.
A white haired… something was almost teleporting to random people, cutting them in two, the person filming ducked down, but kept the camera fixed on the situation.
Movies liked to exaggerate how much blood one can see on film, but the shaky camera and the fast paced movements of the mysterious white haired demon made it impossible to discern how much blood was being spilt, and it was hard to tell if everyone was being slaughtered, just that they were being cut down.
All Derrick knew was that the white haired person suddenly vanished through a wall, the person filming apparently frozen there as the nightmarish screams of a child were heard.
A woman was thrown out of a window in the building then, and the person filming immediately turned around and ran off, the feed being cut just as the screams of what had to be an infant grew in intensity.
The dark haired girl covered her mouth in horror.
"No way… No way this is real…" she whimpered.
The distant gunfire continued to sound off, now actually coming closer.
Distant booming sounds, screaming sirens, and the news on the television were the only sounds audible within the living room.
The blonde stood up, angrily saying "Screw this, the war is in that direction, I say give me a gun and some bullets!"
No response from the other two.
"You want to go out and fight when you aren't even physically here, be my guest." Derrick said after a minute, sounding calm but shaking visibly.
"I… ugh…" the girl shut her eyes tight and began to focus.
Derrick watched her, noting that her face began to turn red as if she were holding her breath, which he thought was odd that a being that was physically not there needed to breathe.
Just what are you?
A screaming police siren sounded outside as a police car hit the brakes and stopped right at the entrance of the home.
Two ash covered officers stepped out, and after a minute, a loud knock was heard on the door.
"Keep your doors locked and stay inside! If you have any firearms or weapons, arm yourselves!"
It was the dark haired girl who ran to the door and opened it.
"What's happening?" she asked loudly.
Derrick stood, waiting in the living room, the blonde still holding her breath.
"Some guy with an armed escort- it- just stay inside, doors locked, if you have a gun get it ready, we lost most of our guys at the border, but so did they!" the officer said before running to the next house to do the same.
The dark haired girl stood, unsure of what she could do.
Memory struck again and she whirled around, shutting the door behind her.
"Do you have any rifle ammunition?"
You're in Montana, what do you think?
Derrick simply stood up, not saying anything.
He walked out to the garage with a bored expression.
The dark haired girl followed him to the garage, finding him opening a large safe in a corner.
Once open, the safe appeared to be almost empty.
A wooden rifle and a few boxes of ammunition lay inside.
The teenager grabbed the rifle and looked it over, making sure it was clean.
She noticed the incredibly sad look in his eyes as he held it.
Before she could ask, he placed it down and grabbed one of the boxes of ammunition and a magazine.
Recognition hit her once more.
Ruger .223!
"Um… that…"
"Belongs… Belonged? My dad's rifle… not sure if he… whatever…" he half muttered, half whimpered before composing himself.
The girl winced, unsure if she could say anything to help.
She didn't really recognize the boy, she knew she must be related to him somehow, but she wasn't sure how.
"I… I want to help!"
The boy glanced at her, a sad, yet uncaring look in his eyes.
She noticed he only used the contents in one box of ammo, she noticed he only had one thirty round magazine, and she noticed there was still another box of .223 left.
"The M4 should be functional." she said simply.
"It's presumably an automatic weapon, which makes it illegal unless it was bought before the automatic weapons ban… that being an M4… Only way mom could have taken it with her is if it wasn't functional."
"I-"
"Say it was functional, .223 rounds aren't exactly the same as the 5.56 NATO rounds it takes."
"Correct, but unlike civilian rifles, a rifle chambered in 5.56 NATO can also take .223 Ruger rounds without much issue." she argued.
The distant gunfire had stopped, leaving an eerie silence in the air.
Derrick turned to her and said "Do you even know how to handle it?"
She nodded, unsure of why she was so confident about it, but confident nonetheless.
"What are the rules of gun safety?"
"Assume every firearm is loaded until proven otherwise, always aim a firearm in a safe direction, always keep your finger off the trigger until you are ready to fire, always be sure of your target before firing, and… shoot to kill."
The boy stared at her for a second.
Her thin frame suggested she would fall over if he pushed her, the white dress screamed "innocent and naïve target", and the look in her eyes, though determined, were clearly that of a child.
That said, physically there was no denying the girl was about his age, perhaps even a little older, and if the words she had said were true, then she might have more experience with firearms and combat situations than he did.
"If you can load it, carry it, and not drop it, meet me upstairs."
She nodded and quickly grabbed the box of .223s and ran to the M4, still lying on the box it had been found in.
Derrick walked over to the living room, making sure the Mini 14 still had its safety on, only to see the blonde now actually turning blue.
It was frankly disturbing, seeing her sitting down on the couch, but there being no weight to her.
He glanced at his belt, his grandfather's .45 still firmly placed on it, which was probably dangerous for a gun from the 1950s, but he hadn't had time to put on a holster.
A theory developed in his tired head, and he removed the handgun before walking to the blonde girl.
"Here." he said, offering it to her.
The girl opened her eyes, and gasped, taking the gun with ease.
She winced as she sank into the couch slightly.
Then she glanced at Derrick, confused.
"You were after grandpa's gun? Is this like appeasing a spirit or something?"
"I thought I had done it and you were handing it to me as a reward…" the girl admitted.
Derrick noticed the girl was holding the gun in a safe manner, finger off the trigger, barrel pointing away from them.
What are you?
Answers would have to wait as he heard something in the distance.
Without saying a word, he gunned it down the hall and up the stairs.
Sounds like… like a train?
He got up the stairs, ran to his room, opened his window, and peeked out as inconspicuously as he could.
"What the hell?" he had to say out loud.
It looked like a half track, the old vehicle used by the German Army in World War Two, an old armored troop carrier, except that it was cheap and clearly breaking down.
There was a driver, looking out his own window to see clearly as the glass was cracked and impossible to see through due to what Derrick could see were actually bullet impacts.
On top of it rode a woman the young man could only describe as "demonic".
Her hair was long and the darkest black he had ever seen, actually darker than the girl downstairs.
What frightened him were the strange, maybe biological, maybe mechanical horns protruding from her head.
As well as the carbon black sword that looked like the woman had actually taken dirty diamonds and physically cut them in order to give the blade such a shape.
The armored vehicle stopped, but only one man walked out of it.
He looked like he had walked out of an old Soviet propaganda film, a military cap that had a golden symbol in its center, a long trench coat that seemed to be keeping him warm in the cold weather.
The man looked around, eyeing every house in the neighborhood.
He then pointed to a house across the street.
The woman turned and swung her blade.
Derrick had to blink to make sure he was seeing things properly.
Energy was shot from the blade in the direction she had slashed, and every window in the home was shattered.
The strange man shouted "Surrender now and we can offer you a painless death!"
In response, his neighbor began to fire what Matt knew was a Remington 700 rifle.
The man's cap flew off as the bullet struck above it, but the man remained unmoving.
With a wave of the hand, the woman revealed a large handgun which she proceeded to shoot directly at the window the shot had come from.
Derrick stared at the damage done to the wooden boards in the neighboring house.
He wasn't sure what caliber the gun was, but it was leaving holes the size of baseballs on the opposite home.
Derrick proceeded to duck back into his room and lie flat on his back, clutching the rifle.
Did this woman just take out the town police?
He had the gun to defend himself, and he was petrified of actually starting the fight with someone that could kill him with great ease.
Adding to that, the woman stopped firing, and loud, pained screams filled the silence.
He held his breath as the man shouted the same thing in his direction.
Did he see me?
"The offer still stands! Surrender now and I can offer you a painless death!"
"NUTS!"
Derrick glanced besides him.
The blonde had gotten into his room without him realizing and had actually shouted down at the man, her upper torso sticking out of the window.
"What did you say?" the man called impatiently.
"Not understanding transmissions, sir!"
Silence.
Derrick couldn't do anything but wait.
He heard talking coming from the strange woman.
Before he could focus on what they were saying, the blonde ducked back into the room.
She gave him an awkward but apologetic smile.
Derrick's eyes widened and he managed to say "Oh, you stupid-"
Instead of the windows shattering or bullets tearing holes in the wall, the horned woman hopped through the window and into the room.
Derrick stood up, but the woman did nothing to stop him, eyeing the shorter blonde instead.
"U-uh… hello?" the blonde asked.
"Why are you here?"
"I… huh?" the girl stammered out.
"Spirits are not supposed to…" she slowly turned to look at Derrick.
The boy gripped the Mini 14 again, but kept it pointed at the floor.
"Anchor… how did you get possession of this girl?"
"What? Look, she just showed up, I have no idea where she came from or what the-"
The blade stabbed into the wall next to him and the woman put a hand on the top of his head, gripping tightly; drawing blood as she began smiling.
"Oh, you don't know? So then what use do you have?"
Derrick could only watch as the blade began to get closer to his eye.
He found himself terrified of shooting the woman in front of him, but with no choice, he flipped the safety off his rifle and-
As if lightning had struck the home three times in quick succession, three gunshots rang out.
The woman winced, stopped squeezing the boy and whirled to glare at the blonde who had fired the M1911 with deadly accuracy.
The girl nervously smiled.
"U-um... hands over your head?"
In response, the woman threw Derrick into the shorter girl, knocking both of them into the floor.
"Pitiful…" she mumbled as she began to walk up to the two, lifting her blade.
A quick burst of automatic fire knocked the woman to the side.
She turned to glare at the dark haired girl, now wielding the M4A1; a minuscule trail of smoke exited the muzzle as the girl stared at her target.
There was a small amount of blood on the floor.
"There's TWO of you?!" the woman shouted before lifting up her gigantic handgun.
Derrick managed to stand up, ignoring the shaking girl under him.
Blood trickled down his forehead as a maddened glint entered his eyes.
He gripped the Mini 14 and raised it up, not even bothering to adjust his aim much, pulling the trigger three times in rapid succession.
The woman had noticed and just as the first round left the barrel, she vanished into thin air, the three rounds leaving relatively small holes in the wall she had stood in front of.
Silence filled the room as Derrick stared at the empty space in front of him.
"What… the hell?!" he shouted before glancing out the window.
The woman was standing next to the man now, clutching her side.
Is she bleeding?
The military man frowned, glanced up at the house, making eye contact with Derrick.
"Full retreat." he stated calmly, beginning to climb back into the armored vehicle.
"Shall I pursue?"
Derrick turned to look at the girl, angrily asking "Why are you asking me? I'm not your boss."
Surprised, the dark haired girl shook her head, saying "Ah- sorry… I… I don't know what came over me."
The armored car retreated and disappeared from sight.
The distant gunfire finally ceased.
January 25, 2017 10:17 PM
CNN continued to play on the television.
"…more ships and aircraft continue to arrive in Honolulu as families desperately hope loved ones have escaped from the carnage seen from Europe and Asia. We have word the PLA's Navy has been granted docking permission in Taiwan after several tense hours. A spokesperson confirmed they had suffered similar attacks earlier today, and with no word from the CCP, many have begun to fear the worst."
The footage on the television screen was something out of a big budget disaster movie, hundreds of navy ships, some with clear signs of damage, some still ablaze docking into ports, dumping injured men and women into the arms of waiting EMTs. From a distance, the crowds appeared similar to an anthill that had recently been stepped on.
Derrick changed the channel.
The BBC looked somewhat less chaotic as military personnel ran to and fro behind the reporter, some carrying things others seemingly searching for things to carry.
"…Russian naval forces have confirmed all contact lost with Moscow, Crimea, and other Army headquarters. We are unsure at this time where they intend to go, but many speculate-"
Derrick changed the channel.
The MSNBC looked somewhat under control as the woman continued talking.
"…be too soon to estimate the number of casualties, but authorities fear the island of Sicily may be lost to enemy forces, as NATO units are still reeling from today's events, and help may be days away in spite of the island's close proximity to-"
Derrick changed the channel.
ABC News reporter stood in front of the White House, Secret Service and Police Officers keeping crowds at bay.
"…was seen exiting the White House, but didn't take any questions from reporters. Some sources say the president will address the nation later tonight, though no confirmation has been given as of this-"
Derrick changed the channel.
Fox News didn't look much better.
"Both the Canadian and Mexican borders have been entirely shut down until contact can be reestablished with their respective governments. However, given the nature of the situation, that may no longer be possible, and many are worried that a military insertion might be necessary to-"
Derrick shut his eyes tight and covered his ears.
"Bathroom's free." the dark haired girl called, wearing baggy shorts and shirt that were at least two sizes too big on her, a blue towel loosely wrapped around her head.
Derrick said nothing, Mini 14 resting by the couch.
"Um… thanks for the clothes."
"Not mine." he replied.
"Oh… Um… any word from your dad?"
The teenager shook his head.
"I take it the police are too busy to help us out right now too, huh?"
"Yup."
Silence remained for a moment.
"Call blondey down here, we need to talk."
The dark haired girl nodded and went upstairs.
Derrick stood up and walked to the window, pulling the curtain aside.
A state police car drove slowly past his house, lights blinking silently as it did so for the fifth time that night.
While there was still power, many homes had shut their lights off, hoping enemy aircraft wouldn't see them.
He closed the curtain again and saw the two girls now sitting down on the couch.
He noticed his mother's clothes fit the blonde better than the dark haired girl but said nothing about it.
"…we have to assume you'll be staying here for a while, so until we figure something out we're kind of stuck together."
The blonde spoke up.
"Should we work on some cover story in case the neighbors get curious?"
Derrick simply raised an eyebrow, saying "Why?"
The blonde turned a pink hue, saying "Isn't it indecent for two young ladies to live together with a single young man?"
"Yeah, well you can tell them the truth. You have no idea who you are or even what you are, and are waiting for the authorities to check up on us and figure out what in God's name is going on."
The girls nodded then.
"Right… anyway, if you don't remember any names…"
Both girls shook their heads.
"…then I'll call you Blonde and Dark Hair. You can sleep in my room, you can sleep in my dad's room, and I'll sleep down-"
"Oh, come on, can't we just pick our names?" the blonde protested.
"You can call us by the weapons we use." the dark haired girl suggested, albeit she seemed nervous about speaking.
"Yeah, just call us after the weapons we remember using… or seeing… but yeah, that could work!"
Derrick thought about it.
"Dark hair and Blonde sounds better than M4A1 and M1911A1."
The girls blinked but didn't object, although the blond let out a dramatic sigh.
The boy continued.
"Right, I'll sleep down here, the two of you can sleep upstairs, I don't care where."
The girls nodded.
There was a pause as the news continued to blare in the background.
The dark haired girl finally said "We should get some sleep. We don't know if that person will attack again, or if something else will happen."
"Yeah, better rest while we can." the blonde said.
"I ain't stopping you."
The two girls awkwardly stood up and began walking upstairs, the dark haired girl turning to him and saying "Um… good night."
Derrick simply waved her away.
He stared at the TV, the news continuing to show insane images of the old piston engine aircraft with bizarre symbols on their wings.
His cell phone vibrated again, and he glanced at it.
Unknown- if I send you his number, will you text him or call him to apologize?
He tossed the phone aside, continuing to watch the news.
As if to taunt him, the second it landed on the cushion, it began to buzz, alerting him that someone was calling him.
He kept watching the news coming out of Taiwan as he picked up the phone, noting the unknown number, and answering.
"Hello?"
"Yes, is this Derrick O' Neal?"
"Yeah?" he half answered, half asked.
"This is doctor Martin Ferrero, I'm with the United States Army… I'm calling you from our triage center near the border, and we have a wounded man with the identification of 'Ray O'Neal' with your contact information on it."
The words made him spring up.
"Dad? How is he?"
"Not good, but he is alive. He was air lifted as a priority to Montana State Hospital, but given the damages caused to his body… son, I'm afraid to tell you that he may never walk again."
Derrick squeezed the phone tightly and took a heavy breath.
"When can I see him?" he asked, doing everything to hold it together for a few more seconds.
"Well… given the current crisis, it may take a few days before it's remotely safe enough to travel outside of town, and even if you have a car to take you there, you likely won't be allowed to see him until tomorrow at the earliest."
The boy nodded despite knowing full well the man on the other end couldn't see him.
He didn't have the strength to say anything more.
"Well… this is my personal phone number… I am quite busy, but if you need anything or have any questions just give me a call."
"Thanks." He said and quickly hanged up before covering his face, his nails digging into his skin as the first tear began to stream out of his eye.
"Was… was that-?"
"Jesus Christ! Don't do that!" he whirled around, furious.
The dark haired girl took a step back, but forced herself to remain in the same room.
The boy simply turned away to glare at the floor.
"Dad's alive but in bad shape… may not be able to walk again after today… those… whoever they were, they… they must have…"
His jaw clenched, the knot in his throat tightened ever more and for the first time in a very long time, the teenager felt truly helpless.
The girl approached him silently, the look of worry lining her face making it clear she wanted to help. Derrick glanced, his dark hair covering his eyes before turning away again.
Without looking at her, Derrick said "Has nothing to do with you, so don't… don't worry about…"
He found it impossible to talk and not sound pathetic.
The girl immediately said "You're letting me stay here… you were the only one that saw me and nineteen- I mean… you're letting us stay here even though you don't know us at all… I wouldn't blame you if you told us to leave."
The young man remained stone faced, his attention seemingly on his shoes.
The girl continued.
"I don't know what all of this is about… I don't even know what I have to do with all of this, but… if you let me… I can at least try to help you."
"Why exactly would I want your help?" he almost growled back.
The girl quickly said "Because… maybe we could bring money in by pretending to be do magic tricks, or maybe some scientist would pay big money to study us… we could probably be out of your hair if you give us to a scientist and demand money…"
"You want me to sell you?" he seemed to be visibly disgusted with the suggestion.
The dark haired girl was caught off guard.
He continued.
"No… you… you remember my mom… probably saw her at her best… probably even knew what she was thinking."
She shook her head, but the boy continued.
"You and blondey… maybe it's just some sick prank… maybe I'm going crazy, but… you got me with the memories of my family… I can't just give that up. I wouldn't sell that 1911 for anything, and… and I wouldn't just kick out someone my mom and grandpa knew… no, I'll help you as much as I can… even if you're not real or just playing a sick trick on me."
The girl only nodded at the words.
She had no way of proving him wrong.
Maybe she was just being used for something else.
Maybe she was just under the control of something else and didn't know it.
Maybe she was a part of the whole crisis.
But she didn't know.
"I want to give you a reassuring answer… I really do, but… I can't… I don't know if I'm a monster of some kind or some experiment gone wrong, but… but I still want to help you."
Derrick finally turned to look up at the girl, his expression exhausted, her eyes filled with worry… but determined.
She meant what she said.
Derrick went back to staring at the floor.
"Go to sleep… I don't plan on just sitting around doing nothing either."
January 25, 2017, 11:18 PM.
Geographic South Pole
He didn't like that the sun continued to spin in a circle above the grandiose city in the ice.
No, he much preferred the near total darkness of most of the year but no version of planet earth had a place that was entirely dark twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, twelve months a year, every year since the dawn of creation.
At least, no place other than the deepest depths of the ocean, and even beings such as he required oxygen to breath.
A shame this version of earth is no different…
A lower angel approached him then.
"My Lord, there is a problem."
The angelic man turned to glare at his subordinate before asking "What is it?"
"The resistance- the human resistance is far greater than expected."
That was confusing.
"How so?" he asked, now raising an eyebrow.
"Lord, we are getting reports that the invasion did not completely exchange the nations of this earth."
The angelic lord now turned to look at the sky nervously.
"Thank you for bringing this to my attention." he said simply, vanishing from sight as he became completely ethereal, sinking through the buildings in order to reach the lowest floor.
Once there, he reformed his physical attributes and looked around as several lower angels, albeit intelligent ones, argued with each other, all visibly confused.
"Ah, Lord Apollyon! The-" an angelic female began, but he cut her off.
"Skip to the point, and inform me of the situation."
The woman nodded and placed a hand on an ancient machine that began to glow, the dim light began to illuminate the colored outline of landmasses, ancient continents known to the self-proclaimed Angels for centuries.
Lord Apollyon winced, saying "A sixth landmass!"
"As well as uncountable amounts of smaller ones all across the blue sea, but that isn't the problem."
As if it had been cut with a knife, a section of the conjoined twins that were the North and South America continents was highlighted in red.
"This land was untouched by our initial strike, and that is understandable, sometimes in our invasions small elements of the previous world slip through, if you will. Yes, this would be the largest slip recorded, but it could be explained away as a slip. However..."
Apollyon narrowed his eyes as the screen focused on the western side of the area in red, with tiny dots littering a portion of it..
"The land… this land… my lord, somebody made it so that this land received parts and pieces of the areas we eliminated. We don't have eyes or any way of knowing for sure, but... we believe major military installations present in parts that were exchanged were transported back to this landmass."
Apollyon realized the implication.
"So somebody did this on purpose?!"
"It is the only possible answer, sire… but it gets worse. It seems this land might be-"
He raised his hand, silencing her.
"Yes, a global superpower. A land that large usually is. I must inform her excellency of this regrettable situation."
Without another word, Apollyon stretched his wings and lifted himself out of the centuries old laboratory.
He flew above the clouds and buildings, overseeing the massive city for a few brief moments, before quickly diving towards its center.
The guards saw him, fiery blades remained sheathed, none could threaten him of course, but his presence had not been requested.
He heard the voices of the military generals laughing and celebrating.
"My sources say there is not only a new titanic landmass, the first addition in centuries, but dozens of smaller ones, varying in size!"
"Our human armies will surely have a field day on the locals then?"
"Most certainly, the human army is loyal and powerful after-"
Apollyon interrupted the meeting.
"The resistance is far greater than expected, Mikael."
The three generals turned to look at the relatively young Lord.
"How did you hear of this?" a woman general asked.
"My teams discovered that there may have been a sabotage. The land mass in the conjoined continents is not only largely inhabited, it seems that it was this world's superpower."
Silence fell upon the generals.
Then a giggle began to emit from the bright figure on the throne at the end of the palace.
"Incredible, after so long we get a superpower involved."
"Your Excellency, this is no laughing matter. The previous superpower-"
"Yes, I know, I know… but we defeated them in the end."
No, we didn't, we sent them back!
"Regardless, we control the majority of land. Any resistance will be strangled out of them once we establish communications. How bad is the resistance over there, Lillith?"
The woman general scowled as she attempted to recollect the casualty report her officer had sent.
"They have firearms, and they halted most advances. However it is worth mentioning the advancements were done by infantry forces, and the armies in the northernmost of the conjoined continents is regrouping, while the army to the south has begun to trek upwards to crush the enemy resistance. Our forces have already conquered parts of an island near the boot continent, and are taking stock of the bounty."
"See, Apollyon? Nothing to worry about."
"Actually, Excellency, there is an issue with the spirits sent across." General Lillith stated.
That caused the queen's smile to disappear.
"The… spirits?" the queen asked.
"One of my officers encountered two as he moved his scouting party ahead into a small town. It appears these people a few anchors amongst them. However, given the odds that he met one so quickly, this is certainly suggestive of a larger number of anchors and spirits amongst the human population in these lands."
Silence yet again.
"Is it possible they know how to use them?"
"Unclear, your excellency."
For once, the queen appeared worried.
"We must be smart about this. The new forces must be crushed immediately, starting with the so called superpower. If they have anchors then they must not be allowed to learn of them."
She stood up and glared at her generals.
"Crush them entirely."
January 29, 2017, 7:30 AM
Montana, United States of America
"… bombing runs on enemy encampments as the call for mobilization begins to ramp up. Chris, I have seen boys lining up in recruitment centers by the dozens, and the same is being reported on Allied nations. The level of commitment is likely one we haven't seen since World War T-"
Derrick shut off the radio on his phone, taking off his headphones as he got to where he wanted to be.
The National Guard had established a command center in the small town, coordinating with aerial units as they began pushing back enemy forces through sheer air dominance.
That, and they were bringing in supplies, some of which Derrick needed of as his father had not bought any groceries before everything went to hell.
"Any news from the hospital?" the dark haired girl asked him.
"Dad's still paralyzed if that's what you're asking." he spoke in an unreadable tone.
The girl stammered out a quick "I- I just wanted to know if he was better!"
The boy shrugged.
"Nothing since last night… can't even see him." he sighed, the exhaustion in his eyes betraying the firm words.
A loud sound was heard from above as a formation of F/A 18s flew over the town and headed north.
Derrick huffed before walking up to the truck that had two men in Army BDUs, one writing something on a notebook, the other just sitting around with his M16 by his side.
Derrick said nothing as he approached the guy with a notebook and handed him his father's identification.
In turn, the guardsman didn't say anything as he handed Derrick a bag of rations.
The dark haired girl noted the wordless exchange and quickly said "Thank you very much!"
The soldier smiled slightly, tipped his cap, and went back to writing on his notebook.
The town was quiet, not even the animals making much noise.
If not for the very distant sound of explosions, all that might be heard would be television screens as news continued pouring in from across the globe.
"I see everyone's nervous…" the nameless girl sighed.
"You think?"
The US had just gone to sleep one night and woken up to the new world, but places in Europe, Africa, and Asia had apparently experienced the change as it happened, quick as it was.
The old world was there one second, gone the next; a blink in the cosmos.
Derrick glanced at his phone again, noting the news alert.
Sicily evacuations underway as lines stabilize...
The frontline in Sicily had been stabilized the previous night, local and NATO forces managing to halt the advancing forces that had actually dropped into the island via plane, but many port cities that had apparently not been taken along with the change in reality were under siege.
At least being port cities made resupplies possible, but militaries were scrambling to get control of them before this unknown enemy, and that task was not made easier without central leadership for many nations.
No sign of enemy ships as Navies move to retake port cities...
"How come they don't have ships?" the girl asked, leaning on his shoulder to read the news article.
Derrick shrugged, inadvertently bumping the side of her head with his shoulder.
He didn't say anything.
She didn't say anything, eyeing him with almost childish curiosity.
Derrick finally said "I don't know, nothing makes sense any-"
"Hey!"
The pair turned to look at another girl, skinny and pale, with dirt brown hair that was cut at shoulders length.
The nameless girl felt the tension in the air as Derrick proceeded to give one glance at the girl before briskly accelerating in his pace.
"I- why are you-?" she tried to say only to get left behind.
"If you take another step I'll report you for harassment!" the other girl yelled.
Derrick paused, his free hand balling into a fist.
He didn't turn to face her, though.
"Thought so… Derrick, you haven't sent your apology to-"
"I'm not going to send an apology." the boy interrupted, still refusing to look at the other girl.
The nameless girl asked "What's this about?"
The other girl ignored her.
"You racist little-"
"You want to accuse me of racism, I don't care. Report me for whatever, he is not getting an apology from Me." he said coldly.
Now the girl turned to look at the nameless third party out and about.
"You a friend of his?" she asked her with an exasperated breath.
The nameless girl quickly said "Uh- I knew his mom. Is something wrong?"
"Yes. He started a rumor one of our school's students was an undocumented immigrant, which actually got him in trouble. Only reason Derrick wasn't expelled is because his daddy is a cop and this is the most racist state in the God damned Union!"
Derrick began walking away.
The nameless girl was about to follow when the other girl said "I heard they even let him get away with murder down in Texas!"
Derrick stopped walking, but said nothing.
The nameless girl paused, glanced at the other girl.
She didn't see the boy briefly look at her with suspicion.
"Is that true?" she asked the girl.
The other girl huffed and said "Don't know, but he never denied it. If you're just passing by I recommend you stay in a hotel or with someone else… especially given the current crisis… be careful out there."
The girl turned to look at the boy.
She ran up to him with some concern in her eyes, paused, but bluntly asked "Is what she said true?"
Derrick said nothing.
The girl frowned and was about to demand an answer when the boy finally spoke.
"Doesn't matter now, does it?"
"I think it does!" she said louder than she intended.
She quickly turned her face to the ground, visibly frustrated.
"Okay… yeah, I started a rumor that the kid was illegal, got him in a fair bit of trouble with I-C-E, and I'd do it all over again."
Now the girl looked less frustrated, but certainly unsure; her expression reminding the boy of a deer in the headlights.
"Why?" she finally asked.
"Because he pissed me off." He replied.
She said "And… the murder in Texas?"
He simply said "Not dad or me…"
"Then who?" she asked.
"…mom…" he sighed.
"Not possible."
"I know."
"Then-"
He raised a hand, silencing her, before speaking in a very detached, very tired voice.
"Listen… a little Mexican girl went missing back home, mom was asked several questions cause she had been one of the last people to see her… few months pass and nothing turns up, so… case goes cold. The kid's father doesn't let it go, and… killed her thinking she was the prime suspect, I-I think he thought since she was married to a cop the case had been dropped, it… it doesn't matter. She's dead, he's in prison, people think my mom was a killer, and dad moved us up here to avoid dealing with that crap. Any questions?" he asked, his voice strained.
She slowly shook her head.
"Good… don't bring it up ever again." He said, turning and walking back home.
She eyed him for a moment before following.
…
There was a van outside his house.
He ignored it, walking up the porch and entering the house.
He found the small blonde staring out the window.
"What?" he asked.
"That van has been parked there since you left… thinking I could sneak right in if I wanted to."
"Go ahead, not like I could stop you if you turn into a ghost or whatever you do."
The dark haired girl said "Maybe they're lost?"
"Maybe it's the CIA looking for a place to stay and monitor things on the front… don't know, don't really care. Anyway, I brought the meals ready to eat which should last us a while before-"
"They're coming!" the blonde said and quickly hid inside the couch.
How she was able to go from physical to meta-physical was beyond him, but it was kind of disturbing. Why she felt the need to hide when no one could see her when she "turned ghost" was arguably more disturbing.
There was a knock on the door.
He glanced at the girl who slowly hid behind the pillar separating the kitchen form the living room.
Rolling his eyes, Derrick answered the door.
A young man met him, simply saying "Hi, you're dealing with Angels?"
A pause.
Neither spoke until Derrick broke the silence.
"What?"
The man had a Homeland Security badge.
"You call them angels?" Derrick asked.
"I think it sounds nicer than spirits or ghosts… may I come in?"
"Yes, please, do." The teenager replied, standing aside.
The man glanced at the dark haired girl who was now peeking from the corner of the kitchen entrance.
"Hello, miss. You the only one?" he asked.
She shook her head nervously, looking more child-like than she actually was.
Derrick said "There's a smaller one, she hid inside the couch…"
"And you can see them?"
"Yeah."
"Well then… guess that makes you case number… thirty-nine."
"That many?" both of them asked in mild surprise.
"Yeah, we plan on going public about it next week once we have a bit of a clearer grasp of things."
"Are they're all… like me?" the dark haired girl asked.
The Homeland Security officer simply said "Depends… what gun are you attached to?"
She winced at the question.
Derrick only nodded.
"An M4A1 my mom probably stole… I didn't even know we had it until she showed up asking about it."
The man said "Well, that makes sense. A kid in Yorkshire found a girl who was attached to a freaking Lewis Gun his great grandfather had hidden away in a basement."
"Oh, great, so this is happening all over the world, too?" The girl said with a half laugh, half cry.
"Yup."
"A-and she… she didn't remember her name or where she was from?"
"Nope."
"Ah… I see… wait, attached?"
"That's what we're going with."
"What… do you mean by that?"
The man took a breath and said "Simply put, it seems you girls are born from the memories that whatever rifle, handgun, shotgun, or machine gun has… well… lived through. Surely you noticed that much?"
The girl nodded very slowly.
"What's stranger is your ability to… shift in and out of a metaphysical state. I'm not a scientist, I'm actually just a clerk who read all this stuff this morning so don't expect much from me in terms of science, but the fact is you are something never before seen in this world!"
"Not sure if that's supposed to make me feel better, but… thank you."
Derrick spoke up then, asking "So what happens to them next?"
"Oh, you're stuck with them."
A pause.
A blink.
A breath.
"I'm what?"
"They are pretty much attached to you, too. I mean, when they're in this physical form they can move around like anyone else, go anywhere from what we've read, but… you've been following him around a lot, right?"
She nodded.
"We don't know much about it right now, but they're drawn to you, same way that kid in Yorkshire drew in the Lewis Gun."
Derrick rubbed the back of his head seemingly panicked.
"S-so… I have to live with them forever?"
"We don't know."
The girl laid herself back against the kitchen counter.
Derrick supported himself on the wall before speaking.
"I… I'm going to need a job… dad got hurt, he's paralyzed from the waist down, I-"
"Relax, take a breath… look… this is… all forms of crazy but also comes with amazing opportunities. Do you have any idea what this ability allows you to do, M4?" he asked the girl who looked confused.
"We… um… since none of you have any names we call you by your weapon's classification."
She shrugged off the possible dehumanization going on before nodding for the agent to continue.
"Now, the world is at war, no one can deny that even if no war has been declared… the plan right now involves initiating a program to train the girls who have this ability to be effective soldiers, but if that's not your thing-"
"I WANT TO JOIN!" the blonde girl said, hopping from the couch and becoming physical once more in an instant.
"Ah… you were serious about… anyway, the military work isn't the only-"
"No, I don't care! They attacked my country and I want to make them pay!"
The man eyed the short girl for a second before asking "What gun are you attached to?"
"An old M1911A1 from Korea, grandpa's gun." Derrick sighed.
"Ah, well… Nine… there are options, but you need Derrick here to sign up with you and M4 to actually join. Again, there are other options, primarily with police and law enforcement."
"…is that all you can tell me?" he asked.
"Essentially."
"Couldn't this have been done over the phone?"
"Had to confirm if the girls were… well… here."
He nodded.
"Thank you, Agent…"
"Molder. Don't start with the jokes, please."
"I don't know what you're talking about, but we appreciate your help… now if you'll excuse me, I have some stuff to do. If you want to interview the girls go right ahead."
There was a short pause.
"So... um... look, information is rather limited at the end of the day, and I can always come back later."
"Yeah, it's not like we remember anything." the dark haired girl said, forcing a light chuckle.
"Well, look, I'll just... leave this card here. Give me a call if you need anything, but I'll be coming by in a few days to monitor things. You guys are living practically on the front, and for the time being I can't really help you with that. At least not until things get organized. Stay safe, okay?"
The girls nodded, and waved as the man exited the home.
The dark haired girl glanced at the blonde.
"Can you stay down here?"
"You're going to talk to him?"
"I'm... I'm going to try."
"Yeah, go ahead. I'll just... watch the news, kay?"
She nodded as the girl flipped on the TV.
Feels like all we watch is the news...
She walked over to the room she knew Derrick was in and knocked.
The reply came "It's open."
She opened the door, comfortable still living in the real world, able to actually feel things, and stepped inside.
He was counting money.
"Banks are frozen, so I've been using stuff from our vacation budget... not that it matters much."
"Um... what do you think?"
"I thinking I might as well enlist. Odds are we'll have a draft going on pretty soon anyway."
"We could be in some of the other jobs."
"We have options, but... being in the Army gives the family benefits, so I can get dad better care... maybe if I sign up right now I can get a special deal or something like that... I don't know. Point is, I'm leaning towards the Army if you're cool with it."
The girl almost smiled but forced herself to hide it.
"I don't know..."
Derrick turned and eyed the girl.
"You feel drawn to me?"
"I guess that's it... not to make it... weird."
"It's already weird... look, if that's how it is, then fine, we're stuck with each other so... might as well make the best of it."
She nodded.
"Now, I'll be old enough to enlist in a year, we'll have to make do-"
"Sign up, Nine and I will work with the scientists, make some money like that..."
"Yeah, work together, keep dad under better care, help out our country like good patriots... Hell, we might just have it made! If you're cool with it." he half chuckled.
She only nodded.
The pair was silent for a moment.
"Then that's it... I'll go sign up as soon as they go public."
She nodded.
"...so... do I just call you M4 or...?"
"Um... yeah, that's... M4 is fine. I thought it was a bit... odd, but... it actually sounds right."
"Okay... then... uh... you just call me Derrick. We'll have to rely on each other a lot from now on, so... might as well get used to it."
She nodded and gave an optimistic smile.
A/N: So… this has been a LONG time coming.
Honestly, the story of how I came up with THIS little fic makes for a story onto itself, but the short version is that this is me trying to write a "fix fic" for ANOTHER story that has nothing to do with Girls Frontline.
I've had this partly written for years, and little by little I wrote more because I really like the idea of an invasion force replacing nations instead of simply attacking from space or from a portal somewhere, and the idea of an "angel division" if you will, where a certain unit has regular soldiers, but also "angels" which are, of course, our well known firearms incarnated.
See, here instead of them being androids or "T-Dolls" they are essentially human (already were pretty much humans in the game anyway) but with the ability to shift in and out of the physical realm, so… Angels(?)
This fic would, in theory, follow the main character's relationship to M4 (1911 is just there because the squad that forms after this all have both an AR and a HG attached to its members) as what is effectively a world war rages on.
At the end of the day, this is just me trying to ultimately focus on character development a bit more and I don't even know if I'll continue this fic.
So let me know what you think! Chapter 1 was… effectively just an exposition dump, but I tried to make it interesting.
As always, reviews and suggestions are greatly appreciated.
Not sure if I'll write more than a few chapters for this, but if you guys like it I'll give you a bit of a story arc at least.
Thanks for reading!
