The Invaders (The Visitors Saga, #1), Page 3

  I dodged a car that almost slammed into us from the side. Cars began to pile up everywhere and I tried my best to weave around them.

  I looked to my right just in time to see a pickup truck slam into the side of my Jeep. I didn’t even have time to scream. The Jeep flipped as glass shattered and airbags deployed. I felt shards of glass cut into me. I bit down on my tongue hard, tasting blood in my mouth. The Jeep flipped a second time. Everything happened in slow motion. I watched as things were being tossed around inside of the car. My phone flew by my head, missing it by inches. The top of the Jeep slammed into the cement barrier. The roof came crushing down on top of me.

  Then, silence. The only noise that I heard was the sound of gas trickling and Alex’s ragged breathing. The gas dripped in a steady rhythm. It was actually somewhat peaceful. My eyelids grew heavy, and I was forcing myself to stay awake. Finally, I gave in, and sleep embraced me in its cold, black arms.

  Chapter Six

   

   

  I woke up to the smell of smoke reaching my nose. My head throbbed, and my thoughts hazy. I opened my eyes and a blinding light flooded my vision. I instantly shut my eyes, my head hurting more than ever. I became aware of my seatbelt cutting into my neck. I tried to adjust my neck, but it was useless. I realized that the seatbelt was the only thing keeping me from falling to the ground, since the Jeep was on its side.

  I tried opening my eyes again. This time, I shielded my eyes with my hands and let my eyes slowly adjust to the light. It was daytime. We had been sitting in the middle of the highway bleeding out all night long. I couldn’t believe we had not bleed to death, and that nobody came to rescue us.

  I pushed these thoughts out of my head, and I immediately turned my attention to Alex. His body hung above mine, his seatbelt holding him up. It cut deep into his neck from all the pressure on it. Blood dripped on my face, and I wiped it off. We had to get out of here.

  “Alex,” I tried to say, but it just came out as a hoarse whisper. I built up saliva in my throat and swallowed hard. My throat screamed in pain. I did this a few more times until my throat felt somewhat moist. “Alex,” I said again, this time it came out sounding almost normal. Alex still did not respond. I reached up with my hand and shook him. He let out a groan. At least I knew he was still alive. The truck had hit us on the passenger side totaling it. I was baffled at the fact that he survived. That either of us survived. It was a miracle.

  I tried to shake him again, but it was hopeless. He wasn’t waking up any time soon. It was up to me. I was going to have to drag him out.

  I reached over to unbuckle my seatbelt, but it would not unlock. I pushed it harder and harder, but it was useless. I yelled in frustration and banged my hand against the dashboard. I closed my eyes and sat there for a minute, breathing hard. “Calm down, Charlie,” I comforted myself. “Just calm down. Everything will work out. Just focus.” Focus. I had to focus. It didn’t matter how we survived through the night or why everybody all of the sudden decided to try and kill themselves. I just had to focus, and get Alex and I out of there and into safety.

  “Help!” I called out because I had no idea what else to do. “Can anybody hear me? Help me! Please!” There was no answer. I felt frustration beginning to rise on the inside of me. Anger was starting to take control. “Stop it!” I scolded myself. “Get a grip!” I yelled on the top of my lungs.

  I just sat – no – hung there, clueless on what to do. Then, I remembered something. When I had first gotten my Jeep, my mom insisted that I buy a first aid kit to stick under the seat and one of those seatbelt cutter/window smashing devices. I just did as she told me and then completely forgot about it. Until now.

  I reached over to the glove box where the seatbelt cutter is at. I could barely reach it. I had to wiggle up in my seat as far as I could in order to reach it. I slipped two fingers underneath the handle and popped the box open.

  I dug through the box very carefully; I didn’t want to knock anything to the floor. I couldn’t see inside of the box, so I was relying completely on feel. I felt what I believed to be the cutter, and gripped it tightly. I pulled my hand out of the box. Success. It was the cutter.

  I let out a laugh. I have absolutely no clue why, but I did. The cutter was the most beautiful thing that I have ever seen. It had a yellow and blue handle, and at the end of it, a pointed hammer was sticking out. Midways up the handle sat a slit where a very sharp razor was held, making a v.

  I slipped the seatbelt inside the v and pushed down as hard as I could. The razor cut through the seatbelt like butter.

  No longer being held up by the seatbelt, I came crashing to the ground. I only fell a few inches, but it still hurt when my head banged against the door. I was being cut to pieces by broken glass. I lay on the ground for a few moments collecting my thoughts and waiting for the pain to subside.

  Once the pain had gone away as much as possible, I placed the cutter in my back pocket and slowly, sat up. I was squatting on my legs as I started to crawl out where the windshield used to be. I crawled out on my hands in knees, getting even more cuts. Once I had made it out side, I slowly got to my feet. I brushed the glass off me, checked to make sure that no bones were broken and stretched really big. I was still in awe by the fact that I had nothing broken, and I had survived such a horrendous crash.

  All these thoughts were wiped from my brain, though, once I saw the devastation that surrounded me. Most cars on the highway were a burnt, black shell (save for my Jeep) and the sky had a thick haze of smoke coating it. The damage was devastating. Smoke billowed from a nearby building. I looked to my right, and I could see the tail end of a helicopter sticking out from a pond that was in front of a very nice hotel.

  What the hell was going on? Why did everybody all of the sudden want to kill themselves? Where were the rescue crews?

  I pushed these thoughts out of my head when I remembered Alex. I hobbled over to the truck (my legs were stiff from being in an awkward position for hours) that did this to us and climbed on the mangled hood. I crawled to the edge of it, looked into the passenger side window, and down onto Alex. The right side of his face was a bloody pulp. I crawled as far as I could into the Jeep; my head was almost in Alex’s chest. I wrapped one of my arms around him and with the other reached into my back pocket and pulled out the cutter. First, I cut his lap belt. Secondly, I slowly cut the belt that goes across his chest. I cut it little by little, each cut taking more weight off the seatbelt and more weight onto my arms. Finally, I cut completely through the seatbelt, and Alex fell into my arm. I quickly threw the cutter out the window behind me, and with that arm now free, I quickly wrapped it around him before my other one gave way and I dropped him.

  I slowly pulled him up, then inched backwards. Pull up; inch back. Pull up; inch back. Finally, I was outside of the Jeep, and pulled Alex out completely with one big heave. I collapsed on top of the truck’s mangled hood, and Alex fell on top of me. I laid there for a moment, breathing heavily. I pushed Alex off me and sat up. I did a quick check over Alex, and he had no broken bones. I was totally baffled.

  I jumped off the truck and walked over to where the seatbelt cutter had fallen and placed it into my back pocket. Once Alex came to, we were going to figure out what in the world is going on.

  This whole thing was weirding me out. Well, I guess “weirding” is the lightest way that I could put it. I was scared. Again. Just when the Visitors left, along with my fears, everybody suddenly got a death wish, ushering in a new fear. One question that had been lingering in the back of my mind the entire time pushed itself to the top of my pile of questions. Why not me? Why hadn’t I suddenly started hating everything and decided to try to kill myself? I couldn't answer these questions. I had no explanation – logical or otherwise. But nothing was really “logical” anymore.

  I decided that while I was waiting for Alex to come around, I would wash all this blood off me. I gave up on any rescue crews coming. They were probably spread thi
n or something. I began to walk to the pond that was in front of the hotel that was next to the highway. Shells of what used to be cars were all over of the road, making it difficult for me to cross. The sun beat down on me, hotter than ever.

  I made it to the grass median separating the highway from the service road that led to the hotel and the various other businesses. There were not as many “cars” on the road, so it was an easy task getting to the pond. The main pond was dark and nasty from the gas and oil that spilled from the helicopter that had crashed into it.

  To the right of the main one, I saw other smaller ponds. I half-walked-half-stumbled to the pond, my throat rejoicing because of the coming refreshment. I fell to my knees at the edge of the nearest pond and dumped my head into it. Ice-cold water rushed over my face, washing away the dirt, sweat, and blood. I used my hands to scrub away the stubborn dirt and blood, simultaneously washing the blood and dirt off my hands. I lifted my head out of the water, took another deep breath, and plunged my head back into the pond. The refreshing water felt so good on my face. I held my head under the water for as long as I could. My lungs began begging for oxygen, so I lifted my head out of the water, and gasped for air. I put my head back in, this time halfway, and started taking gulps of water. My throat thanked me, and I felt energy returning to my body.

  I ran my hands across my face and shook water out of my hair. Something felt weird. I ran my hands across my face a couple more times, not believing it. I looked down at my reflection in the water. The water was disturbed and rippling. The water settled at an agonizingly slow pace. It finally did, and I let out a gasp. There was not a scratch or bruise on my face. I looked down at my arms, and the only scratches on them were the ones that I suffered from my escape from the Jeep.

  I realized that The Visitors made everyone want to kill themselves, and then healed those left.

  Chapter Seven

   

   

  I poured the water out of the bucket I found onto Alex’s face.

  He sat up quickly, sputtering water, wiping it off his eyes. “Wha-wha-what?” he said looking around. He was looking from car to car, and finally, his eyes rested on what was left of the Jeep. “Christ!” He exclaimed. He stuttered, looking for words. “H-h-I mean, wha-wha, how in the world did we…” He stopped talking, and looked up at me, eyes wide.

  “Follow me,” is all I said. I turned to walk towards the ponds. He quickly stood and followed.

  I weaved through the cars and tried not to chuckle every time Alex let out a gasp. We finally made it to the ponds. I brought Alex to the one that was next to mine, since the one I used was dirty. I pointed at the pond. “Look,” I said.

  Alex bent down to look at his reflection in the pond. He let out a scream that, if I hadn’t known better, could’ve sworn came from a girl. “Is that…blood?!” he exclaimed, feeling his face.

  “Yep! That’s blood all right!” I said, smiling. “Do you feel anything?”

  “No! Nothing at all! I don’t feel any wounds. Nothing!” he said franticly.

  “Exactly,” I said, crouching down on my knees to get eye level with him. “The Visitors did something. They planted a death wish into just about everybody’s brain, except ours. They healed all of the wounds that we suffered from the crash.”

  “Well, that was awfully nice of them!” Alex said sarcastically.

  “Tell me about it.” We sat there for a few moments, thinking. “Well,” I said finally. “You get cleaned up. I’m going to go see if my phone survived the crash. Maybe we aren’t the only ones who didn’t kill themselves.”

  Alex chuckled. “Man, this has got to be the weirdest, scariest, craziest thing that has happened in history.”

  “Yeah, and the second happened Friday.”

  I started making my way back to the Jeep, trying to process what we were going to do. I knew that first we were going to go to my house. It was only about a fifteen-minute walk from the hotel. After that, though, I had no clue. What about my parents? Were they still alive? I couldn’t bear the thought of them dying. But what if they had? What would Alex and I do? I shook these thoughts out of my head. I told myself that they were still alive. They had to be.

  I realized that I was standing in front of the Jeep in a daze. I snapped to attention and got to work looking through the Jeep.

  I got on my stomach in front of the windshield and looked in. All I saw was glass, airbags, trash from the backseat, along with a pair of extra clothes that I keep in the back that somehow made its way to the front seat. I grabbed the white t-shirt and tore two long strips off it. I wrapped the strips around my hands to protect them from the glass and started digging around the Jeep. I remembered my iPhone flying past my face during one of the flips – can’t remember which one – so I dug around the side of the car that was on the ground. I saw my Dad and Aunt Jesse’s McDonald’s food and felt a pang of sadness resonate on the inside of me. I turned that sadness into determination. I had to find my phone and get out of here. I picked up the McDonald’s bag, and there was my iPhone.

  I pulled it out from the mangled wreck and took a good look at it. It had a blue case that covered the back and sides but unfortunately did nothing to protect the front – the part that really mattered. It was a mess. The screen had been shattered beyond recognition. I tried pressing the lock button, but nothing happened. It was destroyed.

  I let out a deep sigh of frustration and tossed the phone back into the Jeep. Well, there went that plan. I mean, I hadn’t been expecting much in the first place. I expected it to be cracked or something, but not as badly damaged as it was. I thought maybe I might be able to at least see enough of the screen to try and make a phone call. I guess that is what I get for having such high expectations.

  I turned from the wreck and started making my way back to Alex. “How’s it goin’?” I asked when I made it back to the pond.

  Alex, who was lying on the ground staring into space, responded by grunting.

  “Yeah, me too.” I sat down next to him.

  “What are we going to do now?” he asked.

  I noticed that a tear was traveling down his face. “Well, once you’re ready, we’re going to make our way back to my house. See if our parents are still there. Then, who knows? Maybe look for other survivors. I’m not sure. We’ll figure it out as we go along.”

  “I need to see if my Dad is all right,” he said as he sat up.

  “We’ll try calling him when we get back to the house.” I suddenly thought something. Stupid me! How come I did not ask before? “Alex, did you bring your phone with you?”

  He shook his head. “I forgot it back at my house. Mom and I were going to go get it replaced.”

  Figures. “That’s fine.” I said, more to reassure myself than Alex. I stood up and offered my hand down to Alex. I helped him up. “We better get going. The sun's starting to get high. It’s probably around noon.”

  “Yeah, okay,” he muttered.

  We started the walk back to the house, Alex dragging his feet. I heard sobs escaping from his mouth. He was trying hard to hide it, but was not doing a very good job of it. It was then that I realized that I could never show any weakness in front of him. Even though I was only older than he was by a few months, he looked up at me. He needed me for guidance, leadership – courage. He needed me to be courageous for him.

  As I walked away from the hotel, the car wreck – car wrecks – I realized that I was leaving everything behind. I was leaving my old life behind and stepping into a completely new one.

  Chapter Eight

   

   

  Alex and I turned to the right onto the street that my – our – house was on. We slowly made our way up the road trying our best to prolong the inevitable truth. Still, we had a tiny glimmer of hope on the inside of us. We survived, so why not our parents? They had to be there.

  We made it to the house finally. I stopped at the edge of the driveway, outside of the twelve-foot cast iron fence an
d looked up at the house. Its blue two-story self stood exactly where we left it. The fence showed no signs of damage from somebody crashing their car into it as so many others in the neighborhood did.

  I walked over to the keypad that was in a box on the edge of the gate and entered the code. The gate didn’t budge. I tried again. Nothing. I punched my fist against the gate in frustration, and let out a grunt. I remembered that Alex was standing over me, and quickly stood up, brushing invisible dirt off my shirt. “Power must be out. We can’t climb the fence; it’s too high. There’s a secret gate in the back. Follow me.” I jogged around the property until I was in the back center of the house. I inspected each of the rods in the fence for the mark indicating where the secret gate was. I found the rod that had a cut straight through near the top. I pulled on it, and the road came off the fence. The rod next to it was cut in the same way, and I popped it off like I did the other. Alex and I squeezed through, and I turned and placed the rods back in their place.

  “Secret gate, huh?” Alex smiled. “Way cool.”

  “Well, what can I say? Mom was a fan of theatrics.” The mention of her reminded me that she could possibly be waiting for me inside the house. I ran to the back door. I reached underneath the welcome mat and grasped for the spare key. My hands touched cold metal, and I slid the key out from underneath the mat and picked it up. I inserted the key into the lock and twisted. The door let out a satisfying click. I took in a deep breath, opened the door, and walked in.

  The house was dark. Dark and quite. I turned right, and started for the kitchen. Alex closed the door and was right on my heels. “Mom?” I called into the darkness. “Dad?” I heard no reply.

  “Mom?” Alex tried, hoping for a different result than I had, but he had the same. “Mom,” he said again, more like a statement, and less like a question.

  “They’re not here,” I concluded, my head dropping.

  “No, no, no. They have to be. We haven’t searched the whole house! We can’t give up! They have got to be around here somewhere!” Alex voice was shaky, obviously holding back tears.