Solar: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller

by Huggins, Shane

  "You first," I say. Her smile is not so full anymore. I must have said something wrong.

  "I just ..." This is difficult for her, I can tell. "I needed to get out. Get away from everything and everyone."

  "So why go to town?" I ask. "You knew I was going there. Why go there at all if you wanted to get away from everybody?"

  She smiles again, but not as before. Coyly, this time. "Well, perhaps not everybody."

  Her hands tighten on mine. The pulse I feel now races. It must be mine. My heart is close to beating its way out of my chest. She shuffles closer, leans in over me. Her hair tickles my bare chest as it drapes over me.

  Before she can get too close, before our lips have a chance to meet, I whisper, "I need to show you something." She pulls back. Disappointment laces her warm stare, as well as intrigue. I nod to my snow jacket. "Check the pocket." She does as instructed, pulls the police scanner from the fur lining.

  "Ryan, this ..." She is scared. She knows all too well what technology can summon. "Where the hell did you get this?"

  "The woods," I say, "the other night, when I was hunting the buck."

  "Does your dad know?"

  "No," I say flatly.

  "Does mine?"

  "No," I say again, this time grinning in amusement. "Of course not."

  "Good." She breathes a sigh of relief. "Keep it that way." She stuffs the scanner back inside the pocket. My eyes narrow. She picks up on it, adding, "Trust me. If he finds out-"

  "He won't," I say.

  "Promise?" As if I could refuse her.

  My fingers trace an X across my chest. "Cross my heart." My words instantly mollify her, yet I see no comfort in her eyes. "Rose?" I say tenderly. "What's happened?" Silence lingers between us. A sudden awkwardness that cannot be easily undone. "Is everyone alright?"

  "Yeah, everyone's fine." I can see there is more to it.

  "Then what?" I ask. It is as if a switch has flipped. A second ago she was smiling, laughing, joking. Now she is afraid. She paces around the room, unable to settle.

  "You were unconscious when it came. It has been outside all day."

  "What has?" I ask. Now I am the one who is unsettled. I know what she is going to tell me before she says it. The thought of it frightens me.

  "When your dad brought me back, something followed us," she says. She kneels at my side once more, forcing a smile onto those pillowy lips. "It's okay now, though. We haven't heard it for a while."

  I say it before she can; the words we are both thinking. "Solars don't like the twilight."

  She brushes her hair behind her ear. That is when I notice her hand. "Whoa, Rose. What the hell happened?" I snatch it away from her lustrous locks and study the hole. A perfect circle, shimmering with colour.

  "Nothing," she says, snatching it back. She runs it through her hair again, nervously. I do not know if she intends for me to see the rest, but I see it anyway.

  "Come here," I say softly.

  I reach for her, gently place my hand against her neck. She winces as I pull her close, but she does not resist. As I brush her hair back, I see it all: bruising, swelling; injuries that are easily explicable, given the trauma she has suffered this day. But there is something else. I push her auburn curls back further. There is a cut on the back of her neck, not deep, but long, stretching its entire width.

  "How did you get this?" I ask.

  She draws away quickly, sweeping her hair back into place, concealing the wound. "It's nothing."

  "It's not nothing," I protest. I keep my hand locked around her neck, ensuring I keep my grip clear of the cut. "Let me have a look at it."

  "I said it's nothing," She whimpers. She swats my hand away and bows her head, eyes down. I want to know more, but do not push her. If she does not want me to know, then I must respect her wishes.

  I amend my grasp. My hand rests on her jaw line, fingers tucked beneath her flowing curls. "I'm here for you, you know?" Her eyes creep up to meet mine, but she does not raise her head. She looks so cute, yet so sad. My heart breaks upon seeing those poignant doe-eyes. "I care about you, Rose."

  She leans over me. Her hand rests on my neck, fingers caressing my cheek. She presses her lips to mine. They are so soft, so sweet. I am lost in this moment, this perfect moment that I have longed for since I first laid eyes on her, but it is cut short. She pulls back suddenly, alerted to the raised voices from beyond the confines of my room.

  Before I realise, she is up, across the room, standing in the doorway. "Are you planning to use that again?" she asks. Her eyes glance at my jacket, at the contents inside its pocket.

  "Yeah," I say. "Later tonight. I'll wait till the night's at its darkest."

  "Don't stay up too late," she purrs enticingly. I wonder if she knows the effect she has on me. I doubt it. If she did, she would not tease me so. "Goodnight, Ryan."

  She pulls the door to. I can see her through the sliver of an opening that remains. Her hips sway hypnotically as she struts through the common room, past both our dads who are bickering like children, towards her bedroom door. They barely take note of her presence. John eyes her briefly, flashes her a troubled smile as she passes. Dad does not bother to even look at her. I can see why she feels lonely. In this place, she is a ghost. If only she knew how I feel about her. If only I had the balls to tell her.

  "Goodnight, Rose," I whisper as she disappears behind her door. "Love you."

  JOHN

  Saturday, 19:46

  "I'm always thankful for darkness," I say. "This night especially." David stands at my side, eyes glued to the door at the head of the stairs. Neither of us had dared ascend the staircase and look into its eyes, but we knew it was there. We could hear it, banging, clunking, scraping against the steel. But for the last four hours, nothing; no noise from above. Still, I will not relax my guard just yet. They know where we are now. It will not be long before something else comes knocking.

  "Think we're in the clear," David says. He does not sound sure.

  "Let's give it a little longer," I say. "No harm in being cautious."

  "Suppose," he replies. "But we can only stand here for so long. Soon we'll have to do something."

  "And what do you think we should do?" I say. My words dare him, goad him even. He will not stay still for long. Better him than me. I am quite happy to stay put.

  "Aargh, to hell with this," he grumbles, placing one foot on the bottom step.

  I stay him by grabbing his arm. "Wait."

  "For what?" he snaps. "We can't just sit here forever."

  "I know," I say. "It's just-"

  "Better to do it in darkness," Cait interrupts, appearing behind us from nowhere.

  We both recoil. "Fuck's sake, Caity. Sneaking up on us at a time like this." David's outburst brings a smile to her face, as well as mine.

  "Can you hear anything?" she asks.

  "No," I say. "Not for hours."

  "Well?" she says expectantly. We both gawk at her. Her eyebrows arch as her eyes throw daggers at us. "Who's going up to check?"

  "Him!" David and I say in unison, pointing at one another. This again brings a smile to her face.

  "You finding this funny?" David asks her.

  "Not in the slightest," she says coldly. Her contempt for him is clear to see. She makes no attempt at hiding it.

  "I'll go," I say. I do not really want to, yet I will do anything to end this tension.

  "Fine by me," David says. He holds his hands up, turns his head. The look he gives says, your funeral. I look to Cait. She has the same look. It is almost night. We have not heard a peep from up top for hours. Is it really that dangerous?

  "It'll be fine," I say. Portraying confidence has always been a strength of mine. Truthfully, I am scared shitless.

  I pause, waiting, hoping Cait will protest. She does not.

  "Well?" David says. He stares coldly. Does he fear anything?

  I take his place, put one foot on the first step, but freeze when I hear it. A clang, metal on
metal, coming from above. I feel a prickling tingle on the back of my neck. The hairs stand on end. I am cold, colder than I can ever remember feeling. So this is what pure terror feels like.

  I ignore the feeling, take another step.

  "No," Cait squeals. "Don't go up there." I turn, a finger to my lips. "Please, John."

  "Quiet," I hiss. Another clang echoes down the steep staircase. Cait flinches at the noise. Her breathing quickens. Her eyes soften, allowing a stray tear to fall. I guess I am not the only one who is scared.

  I look at David. His face has not changed. No fear, no distress. I realise now why he did not want to go up there. He was not too scared, just not stupid.

  "You've seen it," I say. He looks at me blankly. Cait's eyes narrow. She sees it, too. A look of knowing. "What the hell are we dealing with here, David?"

  His face drops, that cold stare returning with a vengeance. "No idea," he grumbles. I know he is lying, but cannot call him on it. I, also, am not stupid.

  Another clang. Another flinch from Cait. Her jumpiness is contagious. As her body shudders, I find my own following suit.

  "Fuck this," David says. His feet hit the stairs with no thought for silence.

  "What the hell are you doing?" I ask. He has an evil look in his eye. I fear he may have finally lost it.

  "Don't do it," Cait says. "Please." David regards her carefully as if her words hold sway over him. Curious.

  Eventually, he turns. I follow slowly as he ascends. Each step seems steeper than the last, harder to climb, yet I go on. The head of the stairway is dark, but I still see the dents. Huge bulges in the steelwork, familiarly shaped, almost fist-like.

  "Holy fuck." The words escape my mouth with a gasp. David shoots a glare my way. I understand its meaning. Now would be a good time to keep my mouth shut. Still, the damage is done.

  Clang after clang rattles my eardrums. More bulges appear. One grows larger with every strike, the metal stretching under the strain. Tears begin to appear. I can hardly believe my eyes. That steel is a half-inch thick, double skinned.

  The onslaught continues. I dare not utter a word. I glance at David, expecting to see the same look on his face as I assume is on mine. His eyes are wide, menacing. The veins in his neck pulsate. His arms ripple as his body tenses. He is ready for a fight. Does he know something I do not?

  I yelp as the steel buckles, folding onto itself. A fist is pushed through the clawing shards, huge, cladded in an obsidian-like armour. I look behind me, down the stairs. Cait is watching, Rose at her side. Ryan stands over them, crossbow shouldered. It will not be enough.

  "C'mon, David," I say, hooking his arm. He barely moves an inch as I hang off him. He shrugs me off as if I am nothing more than an annoying child, clinging to his mothers leg. I stumble back, fall a few steps. "We need to go, now!"

  "No," he growls. "You go hide with the women if you want. I'll deal with this fucker." I feel his disgust at my plea to retreat. This stairwell suddenly seems a lot smaller, incapable of accommodating such an oversized ego.

  His hand reaches inside his belt, pulling a pistol. Before I can utter a single word, he fires off a few rounds. His aim is true, putting each round through the opening and into whatever waits beyond the door.

  A loud roar reverberates throughout the narrow passage. It is not human. I descend the stairs swiftly, three steps at a time. My eyes fix themselves on those who wait below. Rose holds her hands to her ears and buries her head into her mother's bosom. Cait holds her tightly. I rush to reach them. I do not care what happens to David at this point. All I care about is protecting my family.

  Ryan receives me as I reach the bottom. "What the fuck is that thing?" He asks.

  I shake my head. "I don't know," is all I can manage to utter. My mind cannot focus, cannot think. All I can do is push past him and throw my arms around the two people I love more than anything else. "Are you okay?"

  Cait's eyes say it all. I realise the idiocy of asking such a question. Rose is distraught, hysterical. Cait is barely holding it together. All I can think to do is hold them.

  Rose's eyes widen. "Ryan, no!" she screams.

  I turn to see him scale the steps, quickly reaching his father's side. The deafening sounds of another four shots boom down the passage. The roars grow louder. Of anger? Of suffering? I do not know. I hear David's cursing and profanities above the noise. Rage will be his downfall. Then, a new sound. The unmistakable twang of a crossbow string whipping free of its latch. And then, silence.

  "What happened?" I yell up at them.

  Ryan turns to us. A look of disbelief envelopes his chiselled features. "I got it," he whispers incredulously.

  "That's my boy," David hollers. He slaps a meaty hand around his son's shoulder and pulls him close. "Well done, son."

  Cait stares up at me. Her fear is gone, replaced by a broadening smile. Rose's face mirrors her mother's. My fear has subsided, also. But I do not smile as they do. My face falls to anger as I rush forwards.

  Before I know it, I have scaled the stairs. I am face to face with David, ignoring Ryan completely. "Where the hell did you get that?" I ask with a voice as dark as hell itself.

  "Why does it matter?" Ryan asks. "We're safe now." I am not so sure.

  "Ease up, John. The boy's right. It's dead."

  I scowl at David, enraged by his blasé attitude. "Give it to me," I say, holding out my hand.

  "What? You serious?" David asks. My nostrils flare, eyebrows scrunching. I am in no mood for this shit. "Give over, John. We just-"

  "Give me the fucking gun, David!" I say, cutting his boasts short.

  His smile fades. Now it is he who has a face like thunder. "You gonna make me, John?"

  "You're in my house," I growl. "I told you the score when you first rolled up on my doorstep. Now, I won't ask you again."

  David leans in. He towers over me on a level surface. With me standing two steps lower, he seems like a giant. "I like you, John. I've got a lot of time for you. But if you push me ..." He does not finish. He does not need to. I know a threat when I hear one.

  "John," Cait yells from below. Her looks can speak a thousand words. I get the message.

  "Fine," I say, locking eyes with David once more. "Keep it." I allow my lip to curl, baring my teeth. "But you step out of line once more; either of you." I glare at Ryan for a brief moment before returning my sight to David. "You'll find yourselves looking for a new home."

  The tension is palpable. I can feel the blood pumping in my veins. I ball a fist, as does David. I brace myself, knowing that, at any moment, we will come to blows.

  David's hand falls slack, pacified, as Ryan steps between us.

  "Sure, John," Ryan says. "It's your house, like you say. We'll do better, I promise." He turns to David. He is looking down, shuffling his feet. "Won't we, Dad?" David grunts. He does not like being told what to do.

  "How bad is the damage?" I say, changing the subject.

  "Not bad," Ryan says. "A few dents, some tears. No big deal. We can have it patched within the hour."

  "No big deal?" I yell. "That thing almost pummelled the door to pieces and tore a huge gaping hole when it put its fist through."

  Ryan's eyebrows scrunch. "What are you talking about?"

  "You feeling okay, John?" David adds.

  Ryan takes a sidestep. I see the damage with my own eyes. The dents are minimal. The hole is little more than a slit, as if the metal has some somehow straightened itself.

  "What the hell?" I say, not knowing whether I can trust my own eyes. I clear the few steps between myself and the door in one long stride. I run my fingers over the panel. "This is impossible," I blurt out. They both eye me cautiously. I inspect the battered steel. The opening is barely an opening at all. The surrounding area is creased, as if the metal has folded back in on itself. "Did it close the hole?"

  "Close it?" David says. "That's all it's ever been. Barely big enough for Ryan's arrow, let alone a fist." He places a hand on my shoulder, guid
es me downstairs. "I think you need some rest." I look at Ryan. He nods in agreement. Maybe I did imagine it. Fear plays dirty tricks on the mind.

  As we reach the bottom, I am met with more cautious faces.

  "Is everything okay?" Cait asks. I do not know how to answer.

  Rose catches my gaze. "Is it gone, Daddy?" I pause for a moment. Is it gone? Should I check?

  I turn, run back up the staircase. I hear Rose gasp behind me. My actions must have taken her by surprise.

  The heavy drum of footsteps follows me. "What are you doing, John?"

  "I have to see it, David," I say. My mind is racing. I fear it will not stop until I know the truth. "I need to know."

  "Know what?" he bellows. "It was just an animal. Nothing extraterrestrial about it! Tell him, son."

  Ryan is suddenly there, standing behind his father. "I-uh ..."

  "Was it?" I yell.

  Ryan ponders for a moment. "Yeah, I think," he finally says. "I didn't really see it. It was too dark."

  "So what makes you think it was an animal?" I ask.

  "The noise," David says. "It was the shrieks of a wounded predator, not an unearthly monster." I consider his words. The call was a gruff roar. No clicks. No cracks. Not the noise I would expect to hear from a solar or otherwise.

  "I saw a fist," I say. They regard me as if I am a mad man.

  "You saw nothing!" David shouts. He is nearing the end of his tether.

  "Open it," I say.

  "What?" Ryan is aghast. David is adamant that this thing was a native creature. From the look on Ryan's face, I can see he is not so sure.

  "Open it," I repeat. "It's the only way we'll know for sure."

  They trade glances with each other, then back at me. Ryan opens his mouth to speak, but is silenced as David presses a hand to his chest.

  "Okay, John," David says. "If that's what it will take, we'll open it."

  "What if it's still out there?" Ryan bleats. "What if it gets in here? Caitlin. Rose. It will-"

  "It's dead," David snaps. He turns the key in the door, reaches for the brace latch and swings it up. "You said it yourself; you got it."