“Janny, I love you so much. I’m so sorry this happened,” I blurted between sobs.
She looked me in the eyes, and for the first time in weeks, I saw her own eyes well up. A single tear fell slowly and splashed on my cheek. It mingled with my own, and somehow, I felt better for it.
“I have to tell you something.” She leaned back down on her pillow, and it was almost as if I noticed for the first time how sick she really was. Her eyes were sunken, skin tight against her hollow cheeks. She coughed lightly and a speck of blood flew out onto the bedding.
“Just remember that I’m sorry.” I went to stop her and she waved me down. “Dean, don’t say anything...” another cough, “just listen. One day you’ll learn something about me. Know that I’m sorry, and that I truly do love you with all of my heart. You mean everything to me, and I never expected to feel this way. My life has been worth it just to have met you, and don’t forget it. Don’t ever forget this moment.” Her hand wiped the tears from my face as her own streamed down her cheeks.
I had no idea what she was talking about, but I knew she was almost gone. Her voice had gotten so quiet, her breathing ragged. “They’ll come one day. Appear in the sky.” My heart hammered in my chest as she spoke, the words sounded so foreign to me. I glanced over to the night stand and saw the half empty bottle of pills, and assumed she was hallucinating. She tried to take off her necklace, which she had never done before, but I put my hand on hers and stopped her from over-exerting herself. Her eyes were closed and she whispered softly. I had to move in, our cheeks pressed together tightly. “Wear the necklace. When they come...wear the necklace.” She coughed hard, but I kept close. I could feel her breath on my face, hardly there at all. “Promise me, Dean. Promise me. When the ships come...wear the necklace...”
“I promise,” I said.
Her breathing stopped, and I held her close to me one last time.
FOUR
The pendant was cold on my skin, and I found the sensation comforting. I’d seen it on my wife so many times that it was strange to be wearing it. I kept an eye on the news as I made a sandwich and dumped my lukewarm beer down the sink. There was a near worldwide ban on airplanes, helicopters, air balloons; really, anything that could be seen as an act of hostility. The countries that eagerly fired upon the ships had given up, and now were mere observers of the phenomenon like the rest of the world.
England had shut down their nuclear plants and most countries had followed their lead. They figured anything generating power like that might be a quick target for the intruders, and the result if they were targeted would be catastrophic. This left many nations running on low power grids or backup power. As I heard this on TV, I saw the streetlights turn on from the photocells telling them the sun was going down; then, just as fast, they went dark. The power in the house followed suit, and I was left in darkness, slopping mayo on a piece of rye bread.
“What’s going on?” James asked from the dim living room.
I reached into my side drawer and pulled out an LED flashlight that doubled as a small lantern. Growing up in the country, I was used to storms blowing out the power, and my dad always had flashlights sitting around where they were easily accessible.
“Power’s out.” I passed him the lantern. He set it down on the coffee table and I grabbed a couple of candles and lit them, leaving them flickering on the kitchen island. “Still no change out there.”
James stretched and checked his watch. “Just before seven. Sun’s almost down, and these things still haven’t done anything! God, I just wish they would do something already.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted them to do anything but leave. Quickly and quietly.
“Do you want a sandwich?” I asked, and jumped back as the pendant on my chest seared my skin with heat. “What the hell was that?” James looked at me, alarmed, as I grabbed the chain and pulled the pendant out, leaving my shirt to protect my skin. It was glowing bright green.
James moved to help me, and in an instant, he was bathed in a green light coming through my house from above.
“Dean! Help me!” he called as his feet left the ground. He was screaming, but my heart pounded in my ears so heavily I could hardly hear his shriek. I was sure my ears must have been bleeding, and I covered them hard with the palms of my hands. James was being lifted up by an outside force, his feet above the back of the couch now. I ran to him and tried to put my arms around his legs. I was jolted back from the green field surrounding him, and I watched as he headed towards the ceiling. The pendant was still glowing hotly as he moved into the ceiling, passing through it like a ghost. He shot me a terrified look right before he crossed into my upstairs.
I shot up onto unstable legs, which were shaking like I’d just run a marathon. I half ran, half crawled up the stairs and made for the room James would be floating through. There he was! I hurled myself towards his screaming, green-light-covered body and tried to grab on to his legs. The light repelled me and sent me sprawling to the corner of my guest room, a floor lamp whacking me on the head.
“James!” I called to him, but he just kept screaming. In mere moments, he was gone.
I slowly got to my feet and looked out the window. Thousands of green lights were beaming down. Every person on my block was floating towards the darkening sky; the terror in the air was palpable. I felt the urge to vomit and choked back that first bite of my sandwich. The pendant still glowed hot green and kept glowing until every last soul was gone. The green lights blinked out, and the shadow of the ship I could still see vanished into the dark atmosphere.
The ships left at dusk.
______________
There are many feelings one goes through when they experience something traumatic. I quickly went to denial. There was no way I’d actually witnessed my city being teleported off the planet by a huge alien cube ship. It was so impossible that, clearly, I was having a dream; hallucinating from an illness or an accident, maybe. For all I knew, I was lying in a hospital bed, morphine flowing through my veins, and I was dreaming the whole thing up. Janine was probably by my side holding my hand, telling me it would all be all right. My clients’ get-well cards would surround the room, and those cheesy balloons would be floating beside my head, tied to the hospital bed. As I lay on the guest room floor with my eyes closed, that scenario seemed likely. I could almost hear the steady beeping of the hospital equipment, keeping an eye on my blood pressure and oxygen levels.
I must have stayed there, curled up in the fetal position, for half an hour before I braved opening my eyes. My heart had been pounding so hard I thought it would expel itself from the cage it was trapped in. It finally relaxed and I felt almost normal. The pendant hung cool around my neck, its color just the regular green I’d always seen on my wife.
The noises I’d heard in my daydream were multiple car alarms going off a few blocks away. Soon even they stopped, to leave me with an eerily quiet night. I heard a dog bark down the street. I was now in the grieving phase. James’ look of terror as I helplessly watched him ghost through my roof and into the night sky was ingrained in my memory. I realized I didn’t know if the ships had done this everywhere, or if I was just in an unlucky pocket. I tested my shaky legs and found them sturdy enough to carry me back downstairs.
I didn’t have a landline, so I reached for my cell phone and tried to call my mom first. A lovely robotic operator told me my call couldn’t be completed as dialed. I then started to go through my contacts one at a time and got the same message. I texted, tweeted, emailed...all with no reply from anyone out there.
It was after nine when I forced myself to eat something and slumped my head down on the kitchen island. Acceptance came next. I had a sneaking suspicion I was all alone. Then I heard a noise that had annoyed me on a daily occurrence: the sound of a howling cocker spaniel piercing through two sets of walls. Carey was a great dog, but he had what you might call a little separation anxiety, like so many others before him. Anytime Susan left him in the house alone, h
e would howl like there was no tomorrow. He would only do this for about five minutes; then I always pictured him sobbing into a pillow. More likely he just curled up on the back of the couch and slept.
His calls now were primal. He was howling to the aliens to return his mommy, and I’m sure the green light that had sucked her into the sky had left him a frightened mess. I left the comfort of my home and stepped onto the doorstep. The air had a chill to it, but other than that, there was no way to tell that I’d been left alone on Earth. The streetlights were still dark, but the now cloudless sky’s moon and stars shone down on me, lighting the way easily. I headed over to Susan’s house and as I passed by the window, Carey switched from a howl to a bark. He recognized me, and when I approached the front door, I could see his wiggling form twisting back and forth like only a spaniel could do.
Not sure if the door would be locked or not, I felt a little trepidation at the idea of breaking into my neighbor’s house. It seemed silly to me after what had just happened, but that sense of normalcy wasn’t something that just left on a dime. Lucky for me, she was as trusting as most people on our street, and the door was unlocked.
A blonde ball of fur jumped at me, licking my hands as he romped and hopped around. It was so refreshing to see such a normal, comforting act from a sweet animal after watching James float out of my reach. He followed me as I went into the kitchen. I couldn’t leave him behind, since I didn’t know where I was going to be going or for how long. I thought about all the rest of the animals out there, scared and alone, but pushed them from my mind. I was only one man, and hopefully, this would all be over at any time. I didn’t know what the aliens could possibly want with the people of Earth. Maybe this was just a test. Maybe they would return all the people in a few minutes. I didn’t believe that, but it was a possibility.
I would be leaving in the morning and Carey would be coming along for the ride, so I needed to find all of his supplies. I grabbed his dog dish, which made him throw a low growl at me, before searching for his bag of food. I found it in the basement, along with some treats and cans of wet food. I took it all. Carey barked as I seized the bag of treats and packed it. I tossed a salmon treat at him and he deftly caught it. He was really funny, looking up at me, turning his head side to side so his ears alternately flopped and hung there.
All loaded up, I found his leash, and he looked excited to be going for a walk.
“Carey, we’re just going over to my house. We don’t have time to go for a walk,” I said. Carey’s head turned sideways, and he gave me the saddest puppy-dog look I’d ever seen.
“Fine. But just a quick walk.” I was already under his command, it appeared.
Twenty minutes later and a deposit from Carey on the Jeffersons’ lawn, we were back at my house. Carey hesitantly investigated my home, and I left him to sniff around like a pig looking for truffles. There was something I had to get from my office, and I wasn’t looking forward to. Since I’d seen the ships arrive, I knew I would have to open the letter. I’d envisioned the moment I’d open it for the past three years, and I wasn’t sure if I truly was ready to see her handwriting, or to smell a waft of her perfume on the paper.
Janine hadn’t explained why the letter couldn’t be opened as soon as she was gone. We were in the hospital when she handed it to me, her hands shaking slightly as she passed it over. We’d argued for a few minutes about it, but after I knew she wouldn’t budge on the contents of the envelope, I ceased to protest and accepted what she asked of me. I wouldn’t open it until the right moment. She told me that I’d know when that was. Over the next three years, there were a few times when I’d almost opened the thing, when I was so down in a well of depression that I thought the only thing that would save me would be seeing her words written down. Every time, I got through it on my own, and I knew for sure that now was indeed the right time to open it. It just felt right in every sense of the word, and not only that; it all fit together like some odd puzzle that I couldn’t see the full picture of yet.
Carey followed me upstairs and into the office, pushing his face into my leg as I stood there facing my closet. He rolled on the carpet as I opened the door and pulled a shoe box down from the top shelf. The letter was sealed shut and “Dean” was scrawled across the front in shaky handwriting. I sat down at my desk and set the lantern flashlight down so I could see it. It had been a tough day: not only the dredging up all of the memories from back then, but also the fact that I was sure I was the only man left on Earth. How did it come that I was here while they were all gone? I hoped for an answer as I slid my letter opener through the top, careful not to rip the paper inside.
My dearest Dean, I’m sorry you have to read this now. I know you have so many questions, but I can’t answer them all. I only know a few details, and I’m unfortunately not around to tell you about it. I love you. I don’t know how long it’s been since I passed to when you are reading this, but I hope you’ve stayed strong through everything. Take heed that there is help, and you won’t be alone for long. I miss you as I write this and you just left the room a few minutes ago. Don’t forget that. Don’t ever forget that I loved you so much and always will. Go to New York, Toronto Dominion on Broadway and 50th. Safety deposit box 107. The key is in the back yard under the bird bath.
And Dean
She stopped there, and it felt like she had more to say but didn’t. Maybe she was too weak or tired. I would never know.
I wiped a single tear from my face and felt a sudden resolve, a sense of purpose. Janine was telling me it was up to me to save the human race, and I had a clue where to go to do this.
FIVE
I tried to sleep for a few hours, but I just ended up tossing and turning; the whole day was a nightmare replaying itself in my mind. Carey was curled up at the bottom of the bed, snoring lightly on his side. I was amazed at the adaptability of the animal and decided to take a page out of his book for myself. This was the world at the moment, and I was the only one here to do anything about it. My truck was packed with everything I thought I’d need for the trip, and I just had a quick stop in the morning to fill up and grab a bunch of gas cans to keep me going. I’d found a brand-new generator in Bob-next-door’s garage, and I didn’t think he’d mind me borrowing it under the circumstances. It was an eleven-hundred-watt beast with a ten-gallon tank. I figured it would be able to handle anything I would need it for on my journey.
After what felt like hours, I decided to just get the trip started. I thought I’d test the generator and make some coffee. It was the right call. I had a bag of clothes packed, with a few winter items and shorts. I had no idea what I was in for and wanted to be prepared. Coffee in hand, and Carey and I on empty bladders, we hopped into the truck just as the sun was peeking from beyond the horizon. For a second, I thought the ships might come back at dawn, but the sky held nothing but wispy clouds and some dim stars.
We made a few pit stops at the gas station and convenience store, and then we were off. I felt bad not paying for anything. I knew that there was no one to pay, but these things were ingrained in our brains from childhood; right and wrong are always right and wrong. I had a hundred-mile drive to go, and I figured under ideal conditions it would take me just over two hours. I was wrong. The streets were full of crashed cars near town, and it took some heavy maneuvering to get around some of them. Maneuvering meant pushing with my truck’s bumper on occasion. Carey stuck his head out the window, sitting in the front passenger seat with his tongue flapping in the cool fall morning air. I sipped my coffee as we slowly made it past the car piles and through to the outskirts of town. Once I made it to the highway, the roads were sparsely littered with vehicles, and I was able to go forty miles per hour.
“Carey,” I said, and his head turned as he looked at me, “how are you doing? I’m sorry you’re stuck with me like this. I know you must miss your mom a lot.” He turned his head the other way and staring with that sad spaniel face. “I want you to know that I’m actually very thankful
to have you with me. You’d think I’d be used to being alone, but truthfully, I’ve never been good at it.” He slipped his butt to the back of the seat and plopped down, putting his head between his front paws, all the while never breaking his gaze.
“I’ve always wanted a dog. We had one growing up on the acreage. I remember the day my dad brought home Johnny. What? Don’t judge me. Johnny is a perfectly respectable name for a dog. Plus, he told me I could name him, and I was obsessed with The Karate Kid that summer. Anyway, Johnny came tromping over to me in the yard, all ears and paws. I must have been around seven, and he seemed so huge even as a puppy. I still have no idea what breed he was, but he ended up weighing around sixty pounds. We were inseparable for his whole life.
Unfortunately, big dogs have short life spans, and he passed the summer before I went into high school. I was depressed for a year, I think, and when my parents suggested we get another dog, I slammed the door and said I hated them. We didn’t get a dog, and I’ve never had one since Johnny.” It felt strange but cathartic to talk to Carey about this. He lay still, eyes slowly closing to the sound of my voice. “So, Carey, hey? I have a feeling Susan didn’t name you after Jim Carrey, although I can see the resemblance between you two. In a good way, of course.” His eyes closed and soon he was snoring softly. I put my focus back on the road and noticed as we got nearer to New York City how many cars were jammed on the north bound highway. People were frightened by the sheer volume of ships that had been hovering over their city, no doubt, and thought they might find solace in the countryside. It appeared no one had been safe from the beams of the ships, at least not as far as I could tell.
The Survivors Box Set Page 3
