The Fate of Nations Book II The Harvest

by Laura Watson

  Further instructions will follow as we get more information.” The message was repeated continuously.

  Leslie looked out of her window into the early afternoon sky. Looming overhead was such a surreal sight that she gasped. Her legs gave out from beneath her. She sat down hard on the floor of her house and stared in disbelief at the behemoth of a ship that was just hanging in the sky, covering over half of the entire skyline above Norfolk. This can not be happening, she thought wildly, and even though she had helped to write the article about the impending approach of the ships, she could not believe what she was seeing. Her mind could not accept the solid steel reality of the alien ship overhead. It hovered there at over ten thousand feet up in the clear afternoon sky, soundless, motionless, a colossal gleaming machine of extraordinary proportions. Even from where she sat, on the floor of her living room, looking up, she could see the strange writing on the ship. It was covered in strangely configured symbols made up of lines and dots, much like cuneiform script, she thought.

  Sirens blared out into the evening air and people began to crowd the streets in front of her house, looking up into the sky, pointing excitedly, some were crying, and some were screaming.

  Leslie stood up shakeningly and closed the living room blinds. She walked deliberately and slowly into each room and closed each blind, locking the windows tightly as she did. She gathered her candles and pulled some quilts out of the closet and placed them into her bedroom. She went quickly to work filling every container she could find with water, filling the bathtub last. She made a quick phone call to her son, and then to her neighbors before switching the breaker back off again. She listened long into the night to the sirens, the screams and the shouts as the colossal ships hung silently in the night sky.

  Kevin read the daily paper in disbelief. “Is this some sort of fucking joke?” He asked Carla, placing the paper on the table between them. They sat at an empty booth after work at Starters, sipping fifty cent coffees that Kevin had splurged for. “I don't think so Kev,” she replied, her face showing the first signs of the panic she felt. “I saw something on the news about it too.” “Why am I just hearing about this?” Kevin asked amazed.

  “Dude,” Carla replied in exasperation, “You've had your head buried in a lab book almost every night this week and you wear those damn earbuds at work all the time, and then you ask why you haven't heard anything?!” Kevin looked at her sheepishly, “yeah, well, I had a midterm to study for, and I wear earbuds so I don't have to listen to a bunch of assholes chewing the fat all day while I'm busting my ass cleaning the tables in here.” “Well now you know why you haven't heard anything Kevin, Carla jabbed, “but seriously, what do you think about all this?” Carla said, pointing to the headline of the Journal, her hand shaking as she held the paper.

  Kevin read the article again, not wanting to believe that it was true, “It's got to be some kind of practical joke the Editor is playing on us, Carla,” Kevin stated matter of factly. “I mean, this is so bizarre, it just couldn't be true.” Carla tilted her head to the side. “Do you hear that?” she asked, her eyes wide and fearful.

  “Hear what?” Kevin replied, not looking up from the paper. “Sirens,” she said shakily. “I don't hear anything..” he began, then the whooping of a fire engine's siren erupted down the street, coming closer.

  Carla and Kevin looked at each other and then jumped up from the booth and ran to the front window of the restaurant to see what was going on out there. A smell of electricity charged the air around them and Kevin watched in utter terror as the light fixtures blew off of the wall followed by a three foot bolt of blue electricity that shot out of the scorched sockets. The old wood framed building that housed Starters began to crackle and burn. In less than ten minutes the entire dining room had filled up with black choking smoke.

  Kevin dropped to his knees and pulled Carla down beside of him. “We have to get out of here,” he shouted over the wailing of the sirens outside. He crawled on his hands and knees towards the front exit with Carla holding onto his shirt and following behind him. The cloying black smoke stung his eyes and nose. He gulped in the last fresh air near the floor and wriggled out of the front door as the dining room ceiling collapsed in flames. Carla lay just inside the door. She wasn't moving. Kevin pulled his shirt up over his nose and mouth and crawled back inside the doorway to pull her out. He managed to pull her outside and away from the building onto the side lawn. That's when he saw the first ship.

  Kevin smacked at Carla's cheeks, trying to get her to respond and then gave her mouth to mouth, warily eying the overhead ship as he worked to revive his friend. Carla coughed and then vomited onto the soft green manicured lawn of Starters as she came to. After a coughing fit that lasted two or three minutes, she followed Kevin's gaze to the overhead ship and screamed. “Oh my God Kevin!” she screamed shrilly, “We have to get out of here!” Kevin's eyes were fastened to the ship, watching as smaller ships began to detach from it. “Kevin!!” Carla screamed in terror, “Come on!!” She pulled at Kevin's arm, almost pulling him on top of her in her panic. “Calm the fuck down,”

  Kevin yelled back, trying to loose himself from her death clutch. “Carla!” he shouted, then saw the wild terrified look on her face.

  Kevin had never hit a girl in his life, but Carla was starting to look hysterical. Kevin raised his hand and smacked her hard across the face. “Carla!” he shouted, “you have got to calm down!” Carla looked at him like she had never seen him before, her terror had taken her mind somewhere else. She let go of his arm and stood up quickly. Kevin jumped to his feet and Carla bolted across the street towards a crowd of people on the corner that stood gawking up at the ship. Kevin started after her then saw something that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

  Just as Carla reached the throng of people on the corner, the entire group of them, probably a hundred or so in all, Kevin thought, just flew up into the sky towards the gargantuan ship parked overhead. It looked to Kevin like someone had turned on a huge vacuum cleaner and just sucked them up into the sky.

  Kevin instinctively backed away and then turned to run. He ran to the opposite end of the street where a convenience store sat tucked in between two tall buildings. Kevin flung the door open and ran inside.

  Ten terrified people stood at the windows of the store looking out and up at the pervading image of the enormous ship just hanging in the sky over the city of Norfolk. Kevin saw that the sky was darkened by black specks rising upward and realized what he was seeing.

  Thousands of people were being pulled into the ship.

  Kevin's legs gave way beneath him and he sat down hard on the cool tiled floor of the store. He put his hands over his face and wept.

  Day 24—

  Leslie read her tattered Bible by candle light, her nose pressed close to the pages of the worn book, lost in the ancient story of Noah and the Great Flood. Her bedroom was dark except for the small warm light of the candle flame that cast larger than life shadows of her and her cats on the opposite wall.

  Some nights, to pass the time, she made shadow puppets, entertaining herself and giving the cats something to chase. Tonight, she was bent studiously over her Bible, pouring over the story of Noah, engrossed in ancient times and the lives of ancient people.

  Bootsie was curled up contentedly on her lap, and the other cats were perched at the window. They sat at the window every night, or roamed the house on silent patrol. They padded along on whisper quiet feet, roaming ceaselessly.

  She glanced at her two cats who now sat

  guardedly in the window beside of her and then stiffened. Their ears were laid back and a soft growl had begun to form in their throats, low at first, but gaining volume as they watched some unseen horror outside.

  Every nerve in Leslie's body tensed. She listened intently, her head tilted to one side, her eyes wide and alarmed. She stared at the window, as if expecting Satan himself to come leaping through it. She sure had picked one rotten fucking time to quit sm
oking.

  Leslie Watts was alone, except for her three cats, in the small two bedroom house she had lived in for the past ten years. She had been inside for almost a month now. Every day, she carefully marked a line through the pale blue number, marking off each day of her survival on one of the old wild life calendars that hung on her walls.

  During the daylight hours, she heard a cacophony of screams and shouts, of metal clanging and the screech of metal against metal. At night, it was the sound of a mournful wind sighing through the trees and whistling through the eaves of her house.

  She knew the Grays couldn't come inside of her house, hadn't she helped to write that article in the paper? , they couldn't. She stared at the window and nervously bit her lip. She knew that they never came to the surface at night either. She reread the front page article. Yes, I 'm right, it's right here, she assured herself, as if she hadn't written that article, herself.

  They didn't come to the surface at night. Leslie wanted to believe it was the truth, but she knew that her sources could always be wrong. It was better not to take chances. Stay quiet, she told herself, stay hidden. It was the only way she would make it out of this alive. Stay quiet, stay hidden. She had to be careful, everything was getting so crazy now, so fucking crazy.

  The three cats that shared Leslie's home reacted to the slightest movement outside. They diligently watched the events of the world around them unfold.

  Their eyes peered out into the daylight and dark of night with keen interest. One of them was always on guard, sitting on the window sill, squeezed between the drawn shade and the double-paned glass of the cottage style windows. Their eyes followed the Grays up and down, as they moved from the sky to the Earth, seeming to float on the air as they traveled to and from their ships stationed overhead.

  The two cats at the window stayed in their fighting stance for only a few minutes, minutes that seemed like hours to Leslie, and then jumped down from their perches. They stretched lazily, brushing past Leslie's legs as they walked out of the bedroom and silently into the kitchen where they took up their watch again at the bay windows, hoping they might be afforded a more interesting view.

  Leslie slumped in relief, the sudden rush of adrenalin leaving her drained. She petted her cat, Bootsie, a small tuxedo cat with white feet, who still lay contentedly on her lap, oblivious to the excitement his fellow felines had just caused. As all hell was breaking loose in the world outside, he lay curled up in her lap, snoring softly.

  Leslie lost interest in reading and sat for awhile listening to the wind blow through the trees outside of her small house. It blew steadily tonight, through the same trees that she had planted herself, seven or eight years earlier. It seemed like a soft warm dream now.

  She shook her head, clearing away the warm comfort of yesterdays and thought about what she needed to do next.

  The floor was cold, even on the pile of old quilts she had laid in the corner for her bed. She didn't feel safe sleeping on the bed anymore, she felt safer on the floor, in the far corner of her bedroom, her back against the wall. She pulled her knees up under her chin, and laid her head wearily down on them. Leslie fell asleep as the candle flame flickered and burned low. Her cat Bene curled up protectively beside of her. Bootsie had taken the watch.

  The store clerk at the Mellow Out! convenience store stood alongside the nine others at the window.

  They were mesmerized by the horror show taking place in the skies above the city. Kevin wiped his eyes and his runny nose on his shirt tail and stood up. His mind raced alarmingly as he tried to think back to what he had read in the paper earlier. It seemed like a lifetime ago now. What had it said?

  Stay inside, he remembered that, don't look into their eyes, he remembered that, but he drew a blank on the rest. His brain was quickly becoming overloaded and he tried desperately to calm himself down. He looked away from the window and took in a deep breath, exhaling slowly. His head began to clear. He breathed in another deep breath, and exhaled slowly. He began to feel a little more calm.

  Kevin stood with his back to the window

  breathing in deeply and exhaling slowly until his panic passed. The people at the window began filing out of the store. He heard the jingle of the door's bell as first one then another stepped out into the afternoon horror show.

  “What the hell are you doing?!” Kevin shouted and ran to the door as a small, middle aged man was just opening the door to go outside. The small man looked at him stonily and said “Get out of my way kid.”

  “Don't go out there!” Kevin shouted, but the man pushed past him and stepped quickly across the street to get a better view of the massive ship that dominated the sky over them. Kevin watched helplessly as each one of the people except for the clerk, stepped outside against his protests.

  “They have lost their fucking minds,” the store clerk commented, shaking his head in amazement.

  “There's no way I would go out there.” Kevin watched the small band of people reassemble across the street.

  They stood there for maybe five minutes before a small ship that had descended from the main craft pulled them up into the air and shot straight up to unload them on the massive ship.

  Kevin turned away from the window and faced the store clerk. “I think I'm gonna puke,” he said and swayed towards a shelf loaded with snack cakes. “Whoa buddy, take it easy,” the clerk said as he reached to steady Kevin. “Come on in back and sit down for a few minutes.” He led Kevin to the rear of the store to a small office that wasn't much bigger than a broom closet where a small desk and chair had been crammed in. It served as the manager's office and employee break room. Kevin sat down in the padded swivel chair behind the desk and laid his head down on the cool metal desk top. “What the fuck?” he moaned aloud. “What the fuck!”

  The clerk's name was Harry. He waited until Kevin had rested and was beginning to talk coherently again before telling him. He was an ex Marine who had been discharged in 2005 for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Oh fucking great, Kevin thought to himself.

  As if those fucking aliens outside weren't scary enough, now this. Harry must have read his mind because he said hurriedly, “It's not like that man,” I won't go ballistic on your ass or anything, I just saw some bad shit over in Iraq.”

  Kevin was ashamed of himself for what he'd been thinking and held his hand out to Harry. “I'm Kevin, nice to meet you dude.” Harry grasped his hand and shook it. “Same here man.” he said, adding with a grin, “now let's get some shit organized in here. It looks like we're going to be stuck in this hole for a good minute.”

  “A convenience store isn't the worst place in the world to be stuck though, we got everything we need.”

  Kevin nodded his head in agreement as they went to work piling up food and water supplies to last them for their stay.

  Kevin looked at the pile of canned food, chips and candy, along with an entire rack of snack cakes, beside of the counter. It was enough food to feed at least five people for a few months.

  After looking in the back, the two discovered even more boxes of supplies. They wouldn't be running out of anything anytime soon. “Now we just gotta chill until those assholes leave.” Harry said, lifting a box of bottled water up to carry it to the back.

  “We also have to guard against anybody trying to come in on us and steal our stash.” he added. Kevin hadn't really thought about that scenario, until now. It put Kevin's mind in a dilemma. On one hand, if someone came in, they would be just as desperate as he and Harry were to stay alive, why not help them? On the other hand, he and Harry needed everything they had, and who knew how long those alien fucks were going to actually be out there?

  The paper could always be wrong about the time frame. He just hoped that he wouldn't have to face the decision to help someone else or watch them die. He didn't know if he could make that decision. Harry did though. Harry had made that decision many times before. It was why he was all fucked up in his head now.

  The days passed by, as r
elentless as a slow death, as Kevin and Harry became adjusted to their new routines. Harry was clearly in survival mode, his eyes constantly scanned the sidewalk in front of the store for intruders. His body was taut and poised to fight. When he wasn't standing watch, he exercised ceaselessly. He dropped to churn out pushups. He jogged in place. He did sit ups, and he paced restlessly when he wasn't catching a few hours of sleep.

  Kevin watched Harry warily, still not altogether sure this man's noodle wasn't baked. Kevin hated exercising, he'd never been the physical type, choosing instead to retreat from reality in a good book or science magazine. The many magazines and paperback novels, that adorned the stands of the store, were his retreat, now, as he faced each new terrifying day of hiding with Harry.

  Harry set up a watch schedule of eight on and eight off, handing Kevin a revolver with five bullets in it that he had fished out from behind the counter. It wasn't for the Grays that were zipping back and forth through the skies though, even Kevin had heard that they weren't affected by the primitive weapons of Earth.

  The revolver was for any crazy ass human who tried to come in on them.

  Week three had passed as monotonously as the first two weeks at the store. Kevin lay on the floor in the back office reading one of the paper backs. It was noon and the place was sweltering hot. Kevin sipped a bottle of water and mopped his sweaty face with a wad of paper towels he had pulled off the large roll in the stinking bathroom. The water had stopped working after the second week and that bathroom was smelling pretty foul. They kept the door closed and a stack of papers pushed up against it to keep the smell in, but the reeking odor emanated out of it anyway.

  Kevin lay in a pool of sweat reading while Harry stood the first watch of the day. The sound of a gunshot rang out in the stifling air. Kevin jumped up and threw his book aside, his heart racing. He listened as another shot exploded the glass front of the store. He heard Harry yelling “You motherfuckers! Come get some!”