D. MacHale - Storm

“Tell that to the people of Boston,” Tori said.

We drove on in silence, skirting abandoned cars and burnedout jetliners. As we approached the city, I scanned the skyline for any buildings that might be missing, but I didn’t know Boston well enough to pick any out.

As we drove across the Tobin Bridge that spanned the Charles River and led to downtown, I looked down to see a jetliner floating with its tail barely above water.

“Boston’s dead,” Olivia said softly and with finality.

Nobody argued.

Kent turned south on Storrow Drive, which took us along the Charles. Looking left to the city, we saw no signs of life. Looking right to the Charles, we spotted two more half-submerged plane wrecks and many small boats drifting free.

“It’s beyond a nightmare,” Tori whispered.

“I don’t think anybody died in those crashes,” I said, thinking out loud.

“Impossible,” Kent snapped back.

“I’m not saying they’re not dead, I just don’t think they died in the crashes. None of those empty cars had their doors open. And we haven’t seen a single body. Not one.”

“Except for the Navy pilot outside of Portland,” Kent pointed out.

“He died in the dogfight,” I said. “That’s different. I don’t think there was a battle here. I think people were obliterated by the weapon the Air Force has, just like in Portland. How else could so many people have disappeared without a trace? Same with the airliners.”

“Then why didn’t the cars disappear along with them?” Tori asked. “Like the buildings in Portland? Or Quinn on the boat or—”

She didn’t finish the sentence. The memory was too raw.

“That guy Whittle in the Old Port said it,” I offered. “Sometimes the buildings disappeared, other times the light reached inside and took the people without touching the buildings. Who’s to say what that weapon can do? Maybe it can target organic life forms and leave structures intact… unless they choose to obliterate them.”

“We haven’t seen any animals,” Jon pointed out. “You’d think there’d be a stray dog or cat lurking around.”

“It’s horrible,” Tori said. “You’re talking about a weapon that can sweep across cities and kill thousands of people every second.”

“Yeah, I guess I am,” I said. “When we saw Portland lighting up that night, it wasn’t a battle, it was a mass execution.”

“Jeez,” Kent said, stunned.

“There wasn’t any sound,” Tori said, remembering. “No explosions. No crashes. No sirens or alarms. We would have heard that over the ocean.”

“It was probably over in minutes,” I said solemnly.

Jon added, “Dr. Kayamori and I survived because we were down in the bowels of the hospital where that weapon couldn’t reach us.”

“Which means there have to be other survivors who were protected the same way,” I declared. “We’re not going to be totally alone.”

“I can’t believe this,” Tori said, stunned. “We’re talking about the United States Air Force systematically wiping out the population of two major cities.”

“Maybe my idea isn’t so farfetched,” Kent said. “This really could be an alien invasion.”

“Aliens that put Air Force logos on their planes?” I asked, incredulous.

“Who cares what kind of logos they have! Maybe they use the same logo on the planet Nimnac! I’ve never heard of any weapon that can do this. It makes nukes seem like BB guns.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t believe that we’ve been invaded by creatures from another planet,” I said adamantly.

“I can’t believe any of this!” Kent bellowed. “But we’re looking at the possible annihilation of the human race. There, I said it. Portland’s been wiped out. Boston doesn’t look any better. We haven’t had communication with the rest of the world in weeks. For all we know, those planes hit every city in the country. In the world . What makes more sense? That our own military wiped out the earth’s population, or that it’s somebody from another world?”

“The entire population hasn’t been wiped out,” Tori said. “There’s SYLO.”

“Yeah, until tonight, when those planes show up again and finish off whatever’s left of those Navy ships… and Pemberwick Island.”

“Stop!” Olivia shouted, in tears. “This is horrible!”

“That’s one word for it,” Kent said. “It’s gonna be dark soon. I don’t want to be driving around when those planes fire up their ray guns.”

“We should find a place to spend the night,” I said.

Kent turned off of Storrow Drive near Fenway Park. Fenway is the greatest ballpark in the majors. At least that’s what my father always said, and I had to agree. We’d been to many games there, mostly against the Yankees and mostly to see the Sox get their butts whipped, but that didn’t make the park any less special.

It was late September. Playoff time. Fenway should have been rocking. Instead, it was dead quiet and empty, more proof of the horror that had become our new lives. Kent drove us right up to the familiar structure. There were no other cars or vending carts to stop us. Colorful Red Sox banners fluttered in the breeze, a cruel reminder that this was a place where people came for fun. Now it was an empty shell in a city of the dead.

Kent said, “Maybe the Sox were safe deep down in the locker room when—WHOA!”

He jammed on the brakes, and we came to an abrupt stop.

Twenty yards ahead of us, hovering a few feet above the roadway, was a black Air Force plane. It was like we had rounded the bend in a wooded trail and came upon a snake that was coiled and ready to strike.

The moment was frozen in time.

We sat there like two gunslingers, waiting for the other to twitch. The music of the plane’s engines was faint, but I heard it.

“What do I do?” Kent asked with a strained, terrified whisper.

I looked around quickly, hoping to see an escape route or at least some protection to shield us from the plane. There was nothing.

Tori slowly moved her hand forward and opened the glove compartment.

“You’re dreaming,” Kent cautioned.

“You have a better idea?” Tori asked.

While looking straight ahead at the plane, Tori eased the gun out and cocked a bullet into the chamber.

“Open the sunroof,” she commanded.

“You can’t be serious,” Olivia cried.

“Open the sunroof,” Tori repeated through gritted teeth.

Kent followed orders. He hit the button on the dash and the sunroof slid open while Tori unlocked her seat belt.

“I’m going to stand up and start shooting,” Tori said.

“No!” Jon cried. “You’ll get us killed!”

“If I’m going to die,” Tori said without looking back at him, “I’m going to do some damage first. Kent, when I start firing, get us the hell out of here.”

I wanted to stop her but didn’t know what else we could do.

Kent tightened his grip on the wheel.

Olivia whimpered with fear.

Jon dropped down to the floor.

Tori slipped out of her seat belt and made a move to stand up…

…as the music from the black plane grew louder. It was powering up its engines.

Slowly, it began to float toward us.

“Too late!” Kent yelled.

He threw the Explorer into reverse and jammed his foot on the gas.

“No!” Tori screamed and fell back into her seat with a grunt of pain.

I pushed Olivia down to the floor, for whatever good that would do.

Kent was twisted around backward, a wild look in his eyes, as he fought to stay in control of the SUV.

“Is it coming?” he shouted.

“It’s rising into the air,” I replied. “And closing.”

“Damn!” Kent bellowed. “Hang on!”