Nathan Hystad: The Survivors: Books 1-3

I almost felt it calling me from inside one of the large plastic storage containers. James leaned against the wall, watching me through squinted eyes as I walked over to it. I opened the lid and found all of Janine’s mementos from our lives together. There were little notes she’d left me on the fridge; drawings on napkins from Michaels, our favorite little Italian restaurant; and a small jewelry box. I slowly opened the felt-covered box and saw exactly what I’d expected to find. Her wedding ring, and the necklace she’d never taken off for a minute the whole time I’d known her.

Three Years Earlier

I was in bed waiting for Janine to join me when I heard her coughing from the en-suite. It was a deep, phlegm-filled cough, and it almost shocked me to hear those noises coming out of my petite wife. I went to check on her, but she wouldn’t unlock the door. I panicked when the coughing fit wouldn’t stop, and just as I was about to get a pen to pop the bathroom lock open, she opened the door. Her hair was a mess, and blood dripped from her lips. Blood covered the sink too. My heart hammered in my chest as I asked her questions, but she wouldn’t reply – couldn’t reply. She turned white and passed out in my arms.

The doctors didn’t know what was wrong with her, but they figured it was some tuberculosis mutation they’d never seen before. She spent more time in hospitals than anyone should have to and took it all with grace only she could muster. It was the strangest thing. I could never get her to seem realistic about it. I cried when they told her she would probably die within six months, and she put her hands to my face, streaming with tears, and told me I would be okay. That this was just her path.

I should have known then that something was off.

W e headed back to my house, and after being bombarded by James’ questions, I did need a beer. The day had been tough for me, as I’m sure it had been for most of the world. I’d almost forgotten about the ships in the sky around the world, I was so lost in my past.

The street was empty of people, and I didn’t know if they had left town or if they were all hunkering down in their homes. We pulled up and grabbed our supplies from the back of the truck. Carey barked a friendly hello from Susan’s window as we walked up my driveway. I gave him a wave, and I saw him wag his tail in reply. I’d always wanted a dog, but Janine had been terrified of them. She said they’d hated her since she could remember, and even Carey, the world’s wiggliest dog, seemed to raise his hackles at her. In the past two years, I’d really thought about getting a pup to keep me company, but it seemed like I’d be dishonoring her in some way. I knew it was stupid, and Janine would have told me to get one if she could.

Inside the house, I turned the TV on after dropping the supplies in the kitchen. It was dark in Moscow, where they showed a riot in the streets. Looters ran rampant in London, and there were stories coming in about some groups of people found dead in Ohio; presumably a cult ritual. Still, none of the ships had moved an inch, as far as anyone could tell. They seemed to move along with the Earth’s rotation; some sort of geostationary orbit within our atmosphere.

It was almost three o’clock local time, and I was starting to feel worried. The news said that it had been almost nine hours since their arrival, and that they came near dawn on the east coast of the USA. No one knew what implication this had, or if it was relevant at all. I think the waiting and wondering was doing a number on everyone, as if them coming down and doing something – anything – would have been better.

High definition cameras showed the world the many details of the cubes, as they were calling them, and the metal-looking outsides were a stark contrast to the smooth, almost marble-like look of the smaller, sleeker ships. They weren’t sure on the exact size, but estimations put them at three miles per side. Massive. There were five over the United States. Sixteen over China. If I was a betting man, population was the motivation for the amount of these cubes over the world. One of them nestled in the sky, hovering there above New York, an ominous black alien vessel taunting the population.

“What the hell are these things? I mean, all those little ships and then the huge ones,” James asked. “Do you think they’re full of aliens? Are they going to land?”

“We’re going to just have to wait and see. I think there are a lot more qualified people out there than us to figure it out,” I said.

“This is just insane, isn’t it, Dean?” James had grabbed a couple beers, twisted the cap off one, and passed it over to me. “I mean, every one of us has wondered if there could be life from outer space, and here’s proof. And what do we do? Loot, kill, and panic.”

“That’s the way we’re built. Mob mentality and all of that other Psych 101 stuff I slept through in school,” I said, turning the volume up on the TV.

It was dark across the ocean, and some areas were using large searchlights to see the ships. A haunting image scrolled onto the screen from Hungary of the huge white moon with the black silhouette of one of the sleek ships in front of it. It sent shivers down my spine. James cleared his throat. “This isn’t going to end well.”

Moscow was in flames. Missiles had been fired for over an hour at the ships, both the huge cubes and the smaller, gray ships, and they hadn’t moved or shown any sign of damage. It was absurd! We sat there for a couple hours, drinking a few beers, and watching the news. The world was getting more volatile, more wound up every minute. World leaders were trying to keep everyone calm, people of every religion were speculating about end times. The United States’ most popular TV evangelist swore it was the Rapture. God’s wrath was now upon us for creating war and destruction, and through it all, people were frightened.

My stomach sank as I watched it all happening. My wife’s calm words on her deathbed rang over and over in my ears. I reached into my pocket and grabbed the box that held the necklace. I put the wedding ring back in the box and held the gold chain. The pendant was made out of some sort of crystal; a beautiful green hue glowed out of it. I’d thought it was fluorite, but Janine had said it was far rarer than that. She hadn’t elaborated, and I’d never pressed her on it. I just knew it was from her real parents, and that it was very important to her.

My stomach growled and I looked at the clock. It was almost six thirty, and I heard James snoring in my recliner. I decided to leave him peacefully sleeping while I made a sandwich. I heard Janine’s words race through my mind again and I decided to heed her wishes. I put the chain around my neck and tucked the pendant under my shirt.

Three Years Ago

J anine was in bed sleeping soundly when I stepped into the room. The hot soup cup was burning my hands, and I just stood there with the pain. I felt like I needed the distraction, like the burning would make my other pain go away somehow. Even though we were in our own house, the smell of the hospital still stuck in my nostrils, and I wasn’t sure if the chemical scent would ever be gone.

It was time, and Janine demanded to come home for the end. How could I deny that beautiful woman’s wishes when she was so small and frail, her life slipping away in hours and minutes instead of decades and years like someone her age should have left?

I put the soup down, sat at the foot of the bed, and just watched her breathe. The sounds lulled me, and I felt my own eyes getting droopy. I lay down and curled up beside my wife like I always did when we went to bed. Even if it was too warm, I needed to feel her body next to mine to fall asleep. I’d become dependent on her in so many ways, and I had no idea what I was going to do when she was gone. As I closed my eyes, I thought about dying and wondered if we would be together in some sort of afterlife if I ended my own life when she was gone. My last thoughts were of a bottle of whiskey and a vial of pills before sleep took over my exhausted body.