Falling Skies 1. Extra and Ordinary

Disclaimer: I do not own "Falling Skies" no matter how much I wish I did.

**The Cornerstone**

After their mother is killed, brothers Hal, Ben, and Matt Mason set out to find their father Tom Mason. Without knowing if their father is alive, in a world invaded by aliens, and as days stretch into months, a simple mission becomes an arduous journey that one brother won't finish.

**One: Extra and Ordinary**

"A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity." – Proverbs 17:17

_Ben…_

If he did it one more time, I was going to kill him. That is if I could, but of course that was a longshot like making an 80-yard shot when your team is seconds away from being squashed like bugs by your arch rivals at regionals. I couldn't pull that kind of miracle moment off if I tried, but he could of course. He even did that exact thing, earning him the praise of the entire student body and half a dozen dates with girls. It was awesome I'll admit, but I won't admit it to him.

Thomas "Hal" Hallam Mason II doesn't need any more compliments to stroke his ego. He already has some girl named Rita, a girl with no morals and even less clothing that our mother would be shame-faced to see him with, taking caring of that department. There it goes again. He tickles her, and like claws running the length of a chalkboard, her shriek of excitement resonates throughout the house. Doesn't he know that eardrums can burst with that kind of raw, heightened frequency? Of course, he doesn't notice or care. His head is probably filled with only one thought anyways.

"She sounds like a pig squealing," Matt announced tiredly, and I burst into laughter as he runs and jumps on the end of my bed, sitting with his crossed legs.

"Shit! Blindlight…ah sorry man! Matt came in…" I instantly stopped laughing as I saw my partner, a six-foot purple-cloaked wizard turn his back on me and cast my ogre-ass into oblivion. I had worked three days on this new game, and it was all ruined before I even reached the Waters of Sun? "Geez Matt why did you come in here? Damn now I'm two levels down!" I roared, ripping off my wireless headphones and exhaling as I double checked my weaponry and power supply then turning in my computer chair to face him.

It was unlike Matt to not fire back some lame comment about me being stupid or my personal favorite buttface when he was yelled at. At least buttface was better than pimple-popper which was his pet name for Hal much to our eldest brother's chagrin and my delight. However, the kid had remained quiet, and seething with annoyance, I turned to find him lying in a ball on the end of my bed with a lacrosse helmet on to ward off Rita's giggles that floated up the stairs.

It was Hal's helmet that Matt had picked up off the floor and was now contaminating my bed with, and I cursed that he was sleeping so soundly. I couldn't yell at him to get the pimple-popper's helmet off my bed when he was so pathetic. It was after midnight and thereby well passed Matt's bedtime; he was eight after all. Besides, we all knew what happened at home between us three when Mom and Dad went out to one of Mom's late-night, swanky fundraisers hosted by her firm did not stay at home if Matt was on the receiving end of the name-calling or elbow-to-the-eye when I or Hal threw an impromptu swing or two at each other. The kid was a blabbermouth.

Sighing, I turned back to my game, finding my ogre avatar twiddling his thumbs at the mouth of the cave doubling as a saving point. I groaned at his puke-orange coloring. I had nearly forgotten that Blindlight had used his enchantments to turn him green in the first place, and he was pissed at me so I was out of luck. Since every other serious gamer that was awake and playing had far surpassed the cave, I gave up. I couldn't go anywhere from this level without a partner unless I wanted to die a fat, orange ogre in a rock cavern filled with dragons. Instead, I sat watching the blank messaging text box on the bottom of the screen, typing letters nonsensically as my ogre shuffled left a step and then right a step out of boredom.

Eventually the game prompted an "Inactivity: If you would like to save your game, click ok." message, but before I could do anything the screen went black. I was nearly up on my feet out of outrage when I realized my bedroom light was off too as a blood curdling scream filled the air. Without hesitation, I flew out of my room, stumbling over Mom's carpet rug that she insisted we couldn't wipe our feet on and nearly launching myself head first down the staircase in the darkness.

"Ow! What the h—" I began, and the lights flicked back on.

The surge of electricity buzzed around us, and the TV in the living room flicked back on as well. Car alarms and dogs barking could be heard filling the neighborhood.

"What'd you do? Did your lame magic game overpower the breaker?" Hal spat, cutting his eyes. He stood staring me down—shirtless and shoeless on yet another area rug Mom would murder us over. Rita stood behind him, facing the fireplace and scrambling to button her shirt, and Hal moved sideways to block my view of her.

"Moron," I laughed, and he stepped forward purposefully. "The whole neighborhood went out! By the way who screamed?"

"Oh…um sorry," Rita shrugged sheepishly as she made a point to grind the toe of her boot into the rug as she zipped it up. Mom wouldn't like this girl one bit, and even Hal sighed slightly in relief when no mark was left. "That was me…I should get going."

She stepped passed Hal and scooped up her purse, making her way to the front door with Hal following like a puppy. I didn't have to follow to know what was happening. I could hear the lip-smacking as clear as I heard Hal's stupid plea for her to stay. I rolled my eyes and turned to go back upstairs, but the TV caught my eye. It was a news channel, and I knew Hal or Rita must have accidentally lain on the remote in order to have that channel blaring. Hal didn't even know what a news channel was probably, and by the look of the screen, neither did the wide-eyed reporter on camera.

She held her finger to her ear like a spy as she nervously shuffled her papers before her. It was weird as the chaotic newsroom of people talking over each other could even be heard on the mic, and the blue screen to the right of the reporter's head that usually posted bullet points or pictures of the news story at hand was blank before it flashed and disappeared. The string of updates and announcements running across the bottom of the screen was the only thing that echoed the professional normalcy associated with a news channel.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we apologize for the abruptness and confusion of the last few minutes," The woman began, and I wondered who was feeding her lines as they fell from her mouth like Matt used to read when he was younger, sounding more like naming a list of things than reading a sentence. "It appears as we are flooded with reports by phone and on our blog that something indeed has entered Earth's atmosphere. It is yet unclear as to what exactly this unidentified flying object is…excuse me objects are…"

The front door slammed shut, and I blinked, pulling my focus away from the news. Hal huffed back into the room, running a hand through his hair.

"Tough break man," I snickered, and he swatted my head. He missed as I ducked quickly enough.

"Punk," He muttered, flopping onto the couch and then tugging back on his shirt. "What the hell are we watching?"

"The news," I replied, sinking into the recliner and yawning. "You should know. You put it on."

"I…well…_maybe_," He smiled fondly, and I could see him replay the last hour spent with Rita on the couch after he had stumbled home from his date that Mom and Dad had told him he couldn't go on because he had to stay and watch Matt and me. Hal had bailed thirty minutes after Dad and Mom had disappeared.

Ignoring his daydreaming, I focused on the news. The reporter sounded less robotic now as her speech became even more ludicrous. She babbled about the UFOs, informing me and Hal, who had tuned in because he was too lazy to get up, that the president was about to make an announcement.

"Probably just a military thing," Hal mused, and I silently agreed to not give him the satisfaction of being right. Give him an inch, and Hal would take the whole ruler and chunk it at my head. Of course, it was a two-way street between us as Dad always pointed out.

The woman disappeared, and a video popped onto the screen. It was dark on the video other than the moonlight that illuminated the object that covered the majority of the screen. It wasn't flying like the dart of white light on fuzzy pictures that people swore up and down were UFOs on late night documentaries. This "UFO" wasn't flying at all. It was hovering over the Boston skyline ominously. Hal and I shared a look as we leaned forward on our knees.

"…receiving reports of these UFOs not only in the New England area, but reports are flooding in internationally with objects continuing to enter Earth's atmosphere around the world. What or who this arrival is and whether it is orchestrated domestically or by extraterrestrials is still unknown. As you can see the objects seem to have come without threat…"

The video continued running as it was minimized to the side of the screen as the reporter and some other man begin to have a conversation on the other side of the screen. Yet, I wasn't paying attention. My curiosity was raised, and I ran out of the house, flinging the door open as I stared up at the sky expectantly. Hal was at my heels as we ran down the stone path to the street, and I wondered what Mom and Dad were thinking when we moved here. Seriously, we couldn't see the Boston skyline properly when we lived in a neighborhood practically infested with trees.

"Up the hill?" Hal suggested, and I nodded. Matt was asleep. He wouldn't know, and Hal kept the door unlocked as he shut it.

We ran up the slight hill that our street was on, standing on top of the stone wall that surrounded the church at the street's end. We weren't alone as hoards of neighbors had beaten us to the punch. People grazed on the lawn and stood like pillars on the wall as everyone strained to see the UFOs. Hal and I did too, and a sense of fear flooded me as I saw the UFOs hovering above the city.

I was a geek without a doubt. I didn't need Hal's reminders to inform me of that fact or even Dad's pointless encouraging speeches to be myself after every lacrosse game that I came home from perfectly cool from having taken permanent resident on the bench.

I liked books, video games, movies, and fanfictions. Monsters and wizards, zombies and aliens too—they were like my bread and butter, and I always thought it would be cool to have magical powers or even be bitten by a radioactive spider and scaling skyscrapers. Being anything different, anything unthinkable would be awesome to me, and as I rushed up the hill, a part of me felt like I was finally getting my chance. This was my opportunity to become something great, but looking at the UFOs up close, I didn't feel that great.

Something about the objects produced a fear in me, and I felt stupid for the first time. This should be the best moment of my life, and I was a scared chicken, worrying about little green men lasering me to death and wishing Mom and Dad were home. I wasn't even worthy of the title of "geek." I felt miserable looking at the UFOs and their size and power, stretching above the city. Their size was incredible, and the lines of their crafts looked like they would crush the measly helicopters and jets that hovered around them like moths to a candle, flurrying about wildly around the unlighted, heavy crafts.

Hal and I stood for a while with our shoulders pressed together since it was so crowded, listening to whispers and shouts until Hal suddenly wrenched me off the wall and pulled me halfway down the street.

"Shit! It's Mom and Dad's car!" He yelled as we sped down the hill, ducking behind a tree as the lights of our dad's four-door washed over us.

"They'll see us at the front door!" I panicked.

"Back door! Back door!" Hal said in the same urgent tone we used for our made-up reports over walkie-talkies when we were kids playing cops.

Following in his wake, I sprinted to catch up, loping down the sidewalk and cutting around the Rossmans' patio and sneaking around their garage. With more stealth than when we were kids, Hal and I shimmied over the fence at the lower end and rolled into our backyard. Hal went for the door, and we cringed as we realized it was locked. We were screwed as we heard the purr of the engine turn off in the garage and the scuffle of our parents' feet into the house.

"Boys!" Dad called as Mom instantly began talking a-mile-a-minute in the background.

"Boys!" It was Mom calling this time which meant we were even more screwed. "Boys!"

Hal and I jumped backward, darting around the house to the unlocked front door, slipping in before our parents could spot us. However, our timing was shot to hell as Matt came rushing down the stairs, looking like he did years ago when he still came into the bedroom I shared with Hal and begged us to let him sleep in the bean bag chair because the monster was in his closet again. The bean bag had a permanent shape to it—perfect for fitting a four-year-old comfortably.

"You left me by myself!" He cried half-way down the stairs.

"You what?" My mom shrieked accusingly at us as our parents emerged from the kitchen, rushing to Matt like he was bleeding.

"Hal, Ben what's going on?" Dad asked with his hands on his hips. That gesture was only comical when Hal was the one in trouble.

"Um…" Hal gulped. "We stepped outside to see the craft?" I wanted nothing better to hit Hal as his voice quavered too much, and I suddenly knew why as I spotted the offending garment gracing the floor just a few steps from Dad's foot and leaning carelessly on the edge of Mom's rug in the living room. It was pink and lacy, and Hal was a dead man walking if he shifted his eyes anymore nervously.

"Funny we didn't see you outside," Dad crossed his arms now as Mom was done assessing Matt for cuts, bruises, cigarette burns, or any other signs of torture.

"We must have come back inside," I suggested.

"And then gone back outside?" His eyebrows were raised now.

I shrugged, "Yes?"

"Oh we saw you two run with your tails between your legs all the way down the street!" Mom shrieked, tugging Matt down the stairs behind her, and he smirked triumphantly behind her evening gown.

"Sorry," I mumbled, watching Dad's gaze flit towards Hal's nervous face aimed at the bra on our living room floor.

"Sorry! Sorry? You went half-way down the street, leaving your little brother _alone_ in an unlocked house! For goodness sake's Hal, you didn't even wear shoes!" Everyone looked down to Hal's socked feet, and Dad suppressed a laugh behind Mom. "You're going to catch a cold! And the kitchen! I left a cardboard pizza and a bottle of coke for dinner! It's not rocket science boys! There's a trash can a foot away from the counter!"

She had gone over the ledge like she always does, and the further she went over the ledge, the more punishment we were going to swallow regardless of the fact that the plate of pizza I knew she was referring to was Matt's. He was the baby, the angel, and thereby perfect, guiltless one, managing to squirm in and get what he wanted after Hal and I had knocked each other out of the ring. He had more wins under our belt than Hal and I could count.

"We'll clean it up," Hal offered immediately.

"Good," She nodded and proclaimed it loudly enough for the neighbors to hear if they weren't down the street staring at UFOs. Mom pulled Matt behind her as she ascended the staircase, "I'm putting Matt to bed. The kitchen and anything else that was messed up should be spotless by the time I'm downstairs again!"

"Geez," Hal exhaled as she disappeared, and I stood rooted to my spot.

Dad walked straight to the bra on the floor and held it up and whispered, "This! We'll talk about this later!"

Hal nodded as Dad shoved the bra into Hal's lacrosse bag that was tossed in the corner. After that he did much like Hal and I had done, stopping to watch the news channel with interest. The president was occupying the screen, talking about making contact with the aliens and calling in the National Guard. All armed forces were being put on high alert.

"What do you think is going to happen?" Hal asked, staring at the screen and turning to Dad. I did too. He knew all the answers, being a tenured professor of American History at Boston University and freelance writer for various scholarly journals. It was even funnier to think of Hal, Dad Jr., who was only about a million steps behind where Dad was at his age.

"Nothing good," Dad said, staring at the TV screen.

I looked at Hal only to find him looking at me as Dad's gaze stayed transfixed on the screen. Dad was not a man of few words. He spoke eloquently, piecing together a puzzle logically by starting at the corners and working his way in. His words had purpose and fluidity that coupled together seamlessly. For his chosen words to be so simple wasn't a good sign.

"You think there're really aliens in there?" I asked, looking at the craft and wondering what was inside the quiet ships. A part of me was eager yet scared to see the ships whirl to life and watch bright lights beam from the crafts.

Hal snorted, "Yeah, it's your biological family coming to take you home freak."


	2. The Answer

Disclaimer: I do not own "Falling Skies" no matter how much I wish I did.

**Two: The Answer**

"I am not bound to please thee with my answer." - William Shakespeare

_Hal…_

"What's up man?" Eddie asked the moment I walked into the classroom, passing by our teach Mr. Bateman who looked less than thrilled to see me. I assumed he was still a little touchy over my comment in class last week or the week before, or maybe it was just his general sneer of displeasure at my attendance. If he wouldn't keep giving me detentions for ditching, I wouldn't keep coming.

"Nothing," I shrugged, trying to catch Rita's attention from her chair two tables in front of me.

"Hi," She said coolly as if we had never met before. The girl practically jumped on me for the last three weeks, so I finally go out with the headcase only to have her freak after the lights flicker. Where was the justice in the world?

"_Hi_?" Eddie repeated with his jaw slightly dropped open and whispering to me as Mr. Bateman started gabbing about pre-SATs and how they were the pinnacle of our junior year of high school. "What the hell happened this weekend man? I thought you were going to…_seal_ _the_ _deal_?"

I rolled my eyes and slouched in my chair, scratching doodles on my paper, "Barely even had her set up when the damn lights went out."

"Ah sh—" Eddie stopped short and leaned away from me across our shared table as Mr. Bateman gave us both a look.

"So I think," I whisper, hiding my face behind my hand as nonchalantly as possible. "I can use this to my advantage. She's scared and everything, but the girl screams because she thinks our house is haunted…"

"…Doesn't she know this is suburbia not damn Salem or something…"

"…and Ben comes falling down the stairs, and she gets all flustered and runs out of the house..."

"Seriously?"

"It gets better," I smirked in dismay, and Eddie looks at me wide-eyed. "Ben and I see the UFOs on the news and decide to go up the hill to see for ourselves, and Mom and Dad catch us. Mattie gets a first class tuck into bed for leaving a mess in the kitchen while I get grounded for as long as the aliens are here—oh Ben too…and the banshee left her bra on our living room floor that my dad found…"

"Bra…nice!" Eddie smiles and nods his approval.

"That's all you heard in the last a minute isn't it?"

"Yada yada UFOS, grounded BS…what happened to the bra?" He nudged me and grins like a Cheshire cat again.

I snorted and laughed, "Dad shoved it into my lacrosse bag and told me to _return_ it."

"You're not really going to?"

"Nah, I ditched it in a dumpster behind St. Paul's on the walk to school."

"St. Paul's?" Eddie laughed. "Man you're going to get some nun expelled...but why were you walking?"

"It's episcopal…" I shook my head, and he stared at me like I had grown three heads. "Anyways, part of my punishment is no car in addition to no cell phone or hanging out..."

I smiled happily as I thought of Ben who had been banned from his precious video games and comic books. The kid had looked like someone kicked his puppy. He was more miserable than me probably. At least, he had been on the weekend. Besides, without his comic books what was he going to do at lunch? He didn't have any friends unless you counted those weird kids that he went to the arcade with; I didn't.

"Tough breaks man," Eddie sighed.

"Mason, Stiegel—this is the last time. Either close your mouths or get out!" Mr. Bateman bellowed as the entire class turned to us.

Eddie and I shared a look, considering the ramifications of walking out of class. We had done it before, and I still had the ringing of Mom's yells in my ears to prove it. The thought of Dad's two-hour lecture on responsibility only assured me that walking out of class was not going to be the better of the two options. Rolling my eyes, I turned back to my doodles as Eddie picked at the scotch tape on his desktop. Mr. Bateman seemed satisfied enough that we had stopped talking, not caring if we shriveled up and died in our back row seats so long as we didn't interrupt him.

My doodles had morphed into a scene. Little squatty buildings were in a line across the page with leaner buildings filled with windows breaking the monotony. I had done this skyline before, but this time there was a difference. Space ships dotted the sky—bulbous, threatening, and just as quiet on my sheet of notebook paper as they were in real life. Three days after entering Earth's atmosphere and they were still clammed up. What was crazy was the reaction of people.

Everything you found on TV, radio, or the internet was concerned with the aliens' arrival. The president made an address twice a day now with updates, and the only thing broadcasted on any station, from kids' networks to the main networks, was news bulletins. The whole family had gone to the grocery store after church on Sunday only to find the place picked over. Not to mention, neighbors were packing their cars and heading for the hills.

Even now, out of my class of twenty-six, fifteen of us were present, and two of my morning classes had converged in the auditorium for movies because our teachers had been no-shows. To be honest, I wasn't sure if I was supposed to thank the aliens or not for that one. I wouldn't thank them for making Mom hysterical, more than general that is, as she seemed on edge with Dad trying in vain to assure her that everything was okay. Even Dad was acting peculiar, suddenly tinkering on the dirt bikes that Ben and I had used to run wild on back in middle school when we went camping as a family.

"Mason could you at least pretend to pay attention?" Mr. Bateman huffed, and I pulled my attention away from the doodle.

"Um…the answer's 1812," I guessed, trying to remember what time period we were in in American Studies.

If only I had thought to remember that Mr. Bateman was my English literature teacher, he wouldn't be fuming now with the class laughing raucously as I played off my answer with a half-hearted shrug.

"Get out of my class!" He ordered, pointing at the door where I was surprised to see Ben standing awkwardly with his backpack on his shoulder. I grabbed my backpack and threw a confused glance to Ben. "Seriously get out of my class…your mother is here to pick you up…._better late than never_." I heard him mutter the latter part under his breath as the door closed behind Ben and me.

"Don't ever come to my class again," I ordered, stalking by him towards the main offices.

"Trust me," Ben rolled his eyes, and I was tempted to slap the back of his head so that was his permanent expression. "It wasn't my idea. Miss Henagar sent me to get you while Mom signed us out."

"Yeah, why's she here?"

Ben shrugged, "I don't know. Matt's already with her."

"Great," I remarked. "Nothing like being signed out of school by your mommy."

"Whatever," The kid barreled passed me as he purposely hit me with his backpack. There was four feet of wide open hallway on either side of me, and the punk decides to run into me.

"Hurry, hurry, let's go," Mom said urgently, pushing us out of the main office that we were just beginning to enter.

Mom had Matt by the hand, and we followed in her wake as we practically jogged to keep up. Poor Matt was getting more exercise than he ever got in peewee lacrosse practice.

"Mommy what are we doing?" Matt asked as we got into the car that I was surprised to find she had parked in the fire lane without care.

"We're going to Grandpa and Grandma's," She informed us as she revved the engine to life. "We have to go home and pack a few things first though sweetie."

"Why?" Matt whined. Mom hesitated as we pulled into traffic, and I looked to her. She only gulped and glanced away as she tried to put on a false smile for Matt.

"You remember your Aunt Carol?" Of course, we remembered Mom's first cousin that had married the marine and was stationed in Hong Kong presently. She was the one who dressed Ben and me up as dolls when we were little, being only a few years older than me, and I still shuddered at the thought of myself wearing bows in my hair and one of her doll's dress. I was short for my age when I was four.

"Yeah, is she coming to visit?"

"No baby, um…Aunt Carol sent me an email this morning…_shit_!" Mom screamed as the SUV screeched to a halt at the stop sign.

"Mom, are you okay?" Ben asked before I could. I wondered if he could see the tears glazing over her eyes from his spot next to Matt in the back seat.

"I'm fine," She chirped, waving to the pedestrian who gave her a dirty look as he crossed the street. "Anyways, your Aunt Carol's email said something very…_very_ disconcerting…there's been power outages in many of the cities where the crafts are stationed over. It's not just power though. Everything has just stopped…"

"What do you mean everything?" I asked.

"Electricity went out, cars have stopped working, phones—landlines and cellphones aren't working," She exhaled loudly. "It's spreading."

"Spreading?"

"From the cities outwards," She nodded as we turned onto our street. "I tried emailing Aunt Carol back, but the email declined. I called your dad, and he says the university has cancelled classes…even the public schools were about to be closed down…"

"How far is this covering?" Ben asked, leaning forward as we pulled into the garage.

Mom parked the car as she turned in her seat with a grave face as she looked between Ben, Matt, and me, "The news said that they haven't been able to get in touch with any countries outside of North and South America for the last hour."

"What?" I asked dumbfounded.

"Is it gonna happen here?" Matt croaked, and I could see the budding tears of fear leak down his face one-by-one as he launched himself from his chair towards Mom.

"I don't know sweetie," She cooed, stroking his hair that blended seamlessly into hers. "Let's go inside and pack pumpkin okay." He nodded, and Mom gave Ben and me the worst poker face for cheerfulness I had ever seen.

"You think something's going to happen?" Ben asked after we had sat silently, still buckled in our seats for a good minute or two.

"Something already did," I spat. Had he not been paying attention?

"No, I mean…something really bad," I turned to face him, finding him staring at the radio that despite being on was nothing but a soft purr of static. I hadn't even realized it was on.

"Like?"

He shrugged, picking at the threading on my chair, "If these crafts can cause a worldwide blackout—wipe out our greatest weapon…our technology…what more could they do?"

What more could they do? I didn't respond to my kid brother's question. Instead, I left the question lingering in his mind and now mine as we packed our bags, emptying our pantry of canned goods and boxed food as well as filling jugs with water. Mom had us pack bags of clothes along with flashlights and candles. Matches were shoved in with toothpaste and floss, and medications were tossed into plastic bags without care or thought for what they were. We had everything from ibuprofen to bug spray.

What more could they do? Whatever they could do didn't happen in the hour that Mom had informed us we had before we left for Webster. It didn't happen as we pulled out of the drive either, and I was beginning to doubt anything was going to happen. This was all just a domestic issue most likely—some country's way of scaring the shit out of everyone else. It was elaborate and had done the trick. Hell, maybe it was even us; I didn't know. So what nothing worked? We'd go a few days without cell phones or cars. I was grounded from those anyways, and I smirked triumphantly out the window a ways down the road as the Boston skyline faded behind us.

"Did you see that!"

"Did you see that!"

Matt and Ben yelled suddenly, and I didn't have time to register their exclamations as the ground shook. The SUV rocked back and forth like a boat on the rapids for a moment when I saw the craft whirl passed us in a flash of blue light. Another craft flew by with such force that it rocked the car again, and the car sloshed around like dead weight just as every other car around us did on the packed highway that was bumper-to-bumper. The highway that should have been filled with running cars was now packed with heaps of worthless metal, and Mom anxiously kept trying to turn her cell phone on without avail.

Then it happened, the crafts dropped something—grey confetti far in the distance. The confetti floated to the ground where it promptly ignited the highway. Cars exploded, and people raced from their cars in panic, running back down the highway to Boston and scattering into the tree lines. Was this what had happened everywhere already? The crafts had woken up and reigned hell upon everyone, and I knew that was the truth as the confetti continued to fall, getting closer with each breath.

"Mom?" I gulped, unbuckling my seatbelt and getting out of the car. Matt and Ben were following my movement.

"It won't work…damn it…_damn_ _it_!" She cried, tossing the phone to the car floor as she scurried out of the car.

Boston or the woods were our only two choices. As we shuffled through the cars and ran into people, I knew which way Mom wanted to go, but it wasn't the best option. No doodle could do justice to the atrocities being committed over Boston. Thick black smoke rose so high now that the blue sky was blotted out, and the confetti continued falling in every direction I could see. Screams filled the air like a thunderous applause that was millions of people strong.

"W-we have to-to go to the woods," I said, wiping at the wetness on my face and trying not to associate my dad with the confetti that I knew but didn't want to admit were blue, effervescent bombs. It felt like a brick was dropped onto my chest.

Mom nodded her consent, wrenching Matt's arm from his socket, and the kid didn't seem to care. There was no whine in him for the first time in his life. There were only silent tears running down his face as his little chin wobbled in time to the explosions. He was too slow though as the confetti was falling fast, closing in around us, and I scooped him up as we hit the tree line. Throwing him over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes, I kept running and following Ben who was now in front of me.

"Where am I going? Where am I going?" Ben croaked like a repeated record, looking frantically backwards to Mom and me. His chest heaved up and down rapidly to his body shuddering.

"Just keep going straight sweetheart," Mom replied, and simply hearing her voice calmed Ben down. Matt settled his crying into my neck as well.

Somewhere in our run, Mom must have gathered herself, and I was thankful because I didn't know what to tell him. Mom was the one that was supposed to tell us what to do anyways. She was the one who ordered us to clean our bedrooms, leave the toilet seat down, and not to hit each other—at least not often. She was the one who washed the grass stains out of my jerseys and the Gatorade stains from Ben's. She was the one who kept us from murdering one another every other day.

We kept running, and the plod of my steps on the soft ground fell rhythmically after a while. It was more consistent than my heartbeat that remained rapidly flooring it as the bombs echoed in the distance. Yet, even that too drifted away like a bad dream. We still choked on smoke, but we had lost sight of crafts. We had even lost sight of the people that had flooded into the woods along with us. Not bothering to ask, I dropped Matt onto the ground presumptuously, and Ben and Mom stopped as well.

"You get heavy after a bit kid," I laughed, and the edges of Matt's mouth flicked up briefly, not daring to smile.

"We should stop for a minute," Mom agreed, coaxing Matt and Ben to sit down beside me. "We've been running for a long time."

Matt instantly leaned into Mom, and she tucked an arm around him. I was jealous that I couldn't do the same. She gave Ben and me a withering smile.

"What time is it?" I asked, looking at wrists for watches.

"Two-fifty," Matt replied promptly, being the only one wearing a watch. Had it been any other day I would have laughed that it was the digital watch Ben gave him for Christmas with anime characters embellishing the bright blue cuff.

"Two-fifty? No that can't be," Mom asked, leaning over to look at Matt's watch. "It stopped."

"Electricity, cars, watches—this is insane," I commented to the ground.

"How are we going to call dad to make sure he's okay?" Matt asked anxiously, craning his head to see Mom.

"As soon as we find a working phone, we'll call him. Don't worry sweetie," Mom smiled slightly.

We sat in silence then, listening to the wind and our own breathing. I thought about how glad I was that I hadn't skipped that day like I had briefly thought of on the way to school. I thought of being blown to pieces at lacrosse practice, and I vaguely wondered if Eddie had made it that far. Was he dead? My heart skipped a beat, and I felt the bile collect in my stomach as I thought of Dad again. Had he made it to the highway just an hour behind us like Mom had said?

He had to stay and help evacuate the campus, checking classrooms and locking rooms. I wasn't the type to pray, but I sent a silent prayer that he had made it to the highway and was not still in Boston. No, I amended. I hoped he had made it to a _safe_ part of the highway. I selfishly hoped he hadn't been anywhere near the explosions that were a million times more sickening in person than on any action movie.

I pressed my hands to my temples to not think of the people that fell dead in our wake, and I wondered if we were the only ones left alive. Was everyone in the world dead? Was this the apocalypse? I didn't understand. All I wanted was to understand, but of course, a person should always be careful for what they wish for.

We got up then, walking straightforward for a few minutes until we spilled out into the road. We hesitated, looking both ways. We had walked in a circle; I noticed instantly, recognizing the blue convertible that had been car lengths in front of us. I had spent the last ten minutes staring at the car menacingly, daring it to move along with all the others. Mom covered Matt's eyes as we walked down the tree line towards Mom's car, shielding him from the fires, dead people, and charred cars.

Devastation was the only word I could think to summarize the highway, and seeing everything so quiet, I was confused as to whether it was a good thing or not. There were no crafts dropping bombs, and hesitatingly, Mom placed Matt's hand in mine as the car came into sight. She looked both ways like crossing the street.

"I'm going to get the phone just in case and some water," Mom said, facing Ben and me with a stern expression. "We'll wait out in the woods a bit till we figure out how to get Daddy. Okay?" She smiled at Matt and kissed his head.

"Kay," He nodded, and I could feel his clammy hand squirm in mine.

"You want me to go with you?" Ben asked, biting his lip and eyeing the road warily.

"It's fifty feet," Mom scoffed, kissing his cheek before lightly pushing his back and mine until we were another few feet into the woods. Our car was only seen through the curtain of leaves and bramble, and the three of us hunched down as we watched her carefully walk away, slipping through passed cars.

Everything seemed fine, but then Ben jumped.

"There's something down there!" Ben said, pointing to the right and craning his head around the bush.

Matt and I followed suit. There was a scuttle sound approaching like crabs on a plank of wood, but this scuttle was getting louder—closer. Something was coming, emerging out of the gray gaze. I looked to Mom, and she was searching the bottom of the car floor for the phone she had dropped. She needed to move. Whatever it was she was right in its path, but before I could think to scream, I saw it. I saw them.

Spiderlike monsters were crawling down the highway as they crushed cars like they were pebbles. There were at least a hundred, and they were brown, sickeningly brown. I watched one walk right over the blue convertible, stopping only to pull someone who had been crouching inside out. The man screamed at the top of his lungs before the spider claimed the man's throat. It only took a second, and the man fell limp and lifelessly into his car.

"Boys!" Mom shouted as she emerged from the car. "Boys!"

"No, no, no, no, no," I whispered and shoved Matt into Ben's lap as I went to grab her from the road, but it was too late.

I couldn't help but watch, paying more attention in this brief moment than I had in my entire life as the spiders heard her scream and saw her appearance in the road. Life was suspended in that moment as Mom looked at me for just a moment before the spiders overwhelmed her. It was then that I knew the answer to Ben's question. What more could they do? They could drop bombs like confetti. They could kill people by the masses and devastate highways and cites. They could send us fleeing into the woods for hours only to come back to where it all began.

And with one twist of their slender, threatening hands, they could snap a woman's neck without hesitation.


	3. The Cornerstone

Disclaimer: I do not own "Falling Skies" no matter how much I wish I did

**Three: The Cornerstone**

"Our dead are never dead to us, until we have forgotten them." - George Eliot

_Matt…_

When my rabbit Peter died, I asked my dad why bad things happened. He said sometimes they happened for a reason. So, I asked him what was the reason behind Peter dying, and he said bad things happened so that we appreciated the good. So, I told him I did appreciate the good, and he told me living things always died eventually. I told him that's not what he just told me, and he said I was right and that I should sleep tight because Peter was in a better place.

I fell asleep that night trying to understand what reason was behind Peter's death. Maybe, it was because he was old. He was gray-whiskered like old people, and all he did was sleep like Great Uncle Owen the one and only time we visited him at the nursing home. Uncle Owen was old, and he died.

Then, I thought about why Peter dying was a bad thing if living things always died. What good thing had I failed to appreciate? Perhaps, it was my green beans or my broccoli. I never appreciated those, but I did eat them anyways because Mom would skin me otherwise. I didn't appreciate Sophie Maier that day at school because she picked her nose and wiped her boogie on my desk. I didn't appreciate Kyle either because he saw the boogie and called me a "boogie picker" for the rest of the day because he thought it was mine.

In the end, I decided that Peter died because he was old because that's what happened when living things were old; they died so that we could learn to appreciate all the good we had. It made sense when I was six. It kind of still does now that I'm eight too because after Peter died I was nicer to Sophie, always trying to remember that she let me borrow her crayons when I forgot them that one day and appreciating every day she didn't wipe boogies on my desk.

I appreciated Kyle more too even though that was harder because he still called me names. I appreciated him because when Hal or Ben called me a cry baby or when they got the grocery buggy at the store with the baby seat in it and told me to jump in while they laughed, it didn't sting so much.

However, when Mom died, I didn't know what good thing I hadn't appreciated. I tried to think and remember and understand. A part of me wished that if I could discover what I hadn't appreciated enough and appreciate it a lot times ten, she could live again. She wasn't old not like Peter anyways. She didn't have gray whiskers. If she wasn't old and if I had appreciated all the good things I had, then she must have not died for a reason.

She just died.

"Why'd Mommy die?" I asked, kicking more dirt with my shoe.

Hal and Ben both looked at me like Mrs. Ellison when it was reading time and I wasn't supposed to talk. They looked at each other as they used the fenders they pulled off the cars in the highway to dig the hole. It was almost dark, and Mom's body lay beside the tree. Ben had closed her eyes, and she looked like she was sleeping with her legs lain together and her hands clasped on her stomach.

"I don't know buddy," Hal replied, nearly breaking the fender and cussing as he jammed it into the dirt. Ben ignored me, scooping the dirt up like it was a race, sweating more than I had ever seen him sweat before.

We were all quiet then, and I wondered if they were thinking about her dying too. All I could think of was Hal's whisper of "no" as he tossed me to Ben who cradled me to him like a baby, pressing my face into his shoulder. I didn't even know what was happening until it was too late to look.

One of the spiders killed her before they all continued scurrying down the highway. Hal waited till they passed before darting to Mom, lying low in the highway. Ben followed suit, tugging me in tow. I only thought she was hurt as Hal crouched down beside her, putting two fingers on her wrist, then her other wrist, and finally her neck. He cried out for Ben to check too in case he was wrong, and Ben only stared at her as Hal leaned against our car and started crying. Ben began crying too.

My big brothers were sobbing, and I was scared because I had never seen them cry before. So, I pushed Ben towards Mom, telling him to check like Hal had told him. He did reluctantly, laying his hand near her mouth before closing her eyes gently. That's when I began crying too, sitting on the asphalt and staring at Mom's shoes. They were splayed to the side uncomfortably in a way she would never put them purposely.

I thought I was going to die too as I choked on my tears and wiped away my snot with my jacket. Hal nor Ben nor I died—just Mom.

"She doesn't have a box," I stated numbly, staring at her shoes. They would get dirty in the ground.

"It's a casket," Ben replied without facing me.

"I know that!"

"Yeah right…"

"Well, she should have one. Everyone on TV does."

"Well, this isn't TV Matt!" Ben yelled.

I sucked up the snot in my nose, remaining quiet and blinking against the growing darkness.

"Dad should be here. He needs to know Mom died," I said to neither of them in particular, trying in vain to get her cell phone to work.

"He can't be here," Hal said angrily, and I could sense he was about to yell at me like Ben had.

"Well, he needs to be here!" I yelled to head him off.

"He can't be here!" Hal threw the fender to the ground, and Ben beat at the ground ferociously.

"He has to be!"

"Matt he can't!"

"Why not!"

"Because he's probably dead too!"

I didn't respond. Hal picked back up the fender and kept digging. I threw the cell phone in my hand, chunking it into the trees as far as I could. Then, I threw a rock, a stick, and another rock. I was mad, and I didn't have a fender so I had to make do. I just sat looking at Mom, willing her to wake up.

Hal and Ben stopped digging, and I got up, looking at the hole. None of us bothered questioning its size. It was small but big enough for Mom. She was shorter than Hal even and thinner too. My heart started beating fast as we all looked down the hole.

"We're gonna put her in the hole?" I cried, shaking my head. "I don't want to put her in there. C-can't we just wait until things start working again, so-so she'll have a casket, and Dad can be here…"

Ben put a hand on my shoulder as I started crying, pulling me away from the edge as Hal placed Mom into the hole. Her arms and legs fell limply to the side. Hal didn't even look at her as he straightened her body in the hole. Ben's fingers clenched on my shoulder, and I could feel the bruise forming.

"What do we do?" Ben sniffed.

"Um—they usually say things about people…" Hal's voice shook like mine. "Do you guys have anything to say?"

Hal looked at us hopefully. Neither Ben nor I said anything. All I focused upon was her hands since her eyes were blocked by the jacket. Her nails were pink, and her wedding ring was twisted funny. She had a scar on her thumb from a few months ago when she cut it while cooking. Dad had stopped it from gushing, and I remembered her cussing, laughing, and telling me not listen or repeat what she was saying.

Hal cleared his throat, "Mom, y-you're awesome…" He was crying now, sobbing like Ben and me. "We um…we don't really know what to do without you. You've always kept us together. We-we just love you and wish you were here with us…Ben?"

Ben stared at Hal before looking back at Mom, "You deserve a proper burial Mom. We…we don't have a casket for you or a headstone or anything…we're sorry. We miss you already so much. I'm sorry Mom. I'm sorry Mom. I-I love you…I'm so, so sorry…" Ben fell to his knees, and Hal looked into the trees, swallowing hard.

"Matt?"

It was my turn. I hated it when it was my turn at school. I never knew what to say, and I ended up saying stupid things and getting laughed at. I hated going last too—Hal, Ben, then Matt. I was always last when asked about my day at the dinner table by Dad and Mom, and by the time they got to me, everything good had been said. That's why I whined a lot. Mom and Dad listened, and I got back at Hal and Ben in the process. Dad would say I killed two birds with one stone.

"Matt?" Hal asked again, and I noticed Ben was standing again. "Don't you have anything to say?"

I shook my head.

"Are you sure?"

I shook my head again.

"Matt just say something _please_," Ben begged. Looking at their desperate faces like Mom's when I was throwing up in the toilet and no matter what she did she couldn't make me well again, I gave in.

"Fine," I grumbled, kicking at the dirt with my shoe and feeling bad as the dirt fell into the hole onto Mom's hand. Dirt sprinkled over her pink nail polish and wedding ring.

"So?" Ben coaxed.

I shook my head, "I can't see her face."

"You're not supposed to buddy," Hal said crouching down beside me, and I flinched. He only ever called me buddy when he was trying to play nice when he was grounded and trying to get ungrounded sooner.

"I want to see her face."

"Matt, I don't think…"

"I want to see it!" I said adamantly, leaning down and stretching my arm as I pulled the jacket back.

My brothers shuddered as her face was revealed. It had only been a few hours maybe, but it already seemed like forever had passed. This face wasn't hers. This person was dead and still—lifeless. Mom wasn't lifeless. She was funny and nice. She made me eat my vegetables and tucked me in to bed still even though Hal and Ben said I was too big for bedtime stories. She even said that they were really just jealous and that they really wanted to be tucked in and read bedtime stories.

I put the jacket back over the woman's face that was dead. My mom may be dead now, but she wasn't lifeless. She was amazing, and I turned my focus to her pink nail polish and wedding ring, imagining her face in my head. She was smiling and standing next to Dad. Dad was making her laugh, telling her a joke as he bandaged her finger. It wasn't funny, but she laughed anyways.

"I love you Mommy."

That was all I said. I waited for her to say it back like always, but it never came. Instead, Hal stood up. Then, they began to drop the dirt in onto her gently, using their hands and the fenders. They packed the dirt onto her until even my shoes were being buried. Ben had to pull me back before they buried me too.

"She's not in a casket like on TV, but can she have a cornerstone?" I asked cautiously. They were illuminated in the moonlight like the shelves in my room when my curtains were left open before I went to bed.

"It's a headstone," Ben corrected me. "But yeah, she can."

"Yeah," Hal nodded in agreement. "Let's find one. You stay there and mark the spot."

I did as I was told, hearing their feet scuffle through the forest. Their words to each other were like whispers by the time they reached my ears. Eventually, they came back. Each of them carried a stone in their hands.

"Which one?" Hal asked, and they each held out their stones for me to see.

They looked the same to me. Hal's was a little thinner, and Ben's had a funny crook in it. I tried to decide which one Mom would like more, but I had never understood girls.

"We can vote," I replied, and I could hear Dad tell me that I was being very diplomatic.

"Matt, you are the deciding factor," Hal said.

"_Oh_, well, I choose both. Mom would too…I think."

Ben shrugged, and they both placed their stones over her grave.

"I want to put one too!" I said suddenly and darted into the woods before they could stop me.

I picked out the first one I saw before they could start fussing at me for running away into the dark. It was thin with a funny dent, and I rushed back, placing it next to theirs. Mom had three headstones, but I think she deserved a thousand of them because she was so great. She even deserved an infinite amount of them.

"What do we do now?" I asked.

"We're going to find Dad," Hal said, and Ben and I looked up at him.

There was a silence as we looked back at Mom's headstone. None of us were crying now. We simply stood shoulder-to-shoulder looking down, thinking our own thoughts. Ben let out a small snort of amusement that turned into tears leaking down his face.

"It's funny but…it kind of does look like a cornerstone," He said.

I looked at Mom's headstone. It did look like the corner of a puzzle, and I wondered if we gathered all the other stones it would complete a picture. However, we didn't need more stones. Even if she deserved them all, Mom would have said to leave them be. Let someone else have them because she didn't need them. Her headstone was a cornerstone, and that was enough. I think.


	4. Survival after Death

Disclaimer: I do not own "Falling Skies."

**Four: Survival after Death**

_Ben…_

A part of me thought that when I opened my eyes, the cornerstone, rather Mom's gravestone, would be gone. The upturned earth that Hal and I had packed over her body would be as it had been before, mixed in with the leaves and peppered by twigs. I even imagined that I would awake to find her not dead at all, smelling the scent of blueberry syrup and pancakes waft up the stairs as I stumbled out of bed. Hal would still be sleeping and snoring louder than any human should be allowed in his bed parallel to mine.

None of that happened. Instead, I awoke to see Hal wide awake and leaning against a tree. Matt lay between us with his head resting on the ground where it had fallen off of Hal's lap, and his fingers were still entwined with mine just as they had been last night after he cried himself to sleep. The sun had set by the time we buried Mom, and we had no idea what was happening in the world. Everything could have been repaired and been resolved over night as we slowly fell asleep on the grass.

Yet, I knew that hadn't happened as I look at Hal. His expression was grave, not filled with grief over Mom but with anger over something else. He looked like he was about to explode.

"What is it?"

He shrugged, peeling apart blades of grass like string cheese, "Took a walk up to the highway before you two woke up. Half the skyline's obliterated, and the smoke just keeps rising in all directions. I even tried to get the car to start. Hell I tried to get _every_ car to start!" I sat up, catching sight of the bags in the grass poised like sitting ducks in a pond.

"Where are we going?"

"Home…find Dad…"

"What if?"

"We're going home to find Dad!" Hal's voice boomed, and even Matt stirred, groggily wiping his face as he awoke.

"What about Mom!" Matt cried immediately as he came to. "We can't leave her alone!"

"We'll come back. We'll give her a proper burial," Hal informed us, pulling his backpack on and tossing ours to us without meeting our eyes. "I separated the water and food amongst us, and the drugs I randomly just put in bags…"

"But I don't want to go!" Matt hollered, standing to his feet and chunking his backpack at the ground and turning to me. "Ben…Ben, _you_ tell him we're not going! It's only fair to vote!" He demanded.

I didn't know which one of my brothers would kick me harder for not siding with him. Hal was bigger and wore his tennis shoes, but when he was tired, that was usually when I could take him best. Right now, the bags under his eyes were ten times more prominent than mine were I knew. On the other hand, Matt was little and filled with fury. His bony appendages were as sharp as knives, and his feet were like lead whenever he kicked me to get off the couch because it was "his."

It was a choice; I realized—Mom or Dad. Whatever had happened in the last twenty four hours had changed the game. They had obliterated half the board, leaving us with nothing but our own two feet and a mind that governed which way to make them walk. Sniffling oddly, I looked at Mom's grave briefly, wondering if we were going to have to dig another hole. I didn't want to—not at all, but there was only one way to know for sure. I averted my eyes from Matt as I pulled my bag onto my back.

"We need to get started as early as possible," I said, ignoring that I was siding with Hal. Besides, I couldn't help that my choice aligned with his. "It's quite a few miles back to Somerville."

"I'm still not going. Leave me here," Matt said, plopping himself back down on the ground. I expected Hal to grab him and carry him if he had to. Hal simply shrugged and walked off with me following.

"Stay then," Hal called over his shoulder. "We'll tell Dad you said hi."

One.

Two.

Three silent seconds passed.

"Are you really going to find him!" Matt shouted at our backs as we broke through the brush, leading up to the highway.

"Yep, but you have fun with the spiders, and try to make a fire if you get cold tonight!" Hal hollered back to him, and I glanced between him and Matt who stood anxiously in our wake. Hal's little plan had better work because Mom and Dad, only Dad now I supposed, would kill us if we left Matt.

"_Fine_," Matt grumbled, begrudgingly grabbing his backpack and jogging to catch up. "I'll go on one condition."

"Name it," Hal nodded his agreement.

"You said he's probably dead too, but…promise we'll find Dad…_alive_," I watched his lips pout out on the last word, and Hal bent down to his level, sticking out his pinky finger that Matt smiled grimly at before shaking with his own little finger. I cringed at the weak smile he gave Matt, reminding me of Mom.

"Promise," Hal agreed.

For a second, I almost believed Hal too. It would be so much easier to be Matt, to be young and naïve, to believe that simply because Hal had promised we would find Dad alive that it would be so. However, it didn't work like that. Things didn't happen because someone willed them to. They just happened like the bombs being strewn across the highway and Boston—the world too—by the spiders. The spiders made a decision just as I had decided to pull my backpack on in order to find Dad.

A part of me wanted to punch Hal for giving the kid false hope and almost pulling the wool over my eyes too, but a part of me wanted to thank him. We had already abandoned Matt once this week. That night we had had the reassurance of the security of our neighborhood and our parents' imminent arrival to prevent anything from happening, but today we had no such assurance. Anything could have happened had we actually left Matt behind. Most likely we would had have returned to find his body shriveled in a cold ball over Mom's grave.

Cautiously, we set forth, walking the length of the highway and never leaving the comfort afforded to us by the trees. Every step seemed longer than the next.

We passed by the abandoned cars on the road like walking through a graveyard. The fires were extinguished, but the devastation was a millions times worse in slow motion than in the chaotic moments in which we fled to woods. More cars were charred than weren't, and the dead lay limply on the ground and cars. They were packed together—men, women, and children. Everyone had been trying to get out of town, but glancing in the direction leading out of town, I knew small cities and towns had not fared any better.

It was like Mom said. It spread outward from the city, and the closer we came to Boston, the more my muscles tensed. The skyline smoked like a furnace, and the tallest of the buildings had crumbled. What had once been short buildings, dwarfed in comparison, were now spires. However, no matter how tall our buildings were, the spiders' crafts flew higher above us than we could imagine.

"What is that?" Hal asked.

"It's an airplane," I replied, seeing the white plane that had nosedived into the woods on the other side of the highway.

"Good god," Hal murmured.

"Yeah," I nodded.

If the cars represented gravestones of the masses then the white plane was like the marble mausoleums in the middle of old cemeteries. It was one of those things that always seemed scary in vampire movies, but there was nothing scary about the plane. It was just unfathomable, and it made me sick to think of the people plummeting to their deaths just as much as I thought of the people being incinerated in their cars or having their necks snapped like Mom. I swallowed the vomit that came into my mouth.

"I'm hungry." Matt whined after a while.

"You just ate chips and a granola bar," I reminded him.

"Yeah, but still…" He sighed. "How much farther is it?"

"Miles, lots of miles."

"Well, how much longer will it take?"

"We might not even get there today."

"What!" He shrieked, and the piercing shrill tone of his voice cut through my ears like glass. "But it didn't take us a day to get here!"

"We were also taking a car buddy," Hal replied suddenly, bending down. "Here, hop on." Matt did, and I rolled my eyes, trekking ahead of them.

Matt was always whining, and Hal was cocky, always trying to outdo me. Nothing would ever change. Bombs dropped from the sky, and Mom had died. Yet, nothing was ever going to change. Hal, Matt, and I were always going to be the same like trying to reconcile putting three male beta fish in the same fish bowl. It would work for half a second like when Dad and Mom had just pried us off of each other, but as soon as we swam around and saw the other one, we knew only one would survive. It was funny because I couldn't remember a time when it wasn't me against Hal or Matt or even them against each other.

I was sick of this—flat out sick of all of it, and I debated storming off alone. I could do this by myself. I could figure out this new reality. It was just like starting a new video game. I never bothered reading the instructions, simply sticking in the CD and hoping for the best. It wasn't that different. I had an objective which was to retrieve Dad. There was an opposing force too in the alien spiders and their ships dropping bombs. The only matter was to weigh my strengths and weaknesses and form a plan.

The trouble was that one of my weaknesses was being afraid of going alone, so I stayed, pressing on as the night drew near.

"I don't want to sleep here," Sometimes, I think I could put a timer on Matt's whines. I could press a button and cue the whine on command.

"It has a bed, and it has a bathroom buddy," Hal reasoned. He was leaning down again, acting like he was Dad or something. He could almost pull it off if he was about twenty years older. He took after Dad the most.

"But what if there are dead people in it?"

I cussed under my breath. When I had suggested sleeping in the RV that had run off the road, I hadn't thought of people being dead inside. Looking at the RV, it seemed fine. There were no signs of fire or spiders walking over it. Only the door had been opened which I presumed meant the occupants had fled like us.

"There aren't dead people," I said in exasperation and hoping that there was nothing more than a spider—the Earth ones—running about inside as I stepped aboard. It was nice and empty, sighing with relief as I checked the bathroom and bedroom. "All clear!"

They stepped aboard tentatively, and I couldn't blame them. It was like walking into a stranger's house. It was wrong. This was intruding, and it was against the law. We'd be considered criminals if we had done this forty eight hours ago, but a lot had changed. I didn't even know if there was a government to come and arrest us. I didn't think so; we had seen police cars and ambulances littering the highway with the other cars.

We walked around like we were touring a museum with Dad or walking through an antique shop with Mom. She said bulls weren't allowed in china shops so we kept our hands to ourselves even now. However, we were tired from walking all day, and we gave in. Matt conked out on the bed with his shoes still on and his bag still on his back, leaving Hal and me to sit. It was never good to leave us be for too long.

"You can take the couch. I'll bunk with Matt," Hal informed me suddenly, stretching his legs out on the leather seat of the dinette table.

"Don't tell me what to do," I groaned.

"Don't be a punk!"

"Well, don't be an ass!"

"Ooh, big man Ben whips out a swear word! Better wash your mouth out before Mom…"

We were both leaned forward from our seats, ready to pounce like always, but at the mention of Mom, he drew quiet with his eyes wide before he huffed into the bedroom. The door slammed behind him, and I hit my head on the window before stretching out on the couch. I might as well sleep on the ground again if I was going for comfort. I didn't want to sleep anyways if it was anything like the night before which entailed a nightmarish series of screams riddled with the soft pop of a breaking neck.

Throwing my bag on the floor, I picked up the remote control, pretending to flip channels. I decided the black screen was a ninja movie, and slowly but surely, I assembled a cast from the hunting magazine that I pulled from the counter in the kitchen. The men all smiled from the shiny pages as they showed off their dead deer and squirrels, looking over ads for gun training and licenses.

Daylight waned through the cracks of the blinds, and eventually even the moonlight was not enough to allow me to keep flipping through the endless stack of hunting magazines. So, I found myself staring into the dark and waiting for the ninjas to come and get me. They never came, but the blue light did. It ran through the blinds like headlights, and I clenched the couch out of fear. It was a craft, and I held my breath as I waited for the explosion.

It didn't come, and peeking through the blinds, I saw the craft whirl to a landing in the parking lot. Another craft landed and another. Dozens of spiders poured out, and neat lines of a dozen or more robots followed respectively behind each spider. Invasion—the word engraved itself into the forefront of my mind. The ground shook with the robots' collective thunderous steps, and Hal's snores ceased in the bedroom. They both came running in panic, and I clapped my hand over Matt's mouth before he could whine.

"Holy shit!" Hal whispered, breathing heavily next to my ear as Matt pried my hand from his mouth.

"Can't they just go away?" Matt shuddered. "What do they even want?"

Neither Hal nor I answered as our eyes were glued upon the scene unfolding before us. Hundreds of small groups of aliens were scattering in all directions. It was unbelievable, and I cringed uncomfortably as the small dot of a person was brought forward from hiding in the building that the parking lot wrapped around. The person screamed mercilessly as more people were pulled from the building. Twenty or maybe thirty people were lined up, shaking with terror as one of the robots turned. Its rounded arm rolled upwards, and the fire reigned down upon the people as the robots' aim moved down the line.

Matt screamed, and Hal and I both tackled him to the couch to get him to quiet.

"We need to go," I said.

"Go where?" Hal growled as he pulled on his shoes. Matt was crying, and I found myself shoving Matt's right shoe on as he tied his left with his fingers shaking.

"Um…I don't know," I hadn't thought that far. I looked around the dark RV, feeling the magazines under my fingertips as I tried to find my bag.

"We can't see out there," Hal shook his head, and we all sat in a row with our bags in our laps and our backs pressed against the cupboards. "Those things can see us or find us or something even in the dark. They can fucking smell us or something! We have to stay till morning."

"Morning!" I seethed. "We'll be dead by then! Damn it Hal!"

"What do you want us to walk out and get killed?"

"No… I—we need guns," I murmured.

"What?"

"We need guns!" I said, and I lost it, feeling around the RV in the dark for guns until I finally gave up. We had to get weapons. We had to bear arms now. "There're not any guns! They have thousands of hunting magazines but not one gun!"

"We'll find guns," Hal's whispered floated in the dark. I didn't have to see him to know he was staring straight ahead.

"We will?" Matt sniffled.

"Yeah, in the morning we'll find guns."

"But we don't know how to shoot them!"

"Ben and I do. Grandpa used to take us and Dad. You were just a baby."

It was decided just like that as we sat helplessly waiting for the spiders and robots to find us. We may be waiting for them to kill us in the night, but in the morning, things were going to change. We had been so very lucky all day, never running into anything as we walked casually through the woods. It had felt more like a long walk home from school than a stroll back to Somerville after an alien invasion.

Cocky, weak, and whiny—I thought those things wouldn't change about us. Maybe, they still wouldn't, but we were still standing tonight which was more than the people in the parking lot could say. We would adapt. We would figure this out somehow because this was only just the beginning. If I were to live a hundred more years, I knew without doubt this was the moment I would look back on as the moment it all began.

I didn't know what was going to happen, but it was coming at us full speed ahead that much I did know. Hearing the distant scuttle of the spiders and swivel of the robots' firing arms, my resolve was solidified. I was going to survive, and I made that my decision. I was going to survive. For Mom if she could hear me in death, I added Matt and Hal into my decision as well. We were going to survive no matter what.

Get guns. Find Dad. Survive. It wasn't a very detailed strategy, but it would have to be enough. Morning couldn't come soon or late enough.


	5. Fathers and Sons

Disclaimer: I do not own "Falling Skies."

**Five: Fathers and Sons**

_Hal…_

My dad's dad was in the Marines, retired out as a colonel. Despite times spent together on holidays or an awkward vacation, that's all I've ever really known about him. Dad and Grandpa never spoke other than a nod of greeting here and a criticism there. Mostly, Mom just reminded Dad to call on Grandpa's birthday, and Nana always shook and tutted her head about Grandpa and Dad not being close. I never really thought of it as a big deal. It didn't matter; I'm sure my grandparents were dead now, living just outside D.C. I can guarantee without even knowing for sure that the capital was wiped out in the invasion.

As I pulled the gun out of the marine's cold hands, I wondered about his son somewhere. The marine wasn't much older than me, and he was lucky he hadn't been disfigured or burned to death like most of his platoon. I felt bad as I took his gun, staring at the picture just peeking out of his coat where his free hand had lain. The man had been reaching for the picture of his son, a blonde little boy with green eyes just like him, as he died. Had Grandpa reached for Dad's picture? Perhaps, he had reached for the phone.

I would never know that answer, and I pulled the picture from the man's coat, tucking it into his still hand and closing his eyes. Not having the heart to take anything more from the man, I pulled more guns and ammo off the other men, trying to choose men without faces so that I didn't feel guilty robbing the dead.

"Are you done yet?" Matt asked with a sense of urgency from where he crouched by an overturned Humvee.

"You ready?" I asked Ben, turning to face him for the first time.

We had shot guns before—handguns at a range when we were kids. It was always Nana and Mom's way to try and get Dad and Grandpa to bond to no avail of course. Ben and I would end up practicing with the day ending in a shouting match about something I didn't understand because they would always stop shouting when Ben and I tuned in. On those days, it had been perfectly normal to see a much younger Ben hold a gun, but this was surreal.

My dorky kid brother had an assault rifle slung over his shoulder, a utility knife strapped to his leg, and even a few pistols peeking out from his jacket. He was prepared, looking like the soldiers in the combat video games—the only type of video game we would ever play together. He even had ammo, and I suddenly had an urge to kill. I wanted these spiders dead, nothing but squashed guts on the bottom of my shoe. This was not how things were supposed to be. Ben should be solving arithmetic problems at his mathlete competition not packing and ready for war.

"Yeah, I'm ready," He replied, shaking his head and bending to tie his boot. He'd been quiet today, heeding my instruction without question to take boots off a dead soldier like I did. Our tennis shoes had barely held up after walking from the day before and earlier in the morning.

"Is it going to be like this everywhere?" Matt asked suddenly as we delved just into the tree line again.

"Like what?" I asked.

"Dead people everywhere," He said.

"Probably buddy," I replied. How many people had he seen and how many more would he see?

"You think everyone is dead?"

"Not everyone but if this is what happened everywhere then I would say most people are dead."

"Thousands of them?"

"…More like millions," I didn't meet his eyes.

Ben scoffed, "Millions? Try billions! Geez you two are stupid." He muttered. I supposed his silence was too good to be true.

"Why don't you just keep your mouth to yourself?" I growled.

"Don't tell me what to do! Mom's dead for a half a second and what…all of sudden you're Dad?" He stood toe-to-toe with me just like so many times before, but this time there was no one to pull us apart save Matt. "Get over yourself!"

"You ungrateful little wimp!" I shouted ready to clobber him. "If it wasn't for me…"

"What?" He spat. "I wouldn't have shelter or protection…who's the one that came up with the RV and guns smart-ass?"

"Oh that's how you want to be! If that's how you feel then leave your bag big boy and get to taking care of yourself alone!" I shooed him away with my hand.

"Maybe I will!"

"Maybe you should!"

"You would love that! Wouldn't you?"

"You're such a prick!"

"You're such a…"

"_Stop_! Just shut up!" Matt shouted, and for a second, I was confused, trying to understand why Ben would be backing down and sounding like Matt all at the same time. Matt never interjected in our fights, usually he just ran to tattle to Mom. "Please just stop."

Something in the way Matt sounded made me pull back, and Ben did as well. Matt sounded young and pathetic, nearly hoarse from just that simple scream. He was starting to cry, and it wasn't his whiny cry—the one that always assured he got his way. It was his cry when he would run into Ben and my bedroom terrified of the monsters under his bed after we let him watch a scary movie that Mom and Dad weren't supposed to know about. Usually, he ended up in the bean bag chair, singing himself and us to sleep.

He was always gone in the morning though. Half way through the night, Ben and I would feign sleep as Dad came in, scooping up Matt and tucking him in bed without mention of it to us or even Mom that I knew of. It simply happened because that's what happened, and I felt bad because I couldn't make Dad appear. No matter how much I did I wasn't him, and I didn't want to be. I was just Hal—the stupid big brother that let him get scared to death after watching monster movies.

With each step forward, the route home became more and more familiar. It was war torn, but it was still identifiable. Having no choice but to walk in the streets, Ben and I found ourselves holding our guns high with Matt squeezed between us. It was an abandoned city—not by choice but all the same. A few times we saw the dart of people across the sidewalks or poking their noses out of the houses that still stood, but mostly, we walked forward unyielding. Our high school look like someone had just torched it, and I paused, thinking of Eddie. Maybe, it had been for the better.

"Dad!" Matt shouted as we were within sight of our house. "Dad!"

The house stood resolute and quiet as we unlocked the door with the spare key under the planter. We truly were _that_ family—Dad, Mom, three kids. All we were missing was a dog named Spike, and one of should have been a girl. I snickered as I thought it should be Ben. It would serve the punk right. He was always moody, so it fit his personality.

"He's not here!" Matt shrieked, running down the stairs as fast as he had run up them. "Dad!"

Silence answered, and Matt kept running, hollering more desperately each time before he stopped and stood before us panting. Ben walked slowly into the living room, collapsing onto the couch and not bothering to mind the stack of clean clothes Mom had lain out the morning before she was killed. We were supposed to put them away, and not one of us had. Ben closed his eyes, using the stacks of clothes like arm rests.

"Where-is- he?" Matt asked me in a rush, looking around like Dad was about to pop out of the closet.

"He's dead," Ben spoke calmly, not even bothering to open his eyes. I wanted nothing more than to punch him.

"What?" Matt's eyes were as big as saucers.

"He's probably just out looking for us," I replied, staring hard at Ben. His nose flinched a bit, so I knew he knew that I was pissed at him.

"_Really_?" He exhaled in relief.

"Yeah, why don't you go upstairs and lie down for a bit," I suggested, and he took off before I finished speaking, looking like I had given him his birthday present early. I watched him go up the stairs, and I envied him.

"Don't lie to him," Ben said suddenly, and I turned to find him staring at me deadpanned.

"We don't know that he's dead," I plopped onto the recliner, discarding my rifle next to his on the coffee table.

"He isn't here…that's enough of a clue."

"He's probably searching for us."

"You're delusional," Ben scoffed.

"Jackass," I mumbled, kicking my feet up with the footstool.

It felt weird to sit in silence with Ben. The only thing that had ever kept Ben and me alone in the living room together was the TV, and it wasn't on. There was no reason I had to stay, but I didn't want to leave the room. I couldn't. Ben and my bedroom would only allow me to fall asleep, and that only brought back the memory of that instance as the spiders descended upon her and my dry throat that didn't yell to warn her.

I didn't want to go upstairs either, passing their bedroom with their unmade bed and her evening gown from Friday night that still hung on the back of the door. She had spilled on it during the fundraiser, and Dad had forgotten to take it that morning to get it dry-cleaned. Other things had been on his mind; I understood.

Without care, I stood up, wandering to the garage that Dad had been tinkering in and working on the bikes for no good reason. Dad wasn't a hands-on kind of man, preferring to read and write than play the game. However, the garage was his sanctuary anyways. Mom said it stemmed from when he was even younger than Matt. He would wait for Grandpa to come home so that they could work on building the box car Grandpa had promised him.

The box car was never finished, but Dad spent months waiting anyways, doing his homework and reading his books in the garage as he waited. Dad was a military brat and only child, and with each move, he always gravitated to the garage after that, reading and writing. It was where he still wrote his lectures for his classes and where I remembered padding out to in just my socks and boxers to give him a hug goodnight when I was younger.

Both vehicles were gone, but mine sat lonely and ugly. It was nothing more than a heap of trash, but it was mine. I grinned to just think about what Rita and I had done in the car. That particular night had been a bust, and I wanted to knock myself upside the head. She was dead probably, and I was thinking about her in the biblical sense. Mom would roll over in her grave if she knew, and I doubled over and heaved, thinking about burying Mom in the ground.

The tears came then—the first ones since that day. I had pretended not to notice Matt's sniffling when he walked, letting him ask whatever questions I didn't know the answers to if that should help him. I had pretended not to notice how Ben blinked rapidly in succession randomly as he stormed off ahead of us. I also pretended that I hadn't been holding it back, pretending that she wasn't even dead and pretending that once we got home everything would miraculously be back to the way it was a few days ago. Dad would be here—alive and well, and Mom would be telling him that he forgot to drop her dress off at the cleaners. I knew I would give anything, say anything, and do anything to make that moment happen.

Not knowing what to do, I sat in Dad's chair that was set beside the bikes. They were as old as me and worn. They were two heaps of junk Grandpa had bestowed upon us as a piece offering to my Dad, being two bikes they had never finished years before. The paint was chipped, and the overall façade was terrible. Yet, the engines were in decent condition thanks to Dad's sudden interest.

Running my hand along the handlebars, I wondered if he had anticipated something extreme happening. Whenever everyone else had raided the supermarkets and drugstores, Dad had sat diligently in the garage, working on the bikes. However, it was fruitless in the end, because they wouldn't run. Everything had stopped working, and everything was still broken as far as I was aware. Exhausted, I rested my forehead on my arms as I leaned against the bike.

I was nearly asleep when the bike shook suddenly. I was getting tired, and my mind was playing tricks on me. Once again, the bike shook. It shook again, and before the shaking happened another time I was flying to the living room, peeking through the curtains like an idiot and gasping when I saw the robot. It was even larger up close than it had been from a distance.

"It must have seen us," Ben gulped, breathing like he had just run a marathon.

The robot wasn't alone as it had two of its buddies with him, and a spider was there too. They were approaching our house, strutting up the sidewalk.

"Fuck!"

I gasped, remembering that Matt was still upstairs and knowing full well that the aliens had no intention of knocking on the door. The second the thought crossed my mind, I heard a swivel noise, and then our house was being shot to hell. The window in the dining room was crashed open as the spider skittered inside. My pulse raced as I looked around wildly. I didn't know what to do, but I knew we needed to get Matt.

"Get upstairs! Go!" I pushed Ben before me as we tripped over our feet from our position by the window, scooping up our rifles in the process.

"Matt!" Ben called. "Matt!" I raced to his bedroom, but I was stopped up short when he flew out of our parents' room.

"Let's go!" I wrenched him forward with his arm and headed towards the stairs.

"What's happening? What's happening?" Matt cried anxiously.

I never answered him because as we turned to fly down the stairs it was there. The brown spider stared at us as it was poised in wait, filling up the entire stairway. I shoved Matt behind me, hearing his wince as I aimed and hearing Ben's nervous scramble to grab hold of his gun properly. We were too slow, and the alien leapt forward towards us, grabbing at Ben. I expected him to scream from pain, but only a soft wheeze fell from his lungs as the spider strangled him with one of his long legs.

Ben dropped to the ground, barely conscious as he tried desperately to catch his breath, crouching on all fours. The spider left him, advancing towards Matt and me, and not knowing what else to do, I tried again. The spider had a hold of me before I could blink, but I still felt the pull of the trigger underneath my finger as the gun's power surged forward. The spider squealed shrilly, and hesitated for just a moment before launching its two arms at me without reserve.

I didn't understand why the alien spider had arms or tusk-like protrusions on its face or why its eyes were so black. I didn't understand anything about the creature as I only paid attention to the way it crushed my arms against my torso and prevented me from shooting again. I could feel Matt's bony elbows jab into my back as he was flattened against the wall behind me, and I gritted my teeth as I pushed back as hard as I could, trying with all my might to use my feet to propel my body forward to no avail. Mom's hall runner only slid forward and made me slip.

I felt the snap in my hand and shouted involuntarily. I pushed forward once again, and the spider fell forward just a beat after a gunshot rang through the air. Its dark eyes looked straight at me as it whined again, and its arms fell away from mine. I stood against the wall with my feet trapped under the spider's dead body simply staring at Ben's form with his rifle poised impressively to the side of it and contradicting the tears running down his face.

"Ben?" I kicked my way passed the spider, placing my hand on Ben's gun that was still aimed straight ahead of him. He shuddered but lowered the gun, looking at me and gulping.

"Let's go," I announced, pulling Matt who stood stark still and mute by the wall over the spider.

"Where are we going?" Ben asked, wiping his face on his shirt as I led the way downstairs.

"Yeah, where are we going?" Matt cried.

He squeezed my hand, and it took everything in me not to scream. Something in it was broken, but there wasn't time to dwell on the extreme pain generating from it. I had to answer. What did they want me to say? I didn't know where we going. I didn't know what we were doing. I didn't understand what the hell had just happened. I didn't even know what the hell to do as we ducked on the landing, shielding ourselves from the robots' bullets riddling the house.

I didn't know, but like my hand, that didn't matter because they were waiting. My kid brothers were looking at me—scared and confused, and I wryly thought of how Dad always told me to set a good example for them. It was my job as their big brother to lead them well because they looked up to me. I never really believed that, but their scared faces begged to differ.

Now, I just felt stupid for never listening to him, doing my own thing because I could. I should have done better by myself and them. Now was the moment I could change it all; I could change myself. I just had no idea how to do that, so I decided to do what Dad would do if he were here.

Exhaling with a shudder, I spoke again, hearing the waver in my own voice, "Just follow me."


	6. Try

Disclaimer: I do not own "Falling Skies."

**Six: Try**

_Matt…_

I'm not supposed to watch monster movies—not when I was younger and definitely not now either, but I've seen them. I've watched lots of monster movies—ones with scary clowns with evil grins and creatures that leap out of the pitch dark with their tentacles flying. In fact, I don't think there isn't a monster movie that Hal and Ben have seen that I haven't watched either. They used to always let me watch them back when they were really into monsters and when Mom and Dad weren't home because otherwise Hal and Ben would get in big trouble.

In monster movies, there was always some scary creature attacking people and eating their flesh like it was jerky. It was always disgusting, and most times, I would sleep in my brothers' bedroom in their bean bag because I was too afraid to go to sleep. Hal would leave the door open, and Ben would leave his computer on so that his screen saver lit up the room. Then like magic in the morning, I would wake up in my own bed, staring at my model airplanes hovering from the ceiling.

A part of me wondered if that was going to happen now as I dug my fingernails into Hal's palm and Ben gripped at his throat that had been strangled by the spider as he still gasped for air. We were all going to go to sleep, listening to each other's shallow breathing with our eyes wide open in the dark and not talking though we all knew each other were awake still. When we woke, the monsters—the spiders, the robots—would be gone. Mom would be alive, and Dad would be here too. Everything would be reset as if it never happened.

That was impossible though because we hadn't just watched a monster movie. We were living in one. These monsters were real—ten times bigger than me and scarier than anything I had ever had nightmares over, and there was no end in sight to this movie as Hal finally answered our questions. Where were we going? Nowhere was safe. The monsters were everywhere, but we couldn't stay here. The robot was still shooting at our house, and sooner or later, it was going to get us too.

"Just follow me," Hal replied, and I felt a little bit better as he led us down the stairs, having us crawl across the wood floors of the hall towards the kitchen. He let go of my hand, and I reached for it again, looking up to find Hal beginning to open up the back door.

"Oh fuck," Ben wheezed and heaving slightly as he stared out the window beside the door that was just behind Dad's chair at the kitchen table.

There was more, and I screamed out of fear. Two spiders were in our backyard, and I cried even harder, just wanting them to go away. Hal slammed the door shut the moment he opened it, but it was too late as the spider kicked it back open instantly with one of its legs. Before I could blink, we were darting towards the garage door. Forgetting that robots were still firing bullets through our house, we stood up and ran. A ripping sound filled the air, and smoke started wafting through the crack under the door.

"The house is on fire!" I yelled, and Ben pulled me further away from the door.

Hal didn't even seem to notice. He just kept looking around like he was crazy, opening stuff and banging things around. He kept breathing heavily before he suddenly stuck a jacket that he found in his car in the crack of the door, and I knew the monsters were going to burn us alive if they couldn't get to us and kill us with their hands. They were more than just monsters I remembered. They were aliens, and they were smart. We heard a loud thud and the shattering of glass.

"They're in the house," Ben said and looked at Hal.

"They're gonna get us," I panted.

"No, no they're not going to get us…we just have to get out…" Hal replied, pacing.

I was the youngest, but I wasn't stupid. There were two exits from the garage. The door leading to the kitchen was blocked by the spiders and fire now too, and the garage door that was closed would only make us walk straight into the robots outside. This wasn't good at all. Our chances of escaping safely sucked. It was worse than Hal's chances at doing what he wanted with his date the other night that he wasn't supposed to do, and it was even worse than Ben's chances that he would ever actually get to play in a game.

Dad would say I shouldn't be too overconfident, but I could not help but think and know I was right. We should have just stayed with Mom in the woods. There was no fire or robots or spiders. There were just trees. It was safer there.

"How?" Ben asked.

Hal didn't answer. He just stood there staring at his and Ben's dirt bikes. There was a thud against the door, and I screamed again, wishing everything would go away. Just like that, it was quiet. There were no more spiders just a sizzle noise pulsing on the other side of the door. We stood still as we waited for the robots to fire and the spiders to come and get us. Yet, that didn't happen. Nothing happened.

"Maybe they're gone," I said.

If they had just set the house on fire to kill us, then maybe we still had time to sneak out before it burned down. Remembering what the fireman had said on fire safety, I ran up to the door, quickly placing my hand on the door knob to see if it was warm. Hal pulled me away from the door just as I felt the pain in the palm of my hand from the scorching heat of the handle.

"They're not gone buddy," Hal said.

"How do you know? We can't hear them!"

Ben shook his head and rubbed his neck, "Why wouldn't they just set the house on fire if they wanted us dead? Why attack?" He looked at Hal and me worriedly.

"I have no idea, and I don't care," Hal said as he pulled at his hair. "We have to get out of here before we burn alive."

"Let's just open the garage door and go!" I suggested.

"Yeah," Hal bent down in front of me. "But we have to go fast buddy. Can you do that?"

I knew the answer was no. I was little. I couldn't run fast which is why Hal had ended up carrying me away from the highway. If he hadn't I would be dead, and that's when I realized my big brother had saved my life. I felt like I should tell him thank you. Mom would have wanted me to, but instead I just shook my head and whined because I was good at it.

"Since the car won't work, can't we just take the bikes? They're fast."

"The bikes aren't going to work either," Hal sighed.

"_Actually_…they should," Ben shrugged. "They're dirt bikes…just kick and go?"

"Kick and go—_yeah_ kick and go…I suppose it's worth the try." Hal nodded before he pulled his bike away from the wall, turning the fuel on, pulling up the choke, and laughing at Ben. "You better be right man."

"Moment of truth," Ben said softly as Hal kicked down, and the familiar purr sputtered out. They were smiling, and I realized I was too.

"We're not going to die," I said happily, and they both started laughing at me as Ben backed his bike away from the wall too, starting it just as Hal had.

"Now what?" I asked, standing between the bikes that were pointed at our closed garage door.

"Hop on," Hal said, and I obeyed, climbing onto the back of his bike before he slipped off. "Just hold it steady…"

I gripped the handles and tried not to let my hands shake as I steadied it as best I could with my leg down. Hal stepped forwardly quickly.

"Ready?" He asked us.

I shook my head no, "What're we doing?"

"I'm going to open the door. Then, I'll get on the bike. You hold on. Got it?" Hal asked.

I nodded though I didn't really understand. That didn't matter because Hal wrenched the garage door up anyways, jumping on the bike before I could blink. There wasn't time to think as we pealed out of the garage, and I gripped Hal's waist as tight as I could just as I had crushed his hand earlier. We drove straight through a haze of smoke from our house, and I glanced backward as we hit the street.

Our house was burning to the ground because of the robots, and the garage was only just shy of being consumed too. It was all gone—my bedroom, my stuff, everything but my bag on my back. Even Mom was gone. They took her, and now they took this too. I cried as the robots and spiders took notice of our escape from where they stood on our front yard watching our house go up in smoke. They ran then, heading straight for us.

"They're coming!" I yelled to Hal and Ben who hadn't had time to look back as we headed down the street.

"Just hold on!" Hal growled, and I grabbed my wrist with my hand around his stomach.

"They're shooting at us!" I screamed as the robots got closer with their arms turning several times. Blue light kept coming forward from the robot arms as the spiders ran faster to catch up with us.

However, Hal and Ben kept focusing on riding as if there was nothing behind us. They just kept going faster until we turned. The robots and spiders disappeared, but I could still hear them. We turned again and again and again and again. We just kept going further away from home with every second, and the spiders and robots were long gone—left in our dust.

"They're gone," Hal said.

Ben paid no mind, staring forward as he kept going as we rode along side.

"They're gone," He repeated.

We kept going.

"Ben!" Hal shouted, and finally, Ben seemed to hear as he jerked the bike suddenly before righting it quickly. "They're gone."

Ben nodded a few times, and they slowed down the bikes.

"We're going to stop," Hal said as we entered a parking garage.

They parked the bikes, and we got off. I felt the tingle in my legs that had fallen asleep like a thousand needles pricking me simultaneously. How long had we driven? I bit my lip as I tried to place the parking garage, but there were loads of parking garages. Maybe, we were lost, and that's why Hal had us stop. Dad had always said that if you got lost in the woods it was better to stop and evaluate than to keep running around and get yourself even more lost.

"What're we going to do?" I asked, sitting on the ground and pretending I didn't hear Mom's voice telling me not to sit in the middle of the road because I would get run over.

"We're going to find Dad," Hal replied as he and Ben sat down on either side of me. Hal clutched his hand close to his chest, and I saw the way it turned curled inward strangely.

"Where? He wasn't at home."

"We'll go to the school."

"To the university?"

"Yeah, if he isn't home, he'll be there."

"What if he isn't?"

"What if he is?"

I didn't reply to that neither did Ben, but Ben hadn't said anything though. I understood why. It was because he thought Dad was dead like Mom. He and Hal always thought I didn't hear what they said like I didn't have a brain because I was younger than them, but I heard. I heard Ben tell Hal not to lie to me because Dad was dead most likely. The thing is I've heard all sorts of things growing up—things I wasn't supposed to hear, and I had learned that just because I heard something that didn't mean it was true.

I would do what Dad told us if we should get lost in the woods: stop and evaluate, and it worked when I used it. However, sometimes I didn't want to know what people said, so I did the opposite and kept running. I would believe a person's words because it was better than the truth. It was the reason why I didn't cry right now because chances were that Dad really was dead like Mom, and I pretended that Hal was right instead. Dad was just at the school, maybe even waiting for us to show up.

I crossed my fingers, thinking maybe that would help. I didn't know why it would, but that's what people were supposed to do when they wished for something very badly. They did things that didn't make sense, and they forgot that what they wished for probably wasn't going to happen. So hoping it would help, I crossed my arms too and closed my eyes tight as I made my wish for Dad to be found alive, and when I opened my eyes Ben was looking at me funny. Hal hadn't noticed as he was checking out the tire of his dirt bike with his good hand.

"What are you doing?" Ben rolled his eyes.

"Nothing," I replied and stuck out my tongue. I didn't think he would reply, and I started digging in my bag to find something to eat when Ben held out a bag of chips to me suddenly.

"Here"

"Thanks," I muttered.

"By the way…"

"What?"

"Wishes only work on birthdays, when throwing pennies in to wells, and when you see a shooting star."

"So?" I bit my lip, trying not to cry. I knew wishing was stupid, but he didn't have to remind me.

"_So_…" He stopped talking then, laying down and rubbing his neck as he stared at the ceiling and used his bag as a pillow.

I ate the chips, trying to understand how I could make my wish come true. I didn't have a wishing well. Actually, I didn't even have a penny, and I knew I wasn't going to see a shooting star. It wasn't even dark outside yet. That only left my birthday, but that was months away. That was too long. I needed this wish as soon as possible. In fact, I needed it now, and that's when I shook Ben to get his attention since he had closed his eyes. He groaned in irritation.

"What?"

"You're birthday's next week. You'll be fifteen," I said.

"So?"

"So, if I tell you my wish, will you make it for me as yours?" I asked, waiting for him to laugh at me.

"Maybe," He shrugged.

"Really?" I smiled, thinking maybe this would work out well just like our escape from the garage had.

"Yeah, I guess," He yawned.

"Thanks"

"Yeah, yeah, what's your wish?"

"Wish that you find Dad alive."

He swallowed, not looking at me, "Kay."

"You promise to make it?" I asked, sticking out my pinky finger so that he could not go back on his word.

"I promise," He sighed, shaking my finger and shrugging.

"Why?" I asked. Ben never agreed to anything like this when he was in a mood.

"Just 'cause…"

"No, why?"

He laughed, "Because you don't know if something will work until you try."


	7. The First Bump in the Road

Disclaimer: I do not own "Falling Skies."

**Seven: The First Bump in the Road**

_Ben…_

"Your turn," Hal said, and I nearly slugged him.

"For what?" I grumbled, wondering why he was waking me. Usually, it was the other way around with me on the other end of his surly disposition.

"Keeping watch," He replied, handing me my gun as I wiped my eyes, and he took my bag as his pillow.

"Oh yeah," I yawned, remembering the agreement I had made with him just before falling asleep as I scooted out of the backseat of the vehicle we had broken in to.

I would sleep the first half of the night while he kept a lookout, and then we would switch after a few hours. Hal no sooner stretched out in the backseat and was asleep. Matt was still curled up in the passenger seat, so I slid into the driver's seat with my gun in my lap. This was mundane, waiting to hear bumps in the night. It felt lame like when I sat on the bench, waiting for the game to end so that I could just go home.

This sucked even worse because there wasn't a house to go home to. The aliens had blown it up, and I would like more than anything to hunt them down and blow them up to get even. However, they would kill me in half a second, and I rubbed the protruding bruise that rung my neck. One more squeeze and I would have been a goner. However, the spider hadn't squeezed, and in the weirdest way, I was grateful.

My gratefulness had only lasted a brief second though because as soon as it let go of me, it had Hal pinned against the wall with Matt being suffocated behind that. I flipped the gun in my hand, trying to remember the strength it had—the power I had—when I pulled the trigger. It had scared the hell out of me to raise my gun and not be aiming at a sheet of paper, but that fear was overpowered by something I didn't understand when I heard the snap of Hal's hand. Maybe, the spider wasn't going to kill him just like it hadn't killed me, but it wasn't a chance I was going to take.

So, I shot.

It died, and everything after that was just a blur of memories I would rather forget but knew I would never be able to. They were embedded into my very being just like Mom was, and I wondered what new things we would encounter when daylight broke. For all I knew, we could die in a few short hours. All hell could break lose, and we could be blown to smithereens. Yet that would have to wait until later, so trying to not fall asleep to the soft hums of Hal and Matt's snores, I started evaluating the car.

I clicked on my small flashlight, making sure not to point it at Hal because I'm sure he would love to gripe at me for not conserving battery use like he had griped about the gas in the bikes. He had yelled at me for keeping them riding for an extra ten minutes in the wrong direction which would mean we would have to double back when we headed to the university. In response, I had kept my mouth shut, not wanting to admit that the only reason I had kept going was because I was scared as hell that if I stopped the spiders would catch us.

The car's contents were boring, including nothing but napkins and worthless CDs. There was an air pressure gauge and a water bill that was late. I supposed it would forever be unpaid now, and after being bored by the contents of the console, I quietly leaned to the side as I opened the glove box, trying to be careful to not let it hit Matt when it fell open. It didn't, and I groaned to only find maps. However, when the thought that the maps could actually be useful crossed my mind, I sighed and made a mental note to grab them in the morning.

Clicking the flashlight off, I sat in the dark after that, wondering if this was how it war was for soldiers—sitting quietly until an unexpected situation was thrust upon them and they had no choice but to react. It was the complete opposite from all the games I had ever played in which my player could take down an army in a ten minute rush of combat. I wondered if I would ever get to play one of my video games again. In fact after the last few days, I wondered if I even wanted to.

Looking at my brothers' darks shadows as they slept, I knew what I wanted. I wanted them to tell me "I told you so" when we arrived at the university to find Dad held up in his office, waiting patiently for us and asking why it took us so long as he told us he had nearly started to come look for us but he had been hurt and unable to move. We wouldn't worry though because it wasn't fatal. He would heal, and we would tell him about Mom. Then, the world would spin forward somehow, passing by this quiet moment, and I wouldn't be waiting to hear bumps in the night anymore.

Relieving, dawn came at long last, and Hal and Matt woke. Only a few days had passed since everything started, but it was long enough that we were already beginning to acclimate. With them half asleep, I pulled a bottle of water and chips from my bag. Matt snatched the chip bag, and Hal yawned before downing half the water and passing it to Matt who threw him the chips in return.

"You eat?" Hal asked.

"Yeah," I nodded. "A few minutes ago…that's all our food and water now. Unless you guys got something I don't know about."

"Shit," Hal groaned and threw his head back on the seat, crushing the chips as he balled his fist.

"I do!" Matt exclaimed excitedly as he rifled through his bag and produced a bag of dried banana chips.

"_You_ put _those_ in the box while we were packing?" Hal scoffed, and I laughed.

"No," He narrowed his eyes and set the banana chips at center stage on the console, whispering. "Mom did."

I sighed and handed it back to him to put away, "Don't lose it. That's lunch."

"What about dinner?" He asked, blowing into the water bottle for no particular reason but the satisfaction of producing bubbles and looking between Hal and me.

"We need a grocery store," Hal said.

"And gas," I reminded him quietly.

"Yep," He moaned and ate the rest of his chips. "Let's pack up and get going."

"Already? But it's so early," Matt whined.

"You awake?" I asked.

"_Yes_?" He replied in confusion

"Good, then it's time to go," I said. "You want to see Dad don't you?" All I had to do was mention Dad, and Matt was on board, twisting the cap onto the water bottle faster than ever.

Between his sudden energy, Hal's determination, and my resolve for all three of us to survive, it didn't take long to pack up. The hitch was getting there, and feeling smug I pulled out the maps I had found in the glove box. We laid out the plan. It was straight forward, being pretty much the same typical route that we took any time we went to the university. There was only one way to get there of course, crossing the Charles River. That detail couldn't be avoided, and tucking the maps into my bag we pulled the bikes up into riding position, hoping that the gas we had was just enough.

"Nothing bad is going to happen…_right_?" Matt asked suddenly, biting his lip as he got onto Hal's bike, and I suddenly found great interest in my bike light.

"It'll be okay…right Ben?" Hal said, and I nearly jumped at my name. Looking up, both Hal and Matt were staring at me with their expressions full of expectation and hope respectively.

"Yeah," I smirked. "Nothing bad is going to happen."

"See," Hal smiled just like Mom did as we sat in the woods. "Nothing bad is going to happen."

"Kay," Matt nodded.

We kicked the bikes into go since Matt was pacified, and I was more than ready to feel the cool morning breeze hit my face as we rode through the streets. Whether the streets were strewn with rubble or immaculate, they were all empty, and like before there were dead people and abandoned cars. Only once did we encounter someone alive, and the group of six or seven people had run behind a building for cover instantly.

I couldn't blame them. We were making a lot of noise, and in a place so quiet, they must think we were something worse approaching. That's when it hit me. We were making a lot of noise, and I gripped the handles nervously, feeling the sweat squish between the two and thinking of the words I had just told Matt. I knew it had been a lie, but now, I really felt it was a lie.

My mind went racing, thinking of the numbers. Ships, spiders, robots—there could be millions of them, dominating the world right now, and we were calling blatant attention to ourselves as we rode nonchalantly down the street. My stomach flipped, and I swerved unintentionally. Hal noticed and hung back for a moment from his position ten feet ahead. I could already see the question forming in his mind, but I circumvented it by throwing him a fake smile as I sped ahead a few feet, catching sight of Matt who was nearly lulled to sleep from the ride with his head pressed against Hal's back.

I kept my worries to myself. Chances were nothing would happen anyways despite how many aliens had invaded the world. There were seven billion people on the planet a few days ago, and nothing bad had happened to us then. So why would our chances increase now? It was a number's games, playing the odds. Numbers had confidence attached to them. There was always an answer behind them and a solid reason supporting that answer. Plus, we had already encountered the aliens twice which had to count for something. There had to be some sort of limit of alien encounters one person was privy to. Admittedly, the rationale calmed me somewhat as we turned onto the next street.

It was a nice street with houses rising up on either side of us. Void of people except the dead and dismissing the abandoned cars, it looked like a postcard—one of the ones tourists would buy from a dollar stand. They would swoon over the picturesque quality of the little laminated card like it was Christmas, penning how tranquil the New England air was and how beautiful the leaves were in the fall on the back before shipping it home to their relatives six states away. I wondered what I would write if I picked up a postcard of this street right now. It certainly wouldn't have a happy ring to it.

"Where are we?" Matt asked groggily as he lifted his head off Hal's back, blinking as he took in the surroundings.

"Dude, you've been out for half a second!" I shouted to him.

"Just tell me when we're there," Matt grumbled, leaning back against Hal.

"Yes sir your highness," I agreed, and for a second, I thought I actually saw a faint smile cross Hal's expression. Yet, if it was there, it was gone before I could really register it.

"Turn!" Hal announced as we came upon the next road.

Doing as told, I turned, sliding my bike instantly and feeling the relief pump through me as I missed connecting hard with the asphalt. Hal slid as well, and Matt screamed bloody murder as they were slammed into the street with their combined weight not being able to keep the bike upright. Before I could think, my bike was abandoned and I was rushing to my brothers. Matt was crying as I pulled him up off the ground, and Hal was cursing in a fluid stream of words that would ensure he would be grounded as I helped him up next.

"You guys okay?" I asked, looking between them and crouching before Matt the second I realized he was nursing his hurt elbow. His jacket and shirt were shredded at the point of his injury, and a glaring scratch festering with asphalt and smudged with blood peeked through.

"It hurts," He sniffed.

"Shit," Hal whispered as wrenched his backpack from around his back.

I saw his matching injury to Matt's on his forearm and knee. Hal thrust one of his t-shirts at me, and having no water, I hocked back the biggest spit wad I could before taking aim. Thankfully, Matt was too distracted by his elbow to care that I was wiping my spit all over his arm, squirming with each touch the white shirt made. I tried not to laugh at the little whistle between his teeth as he clenched his jaw to keep from crying more.

"Okay, can you stretch it out?" I asked just as Mom would always do. He grimaced and shrugged, so gently, I removed his small hand from his arm that held it tight to his chest and extended his arm. He looked about ready to panic, but I flexed his arm back anyways.

"Ow!" He screeched.

"It's just the pain from the scratch," Hal regarded.

He plopped down beside us as he exhaled before using another of his t-shirts loaded with spit to clean his leg. Matt and I watched him grimace as soon as the t-shirt hit his shin, and he wobbled backward only to catch his weight on his hand that was already swollen from being crushed by the spider. I saw the pain fill his face and saw him grind his teeth as I took the t-shirt from his hand. He didn't speak just looked at me before I started cleaning him up like I had Matt, moving on to his arm after his knee. There would be bruising and swelling most likely, and I knew that Hal was in a wealth of pain between his hand, arm, and leg. Yet, he stood up anyways as if he hadn't felt a thing.

I rummaged through my bag as he and Matt took in the destruction we had nearly slammed into, twisting the cap of the pill bottle and offering him two aspirins to alleviate the pain. He nodded and downed them without water in a way I had never seen him do, preferring to mix his pills with an unhealthy swig of some sort of soda usually. There was no water at the moment, so he made do I understood as I too looked at the wall of rubble we were a foot short of running into.

It was as tall as us at some points and twice as tall as us at other points. Gone were the pretty houses and postcard worthy picture. The street was obliterated, and seeing the endless destruction from the windows provided by the rubble, I could tell that it was not merely this street. Entire blocks beyond this were destroyed. This area had been hit hard, leaving no conceivable way passable through except by foot. I looked to Hal, and he seemed to be on the same page as me.

"By the time we walk around all this," Hal growled, "We might as well go over the Longfellow Bridge."

"But we don't have gas," Matt whined with us ignoring him as I righted Hal's bike before he could.

"Thanks," Hal muttered.

"How're we going to get there without any gas?" Matt chimed again.

"Yeah, well," I gestured at his hand and arm.

"You guys aren't listening to me!" Matt screeched suddenly. "You never listen!"

"Well we are now!" Hal snapped, and even I jumped a little. That was the ever-impatient Hal I had grown to abhor, and it did my heart a little well to hear the irritation in his voice.

"Jerk!" Matt accused before running over the rubble like he had lost his mind.

"Look what you did!" Hal glared at me as he went to chase Matt over the rubble.

"What I did!" I shouted, clambering after him. However, I had no sooner pulled myself over the mound of rubble when I stopped up short.

It was a glaring scene—postcard worthy in the complete opposite way. The rubble stretched for a mile or so straight up to the river. Then the Boston skyline that we already knew had been severely altered stood before us in all its glory. Spaceships flurried over Boston like a fly on a carcass, landing and zooming around rhythmically. There were faint flashes of light from over the water, and my heart skipped a beat.

It was quiet here on this side of the river, but I could only imagine the atmosphere on the other side. We had had it relatively easy with the aliens wiping us out with neutrons bombs and explosives before attacking with brute force. However, within the city I knew everything had been much more intense—tight quarters and more people per square block. I imagined the bodies littering the ground, and my stomach flipped.

"They're concentrated over there," Hal stated.

"More people to finish off," I guessed. "They stopped the technology from the cities out, but they…"

"Not them," Hal shook his head. "_We_ did what they wanted. We all scattered, heading for the hills, and they circled around us like a swarm, forcing us inwards."

"Why?" I asked. "Why not just drop a few bombs on the city and be done with it like they lit up the highway if they wanted us all dead anyways? Why didn't they just kill us with force instead of smoking us out with the fire? It doesn't make sense."

"I have no idea…I don't understand…" He admitted.

"At least Dad's okay!" Matt chimed suddenly, seemingly forgotten that he was irritated with us, and Hal and I looked to him. Leave it to the eight-year-old to find the silver lining.

I glared at his back, and Hal hung his head as he sat on a chunk of concrete with pipes protruding from it. No doubt, he was thinking of our setback just as I was. We had two options: abandon the bikes and walk through the rubble, taking the familiar route or keep the bikes, find gas, and go over the other bridge. Both options sucked, and in Hal's state, it was a wonder if he could ride right now let alone climb over rubble for hours. I had seen his grimace as he took after Matt.

Sighing, I knew we wouldn't be crossing the river today. I could feel it in my gut. It was peculiar how quickly we had reverted without a car our disposal, and I wondered where we would be without the dirt bikes. Most likely, we would be burned alive in our own garage. Though it didn't make sense, two heaps of junk had been our saving grace, and I started thinking about the numbers again—the odds of what could happen, realizing I had approached it all wrong.

Two bikes, three of us, one death, one missing, two encounters with the spiders, billions dead but numerous aliens invading—we were greatly disadvantaged, and since this was not a game, there were no saving points or second chances. We had one shot to get this right which made picking our route that much more important. Not needing to ask which way we were going, I stood. Ironically, Hal did at the same as well, and calling Matt to catch up, we clambered back over the rubble to the bikes.


	8. Cries in the Night

Disclaimer: I do not own "Falling Skies."

**Eight: Cries in the Night**

_Hal…_

You know you're half-screwed when you've resorted to eating stolen food on a prop patio dining table setup in a grocery store after breaking into it. There were many things I thought I would do in my lifetime, but busting out a glass door with a quaint "Sorry, We're Closed" sign on it was not one of them. Yet, life was full of surprises, and this was one of them. I was just glad that another surprise had not been finding some little clerk in a green vest prepared to clobber us for breaking and entering.

It was a good store—clean, occupied, and stocked with food. It was a jackpot in an alien invasion, and Matt had already been on his third cookie before Ben and I had checked the place over thoroughly for humans or aliens. I could live without the aliens, but admittedly, it had been kind of disheartening to not find that green-vested clerk wielding a baseball bat down on our heads as we ducked and covered. I guessed everyone really was dead or had fled.

I supposed that made us one of two things for sticking around the city—fearless idiots or stupid idiots. Either way we were idiots, but at least we had a purpose—Dad. In a week's time, he had become the fixed point with all of us revolving around him, and I wondered if this shared focus would continue once we found him. What would we do when we found him?

"Throw up…" Matt said definitively, and I looked up from meditating upon my swollen hand to see Matt's small face pale and sagging.

"What?" I asked, leaning forward.

"I'm going to throw up," He informed us again, and Ben turned up his nose with his powdered donut midair in his hand.

"Ewe man, don't…" Ben started, but he didn't finish and I couldn't blame him as Matt vomited on the fake potted plant behind the table.

The kid lunged forward again, and I had the forethought to hold my breath that time. It didn't do much since the odor had already assailed my nose, but it made me feel better for having tried. However, Matt looked worse for wear as his face was crumpled up like a sheet of paper—covered in tears and vomit. Not knowing what the hell I was thinking, I stood up and walked away from the table, cursing under my breath as I charged down the aisles on a mission.

It was pink, foul-tasting crap with the consistency of kid's glue, but it worked like a secret antidote. With gratitude, I pulled the little bottle from the shelf before quickly putting it back, exchanging it for the bigger, family-size bottle just in case. Mom would be proud as it was a better bang for your buck. Although, I was stealing, so I guessed it was a moot point.

When I returned, Ben and Matt had moved three patio tables over, which was as far away as possible from the one we had previously occupied without abandoning the patio area. Matt was wiping his face clean while Ben was rummaging through his bag for clean clothes since Matt's current clothes were spoiled now.

"Sorry," Matt mumbled as he pulled off his shirt and jeans, and I couldn't help but think how young he truly was.

A pang hit my chest, and I took the clothes Ben pulled out and started tugging the shirt over his head and having him step into his jeans just how Mom and Dad used to dress him a few years ago. On occasion I had even dressed him when Mom was running late and Dad was making our lunches, but he was big enough to dress himself now. He was eight, and if he could convince Mom and Dad that Ben and I were the culprits behind half of his messes, then he was more than capable of dressing himself.

"It isn't your fault man," I assured him as Ben kicked his clothes stained with vomit off to the side. "Let's just reverse the damage done…"

"Ewe no!" Matt squealed, hiding behind Ben. "I'm okay."

"Gross Hal! I agree with him. He's good. Check it out. The proof's covering half of the plant over there," Ben cringed as I set the little cup of pink crap on the table in front of him.

"No," Matt whined.

"It's not a debate," I said, and I don't know if Ben or I flinched more as the eerily familiar words were uttered. However, I definitely knew I flinched more when Matt stopped whining. He narrowed his eyes, but he leaned forwards anyways and swallowed it seamlessly before slamming the cup back on the table and letting his tongue hang out in disgust.

"There!" He declared. "Happy?"

I nodded, feeling oddly relieved and taking a swig of my soda as we settled back down.

We were quiet then, falling into a casual silence. With Matt curled up on a lawn chair with his hands tucked under his head and Ben picking at the edge of the cardboard donut box, I sighed as we settled in for another night at the grocery store. We could have been at BU two days ago already if it weren't for me. I should have slid more carefully like Ben had, but in the moment, I had forgotten the extra weight that Matt's presence added. I couldn't bear to think of the dread that had filled me as the bike went down, imagining his little head connecting with the pavement. One twitch different and we could have been digging a shallow grave for Matt just like we had for Mom. However, that hadn't happened. Matt was still with us, and tomorrow Dad would be too.

I pushed that thought to the forefront of my thinking, allowing it to become my soul focus as I forgot about the bruise around Ben's neck that was so similar to Mom's, Matt's pale cheeks, and the smell of vomit that lingered in the air. I even forgot about the throbbing in my hand and closed my eyes.

When I opened them, it was night, and Matt's worried face came instantly into view.

"Ben's gone," He said promptly.

"What do you mean he's gone?" I asked, sitting up and taking his arms in my hands. It was too rough, and he winced.

"I can't find him anywhere in the store…and you wouldn't wake up. I kept trying to wake you up!" Matt accused.

"Shit!" My pulse quickened tenfold as I took Matt's flashlight from him, aiming it around our little table only to find that Ben's bag was gone along with him. "Shit!" I screamed again.

"I-I put some food in our bags and stuff when I woke up," Matt rambled quietly with his voice catching as he was on the brink of tears. "I didn't know he was gone at first, but you never woke up…his gun's gone…and I tried to wake you. I found this…" He pressed a cardboard box in front of the flashlight.

Sleeping pills. The punk had slipped sleeping pills into my soda. Whenever I found him, he was dead. Ben was a first class jackass for running off by himself.

"Selfish jerk!" I seethed before turning to Matt. "Get your bag," I ordered.

"Where are we going?"

"To find him"

"But they're out there right now!" Matt squeaked, grabbing at my arm. "The spiders! I heard noises earlier from out there in the dark! I don't want to go out there…please Hal…_please_…"

I got to my knees, bringing myself face-to-face with Matt. Tears were already leaking down his face as he wiped them with his shirt sleeve, mumbling about how I hadn't woken up like Mom hadn't. I pulled his bag onto his back, slipping his skinny arms through the straps before I wiped his face. I felt like a jerk just as much as Ben was for doing this to Matt, but it had to be done. I flipped off the flashlight.

"Just keep close," I said, and he went to slip his hand into mine as we stood in the shattered glass from the door we had knocked out. I didn't take it though, pretending not to notice as I had to hold the rifle at the ready as I stepped through the threshold with him in my wake.

It was pitch dark with nothing but moonlight as a guide, and every crunch of a leaf under our feet sounded like thunder. No sooner had we walked a few feet when I could make out the silhouette of both bikes, and as we got closer, I noticed the gas cans tucked beside them. I could only assume Ben had found them and placed them there. Some of my anger abated, but Ben was still MIA.

Suddenly, I understood Matt's fears as we advanced into the street on foot, abandoning the bikes and hoping that without a bike Ben had not gone too far. It was quiet other than the wind. It was chilly, and it was only going to get colder as time went on—without heat, without running water, without so much we had taken for granted before. I had to dismiss the thought from my mind. There would be time to worry later.

"How do you know where we're going?" Matt asked suddenly, whispering as he clutched the back of my jacket fearfully.

Shit. That was a good question. I didn't answer as we continued walking down the street, staying in the shadows and fearing that at any corner we would be dead. However, I still kept my eyes open and strained my ears to hear anything.

"You don't know where we're going do you?" Matt asked suddenly as we turned yet again.

I didn't answer again, shooting him a wary look that he thankfully couldn't see in the dark.

"What the!" I screamed when without warning I doubled over, expecting to face plant as I tripped on the concrete but confused when instead I was yanked sideways. I was just about to swing at whoever had me when Ben spoke up in nothing more than a whisper.

"It's me. It's me…stay down." He said earnestly, and with my eyes adjusted to the dark, I could just make out the trickle of sweat running down Ben's cheek from his temple.

"Where the hell did you go?" I spat as quietly as possible with Matt crouching beside us against the dumpster.

"To get gas," He replied promptly, twisting and turning his head around anxiously.

"Yeah, I saw that, but…"

"Shh!" Ben exhaled, clapping a hand over my mouth midsentence.

First, he drugged me and ran off in the middle of the night, and now he was literally shutting me up. I wanted to yell at him, but something in his paranoid state kept me from speaking. He must have noticed I wasn't planning to speak as he removed his hand, looking around frantically as he spoke again.

"I think they're gone," He said.

"Who?"

"The aliens," He said with his eyes wide, and I would have thought the kid had lost his mind if we weren't actually in the middle of an alien invasion. "They saw me by the grocery store just as I got back, so I just dropped the gas and ran."

"You drugged me!" I accused.

"You never would have let me go!" He countered as we stood. He was right.

"We needed the gas, and the longer we sat…" Ben stopped suddenly as the faint noise of a baby crying echoed on the wind.

"Do you hear that?" I asked.

"What is it? Is it a baby?" Matt asked fearfully, clutching at the straps of his backpack.

"It's coming from nearer the river," Ben said, stepping out of the alley and taking a step towards the river and one step further from the grocery store where our bikes and the newly retrieved gas sat waiting.

"Ben…" I started. "We can't…"

"We have to," He said with his face scrunched up, and I sighed begrudgingly as I looked down at Matt. I wanted to vomit at the thought of him being left in this alone like the baby crying in the dark.

"Fine, lead the way."

He led the way without being told as we slinked around cars and down the echoing streets. The baby's wail grew louder and yet less distinct as we drew near. Then suddenly, the cry was overpowered altogether as we halted just before ducking down another alley. The ground shook violently as a robot appeared at the other end of the alley with its gun arm at the ready. Panting, we ducked back around the corner out of sight, and I waited to hear the robots coming after us.

However, nothing happened, and quietly, Ben and I eased around the corner of the brick building. The robot still stood there, pacing the street where a group of people were standing. They were packed together without space—men, women, and children, and I understood that their collective cries had been the baby's cry. Some cried and talked out of fear as they all directed their attention down the street towards something out of sight. I didn't even know what had captured their attention, and I didn't want to know.

"We need to go," I said, urging Matt to his feet. He had his hand clapped over his mouth out of fear as he heaved.

"No!" Ben whispered back urgently as we pulled away from the alley.

"They'll kill us!" I replied. There wasn't time to debate. Didn't he understand?

"What about the people?"

"What about them?" I spat. "There's nothing we can do. The longer we stand here the likelier our chance of getting killed is…" Matt squeaked out of alarm at the comment, and I turned, pulling him along.

"But they'll be killed if we don't do anything!" Ben cried at my retreating back, and I waited to hear the sound of his feet following.

When I didn't hear his footsteps, I grumbled as I turned back around, half-expecting Ben to be standing defiantly in my wake. However, he wasn't. Ben was back against the brick wall with his gun at the ready in his hands as he poked his nose around the wall. I didn't even have the chance to hesitate as I rushed to him, grabbing the back of his jacket as he stepped into the alley, but I was too late.

Leaving Matt abandoned in the dark, I clobbered Ben, and we both fell into the alley with a thud. The robot swiveled at the noise, and I brought my hand up to my eyes to shield them from the robot's bright blue light as Ben and I stumbled backwards as we stood. The light covered us and then narrowed in—targeting the middle of my chest as it stepped closer.

It was the second time I had been confronted with imminent death, and yet, I couldn't help but catch sight of the people just on the fringe of the group. They stared with expressions full of pity, anger, and jealousy, but there was one brown-haired boy that just stared with his eyes cutting straight through mine. He bit his lip, and as the robot's gun arm swung up, the brown-haired boy rushed forward.

Others followed him, taking their chance to escape, and relief flooded me as the robot's attention left me abruptly. The moment was bittersweet as the people running down the alley barely made it ten feet before the robot unleashed hell upon them. I could hear the squeak of approaching spiders, and I caught sight of a few people including the brown-haired boy getting away. Yet, all my focus was on escaping.

Without yelling or even looking at each other, Ben and I fled, yanking Matt along with us. My rifle slammed into by body like a brick with each step further, but I didn't dare reach down to grab it in the chaos. There was a robot on our tail, shooting the other people in our wake one by one and tearing down the façade of the buildings with stray bullets.

"We'll never it make it all the way back to bikes!" Ben shouted hysterically as the blue light washed over his ankle briefly.

He was right, and when he veered directly to the right, I had no choice but to follow. I blew the back door of the building off its hinges, and we clambered inside. It was dark, and we fell straight into countertops and over bumps on the ground. Hiding in the dark, I followed Ben's heavy breathing until we fell through another door. The ground shook as the robot ran passed outside, and then it shook again as it ran by in the opposite direction once again. We sat in the dark for a while, listening to our own breathing and anticipating the arrivals of aliens to come wipe us out, but they didn't come.

"Is it coming back?" Matt whispered.

"No, I don't think so," I exhaled, and Ben clicked his flashlight on.

We discovered that we were hiding out in a walk-in cooler that was lined with metal shelves full of expired food, and we weren't alone. A girl about my age wearing all black with a white apron lay dead in a heap at the back. There was no blood or sign of injury. However, there was an inhaler just out of her reach, and I wondered how long she had made it, hiding in the dark as she waited to die.

"I don't want to stay here," Matt whined, and I couldn't agree with him more.

"But they're still out there," Ben interjected, and I knew he was right as well.

It only left us one option. Go up. So, we did.

Guided by our flashlights and leery of every creak in the floor, we found the emergency staircase tucked behind a door alongside a row of elevators. We went up several flights cautiously with Ben leading the way until we ducked onto a floor. It was a carpeted hall that was lined either side with doors marked with numbers, and suddenly, I understood that we were in a hotel.

"Which way? Which way?" Ben muttered as he turned around, and I had no idea what he was thinking until he turned left, turning every door handle as we passed.

Finally, one budged as it was propped open by a suitcase that lay open as if it had been dropped their presumptuously. Clothes fell out of the sides, and Ben stepped over it, heading straight towards the window. Matt and I followed him in, sitting on the bed and watching as Ben slowly pulled back the floor-length curtain.

"Hal, you have to see this," Ben said instantly as he stepped back into the shadow as moonlight flooded the room. Not knowing what to expect, I went to the window and looked out into the street.

There were more people, standing shoulder-to-shoulder as they filled the entire street and pressed all the way up to the alley we had just run away from. Robots stood in a line down the street, blocking every exit as far as I could tell, and spiders stood on top of vehicles.

"What do you think they're doing?" Matt asked as he sat beside Ben.

"I don't know," I shrugged, looking down at the hoard of people below.

"How many people do you think there are?" He asked.

"I don't know…a couple hundred," I shrugged again, and without meaning, my eyes flickered to Ben for confirmation.

He was my kid brother, but he was better at numbers than me. He seemed to agree with my estimate though because he didn't counter it thankfully. Instead, Ben's gaze was fixed on the street.

"I'll take the first watch," Ben offered, and even though it was Ben's turn, considering I had just awoken from a long sleeping pill induced sleep, I knew he was going to be annoyed if I suggested he sleep instead.

His focus wasn't even in the room with us like when he was playing one of his games or reading one of his books. His mind was in another world, and I didn't even want to bother disrupting him and getting in an argument. It was better to leave Ben alone, and I relented, lying down on the bed. Matt curled up next to me, and I lay staring at Ben sitting in the shadows as he stared out into the street, listening to the cries below until I fell asleep.


	9. Something Bad

Disclaimer: I do not own "Falling Skies."

**Nine: Something Bad**

_Matt…_

The bed shook slightly, and I opened my eyes instantly to find that nothing had happened.

It was only morning. I could tell by the sun coming in from the window and the way my lips stuck together from all the grimy yuck in my mouth. My ear hurt too from being bent and pressed against the pillow as I slept. I hated mornings, and I hated them even more now. I could never take off my shoes or backpack. I was like a stupid camel with a hump on my back, and I glared at Hal beside me for shaking the bed as I rolled over to find Ben asleep too.

He was slumped over on the floor, and I paused for a second to make sure his stomach went up and down to make sure he wasn't dead like the girl in the kitchen cooler downstairs. I sighed as he breathed in and out, and then I realized no one had been on guard at all. Hal was going to be mad.

"Ben!" I said, going to the window to shake him awake.

He didn't budge, and I didn't care when I looked outside. There were people in the street like Hal and Ben had said. They stretched in both directions for blocks, and I ducked down when I saw all the spiders and robots on the ground. Could they smell us like Hal had suggested? I supposed they couldn't because they would have taken us already, and curiously, I leaned to look out of the window again.

I yanked the curtain back some as I saw the robots that were stationed on top of the buildings and pressed my cheek flat against the wall to see more. There were more people, and a big cluster of spiders were grouped together while others crawled up the side of the buildings. I felt bad for the people who were stuck down there, but I agreed with Hal. I didn't want to be one of them, and I wished we hadn't had to come to the hotel at all last night.

"Mattie! Get away from the window!" Hal said suddenly, and I jumped, elbowing Ben. He awoke too as Hal joined us on the floor. "What are you doing?"

"Looking at the people," I answered, and he grinded his teeth in frustration.

"Holy shit!" Ben said, and Hal looked away, turning to the window instead.

"Fuck!" Hal said as he looked outside too.

"What is it?" I asked, and knowing they were going to ignore me, I pinched Hal as hard as I could. "What is it?"

"Geez Matt!" Hal groaned.

"Well, what is it?" I demanded. "Tell me!"

"Last night there was a couple hundred, but now there's…there's…" Hal gulped.

"…there's at the very least a few _thousand_ people," Ben said. "There's no way we're getting out of here."

"We're stuck!" I panicked.

"No…no we're not _stuck_…" Hal replied, but he kept eyeing the street below warily.

I was about to accuse him of lying, but I didn't get the chance as the room shook. It was then I realized that the bed had not shaken because of Hal tossing on his side. It was something worse. I could see the robot on the rooftop positioned diagonally from us, and fearfully, I looked up as did Hal and Ben.

"There's one up there," Ben said, holding his gun purposefully, and Hal did as well. I supposed it should make me feel better that my brothers had guns, but I only felt more afraid because it meant something bad was going to happen.

"How did it get up there?" Hal asked, looking to Ben. "Ben?"

"I don't know," Ben mumbled. "I fell asleep." Hal bit back whatever words he was about to say, but it didn't take much to imagine his ears steaming out of anger like cartoon characters did.

"What do we do?" I asked. "What if they find us?"

"I don't think they're looking for us," Hal replied.

"How do you know? That robot might know where we are."

"It would have come and gotten us if he did."

"Are you sure," I pleaded.

"Look," Ben said, pointing out at the captured people below. "They have thousands of people down there…I doubt they're worried about us. Okay?"

"Kay," I nodded, looking down as well.

We sat by the window the entire morning with the curtain opened a crack, waiting until we could sneak out unnoticed. However, our chance never came, and after a while it felt like watching a movie. I would be almost content, but then the robot upstairs would move. The entire room would shake as loud as thunder, and Ben and Hal would grip their guns even tighter. The only time they loosened their grasps was when Ben wiped his palms on his jeans when they got sweaty and when Hal lay his injured hand flat against the carpet, pressing down firmly.

"Why do you do that?" I asked after the third time Hal ground his hand into the floor, cringing in pain.

"Because," He laughed hoarsely, and I could tell he was trying to push the tears out of his eyes, trying to be brave. "It's healing, but I don't want it to heal wrong. You see it keeps popping out of place."

"Oh," I understood, getting excited. "We could make you a cast! Well, maybe…"

Hal smiled slightly, "We probably need a doctor for that."

"I bet there's one down there," Ben said, and the excitement I had over making a cast was gone just like that.

I lied down on my stomach, staring down at the people who had been standing for hours now, and I wondered if their legs hurt. Maybe, they had stood so long that their legs were numb like a thousand needles piercing their calves and feet. I blew my breath onto the glass for a while and drew stick figures in the fog. I kept drawing them—ones with hair and ones with clothes.

I drew all the people I saw below, and as I looked down again, I saw a girl look up at me. She was my age with red hair. I waved, and she brought her hand up a bit and waved back sadly. I wanted to look away, but I felt bad for her. She was trapped even more than we were. The little girl had no way out when at least my brothers and I had a chance. Her eyes became big suddenly, and she looked away quickly down the street. I did too.

As soon as I looked, the window shook, and the ground trembled. I felt Hal pull me up to my feet along with him and Ben as the people screamed below. They kept screaming, and before the people could let out another scream, the alien ships began to land one after another. At first, I thought that the aliens were going to take everyone away to be tested on like they did in movies, but instead, another alien stepped out.

It wasn't a spider or a robot. It was tall and thin, shimmering like metal as it stepped forward. A spider approached it, and I started to breathe heavily. The alien turned, and then the spider tilted its head.

"What the hell are they doing?" Ben shuddered.

I looked up to see Ben and Hal with their guns aimed at the window, and I brought my hands up to my ears. Something bad was about to happen. I could feel it, and it did. The spiders rushed into the crowd along with the robots from every side, and even the robots on the rooftops started shooting. There were so many people I thought it would never end. It was all a blur of screams and running. The crackling of fire echoed all around.

Then, after what felt like forever, it ended.

"They stopped," I said.

"But there's still people," Ben said.

"They're all _kids_," Hal commented.

They were right, and I brought my hands away from my ears. The ships opened up, and like at school, hundreds and hundreds of kids were led in lines to the ships. I waited for them to run away, and some did. However, they were shot instantly as soon as they twitched, falling on top of the dead bodies of the adults and the littlest children lying in heaps.

I wanted to run away, but I couldn't. We were stuck at the window—trapped by the robot above us and the massacre below us. A part of me wished that I was dead too like the little girl who had waved at me, and I wondered what it felt like to die. I wondered if it hurt, or if it had been so quick that she hadn't even noticed.

The kids disappeared into the ships along with all the aliens, and the robots jumped down from the rooftops easily. The ships came to life, and then, they left, leaving us still standing at the window—completely and one hundred percent unstuck. There was nothing to stop us from walking away now as if nothing had happened.

"We should move in case they come back," Hal said, snapping out of the trance that captivated us all.

"Come back for what?" Ben muttered. "I think they got what they came for."

I didn't have time to think about what Ben said. I didn't have time to wonder why the aliens wanted kids. All I knew was that we were getting out of the hotel, and I rushed down the stairs with Hal barely coaxing me to go faster. We reached the kitchen on the ground floor, and I was ready to keep running when we heard the scuttle noise of a spider. I bit my lip hard, feeling the blood pool in my mouth. Why weren't they gone? Why couldn't they just leave?

Hal cocked his gun, and Ben took a slow step forward. Ben pressed the door open with his hand, and I waited for the spider to come rushing at us like it had at home. Nothing happened, and we stepped into the kitchen. There were two bodies lying on the tiled floor, and I understood what we had tripped over in the dark the night before as we scrambled into the kitchen.

"_Please_ don't kick them again."

A voice said, and spooked by the comment, Hal and Ben aimed their weapons, lowering them as soon we peered around the cooking island in the center of the room to find a boy about Ben's age with his knees brought up to his chest and his back pressed against the cabinets. A little girl with matching brown hair was curled up next to him with her head in his lap, and a large red bruise was covering her forehead. She moaned in discomfort, and I noticed that her body wasn't just curled up. It was limp.

"Are they your parents?" Hal asked, pointing to the man and woman who were dead at our feet.

The boy nodded.

"I remembered seeing you last night…you ran into the alley first."

"Yeah," The boy laughed with his voice raspy from crying. "Lot of good it did us huh? My dad suggested hiding in here, but…but the mech's light was already on us...they were shot before the door could even close."

"And your sister?"

"Her name's Jessica—Jessie," The boy said, rubbing her back softly. "One of the skitters squeezed her head when they caught us yesterday morning. She was okay, but she fell asleep last night after…"

"After you all came in here?" Hal finished.

"She cried herself to sleep," He explained. "I've been trying to wake her up all day."

Hal hung his head and didn't reply. This was bad—very bad. I felt the tears prick my eyes, and I slipped my hand into Ben's much bigger one, knowing that the little girl was probably going to die. Ben looked down at me, giving me the same fake smile Hal kept throwing in my direction. They kept trying to assure me that everything was going to be okay, but the more they did, the more I was beginning to realize it wasn't.

"She isn't going to wake up. Is she?" The boy asked, staring down at his little sister.

"It's probably a hematoma. She's bleeding in her brain," Ben said softly.

The boy nodded his understanding, "She's cold. She has goosebumps."

"I'm Hal, and this is Ben and Matt. Why don't you let us help you take her away from here," Hal suggested, and the boy looked to his parents before nodding.

"Can you give me a minute?"

Hal agreed, and the three of us stepped out the back door into the street where people had fallen dead in their tracks because of the robots. I was angry, and I wanted to scream and kick. The aliens were gone, taking the children with them, but we were still stuck no matter what. We were stuck in the middle of dead people everywhere we went. I didn't scream though.

I balled my fists, pacing by the open back door while Ben and Hal faced either direction of the street cautiously. However when I caught sight of the boy moving inside, I stopped. He kneeled by his parents, and curiously I peeked through the door, seeing him close his eyes and clasp his hands. He was praying silently, and as he finished and said amen, my anger left me. I was only sad.

"I think he's ready," I said, turning to Hal. He nodded and went back inside, coming back out with the little girl in his arms. The boy had Hal's rifle in his shaking hands.

"I don't know how to use it," He admitted nervously as we walked away from the hotel.

"The safety's off," Hal replied. "You hear something, you cock it. You see something, you pull the trigger. Got it?"

"Got it," He nodded, but I could tell by his face that he was scared not of the aliens but of the weapon in his hand. I couldn't blame him; I would be too.

Luckily though, nothing happened on our way back to the grocery store, and this time we brought the bikes inside after gassing them up, setting them up by the shattered door after clearing away the glass. We set up a bed for Jessie too, using blankets and sleeping bags. She even had pillows, and the boy set a teddy bear beside his sister's head.

"How long does it take someone to die when they're bleeding inside?" I whispered, not wanting the boy to hear me as he hadn't moved from his sister's side for hours while Hal, Ben, and I walked the aisles to find dinner.

"I don't know," Ben shrugged.

"Just keep quiet Matt," Hal said, and I nodded.

We all kept quiet as if one whisper would bring an alien down upon us as we went back to the patio setup with cans of ravioli and the only loaf of bread we found that wasn't moldy. Hal made up four plates, setting one beside the boy without saying anything. The boy only blinked, thanking Hal, and when it grew dark, Ben lit a single candle, setting it on the floor. Hal left to keep watch by the door, and Ben and I lay down in the lawn chairs. Ben flipped on his side, falling asleep quickly, but I remained awake, watching the boy and his sister.

He loved her very much, holding her hand even though she didn't hold his back. After a while, she stopped moaning in pain. Her breath slowed. Eventually, it stopped. I waited for him to scream and cry—to panic and check that Jessie was truly dead like we had with Mom, but he didn't. He kept holding her hand, kissed her forehead, and lay down beside her.

I turned on my side to find Ben still awake, and I knew by his face that he had been watching too. He didn't say anything, just lifting his blanket, and I rolled off my lawn chair, curling up under his blanket with him and listening to the boy's crying until I fell asleep.

When I woke up, it was light again. Ben was gone. The boy was gone, and the blanket had been brought up over the girl's head. My stomach felt sick as I remembered, and I went to the door to look out. Ben was in the parking lot, walking back towards the grocery store with Hal and the boy in his wake. They had shovels and dirt covered their shoes.

"We dug a grave in the park across the street," Ben said when he walked in. "Put your coat on, and get your bag."

I did as told, and the boy picked up his sister, leading the way to the park. It was a good spot I supposed. It was underneath the trees and near the playground. It was still warm enough for flowers to be in bloom, and after they finished packing the dirt overtop her, the boy said another silent prayer and laid a bouquet of flowers on the ground over her.

"Thank you for your help," The boy said without looking away from his sister's grave.

"Are you sure you don't…" Hal began but stopped when the boy sat down by the graveside.

"You can go now," He said shortly.

"We're sorry for your loss," Ben said, and we left then, leaving the boy by himself as we retrieved what was left inside the store and grabbed the bikes.

"Come on Matt," Hal said, pulling up the choke and waiting for me to get on behind him, but I couldn't help but squint to see the boy sitting in the park alone.

It wasn't fair, and I was glad more than ever that I had Hal and Ben. The boy had no one. He was by himself, and I tried to calm the anger that bubbled in my stomach again. Nothing seemed very fair anymore. I got to keep both of my brothers when this boy lost his only sister. It was then I realized that there was one thing worse than being stuck in the middle of people dying—being stuck alone. I wondered if that was what Dad was experiencing right now.

"Matt?" Hal asked.

"I'll be right back," I said, rushing across the street to the park.

"Matt!" Hal hollered behind me. "If he doesn't want to come, he doesn't have to!"

I didn't care what Hal told me though, I ran straight into the park, stopping just a few feet shy of the boy and the grave. He jumped at my presence, and I mumbled an apology.

"What do you want?" He asked, sounding just like Hal and Ben when I came in their bedroom unwanted which was almost every time.

"We're going to find our dad," I said.

"That's what your brothers said," He sighed.

"Oh…well, what are you going to do?"

He shrugged, "I don't know. Stay here, I guess."

"I wanted to stay by my mom's grave, but I didn't."

"Why not?"

"Because I was afraid."

"Of what?"

"Of being left alone"

"You're like her," The boy laughed. "Jessie hated doing things by herself. She was always nagging me to play with her…I can't leave her alone now too." He shook his head.

"She isn't there you know," I said. "My mom…she wasn't in there anymore. It was her body, but she was gone. I don't think my mom would have wanted me to stay with her body and be alone."

"Why do you care so much kid?" He sighed, sniffling and resting his head on his arms in annoyance.

"Because I don't think your parents and sister would have wanted you to be alone either." I knew it was the truth by the way he was still. "Are you sure you don't want to come?"

"If I come will you leave me alone?" He asked, and I nodded. He stood and wiped his eyes with the bottom of his shirt as we walked out of the park.

"What's your name by the way?" I asked as we caught up to Hal and Ben.

"James Boland," The boy replied. "But you can just call me Jimmy."

**Author's Note:** Thank you so much for all the reviews of support and encouragement! I really appreciate them. Also, I apologize for the very long hiatus between the end of summer and the posting of the last chapter a week ago. Hopefully, that won't happen again. – GG


	10. So What Now?

Disclaimer: I do not own "Falling Skies."

**Ten: So What Now?**

_Ben…_

"I want to take back my wish," Matt said as soon as the red signs with "Boston University" emblazoned in white came into view.

The kid had barely slept a wink and yet was full of energy like an energizer bunny. In fact none of us had after spending another night camped out on the floor—this time in a gas station. A part of me thought we were slowly moving through every type of commercial building like a bad tour of Boston. I supposed a mall or a library was next. The library wouldn't actually be too bad at least there were books.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, and Matt looked at me in outrage. Apparently, I had forgotten something that I wasn't supposed to forget.

"My wish!" He exclaimed as we tucked the bikes behind some bushes for safekeeping.

We had seen more people on this side of the river, mostly adults in larger groups of a dozen or so. The bikes had elicited even more attention as people stuck their heads out of the Brownstones and hospital doors as we flew passed them. We had only stopped twice too. One time a ship had flown overhead and dropped a small neutron bomb in the distance towards Winthrop, and two more had lit up the sky toward South Boston minutes before.

"Oh _that _wish?" I lied, laughing. "I wasn't ever really going to make that wish."

"Well good cause I take it back now that we're here!" He said, narrowing his eyes and running to catch up with Hal who was leading the way across the common.

"What's he talking about?" Jimmy asked.

"Matt? He's always on about something," I shrugged. I mentally added that if he was going to be sticking around for any length of time that he would see for himself, but Jimmy was a tagalong. I was surprised he had come at all, and he had every right to leave at any time.

"Dad's office is this way," Hal announced.

The classrooms were empty, and the air inside was stale. No one had come in or out of the building recently, and I was reminded of all the times Hal and I would come to play during the summers in the office while Mom was working. Hal would end up running off to the gymnasium to shoot hoops, threatening to punch me if I told, while I killed a few games of solitaire and minesweeper.

After that we would get hotdogs and ice cream because it was the only thing Hal and I could agree on. Then, Dad would drive in the wrong direction on the way home, pretending he didn't realize just so we could pass by Fenway. Hal would boast that one day he was going to play there, joking that he wanted me to attend every one of his games one day and sit in the red seat just so he could have a whole stadium cheer when I got hit by a baseball.

He thought he was being funny, but the joke ended up being on him. He could pitch a ball without a problem, but when he was the batter up, the whole field moved in. Baseball was his kryptonite. It only took him a half season before he gave up on his dream of Fenway. The part that sucked for me was that he took all the focus he had on baseball and transferred it to lacrosse, going from an average player to the star of the whole team for the next eight years.

"What's he a professor of?" Jimmy asked as we climbed the stairs.

"History," Hal replied.

"American History," I corrected.

"Whatever," Hal grumbled.

"He's a history buff in general though," I shrugged, and Hal glared back at me. "Don't get him started on anything you don't want to know everything about."

"But I like hearing Dad's facts and stuff," Matt said.

"That's because you're hearing everything for the first time," Hal said.

"Well at least I'm not old like you!" Matt laughed, running ahead of us.

"Fine, try to keep up with an old person like me!" Hal said triumphantly, taking off down the hall with Matt running to catch up.

"Last one's a rotten egg!" Matt called back at me, and Jimmy looked at me, waiting to see if I would take the bait.

I didn't. I knew what was coming. I knew the minute we breathed in hot air when the door was opened. I knew as every last hallway was empty, and every classroom was locked up tight. No one was here. Dad wasn't here. He was long gone, and I wasn't surprised when the heavy feeling of acceptance settled in my stomach.

Mom always said Dad was amazing—a great guy, a wonderful husband, and an even better father. So when he promised to be just an hour behind us on the highway, Dad had kept his word. Most likely, we had passed by his car upturned and charred beyond recognition along the way days ago.

Jimmy held back when we reached the office, leaning against the doorframe as I entered. Matt was already inside, standing forlornly with his arms hanging by his sides without purpose. He was lost as our final hope was dashed. Hal was sitting in Dad's desk chair with his head in his hands.

"He isn't here?" Matt said in confusion. "Where is he?"

Hal didn't dare meet Matt's eyes.

"You promised you'd find him!" He accused. "You promised to find him alive! _Remember_?"

When Hal remained muted, Matt screamed out of anger before seizing the paperweight off the edge of the desk. Before he could chunk it and create a permanent gash in Hal's skull however, I pried it out of his hand. He kicked the desk, huffing as he sat in the chair meant for a student. Hal leaned back in his own chair, fiddling with everything in reach.

"You lied," Matt mumbled after a while.

"I'm sorry," Hal said, and I didn't blame him for not meeting Matt's eyes. I wouldn't either.

I roamed around the room absentmindedly. Nothing had changed here. It was as if time had stood still. Every picture was in place, and every book was lined up neatly. Even Dad's briefcase was still sitting wide open in its spot on the corner of the desk with his paperwork inside and the leather-bound book that he used for lectures on top of that.

The book had always been a kind of mystery to me—something that was Dad's and Dad's only and thereby something I would never bother touching. For a moment, I was just about to be brave and reach out and touch it until Matt spoke.

"He's dead isn't he?" Matt mumbled, staring hard out the window.

Hal didn't answer. I didn't answer. Neither of us wanted to be the ones to confirm that he was dead. Whether it was because it would crush Matt even more or ourselves I didn't know. I nearly jumped when Jimmy spoke, having almost forgotten he was with us.

"Would he be anywhere else?" Jimmy asked.

It was a reasonable question. It was one I would have asked had I been him, but if Dad wasn't at home or BU, he was gone most likely.

"Probably not," Hal admitted.

"My…my mom," Jimmy said with the words catching in his throat. "She kept Jessie and I home from school that day, and we waited for hours in our basement for my dad to come home. We thought he was dead, but he wasn't."

"What happened?" Matt asked, turning in his chair.

"He came home the next morning. He was hurt, but he was home."

"Jimmy? Do you think our dad is alive?"

"There's always a chance. Right?" He replied nervously as he looked between Hal and me for permission.

"Yeah, there's always a chance," Hal agreed before tearing out a piece of paper from Dad's notepad.

He scribbled words on it, and we all came in closer to see.

"Dad, we're alive and will look for you no matter what. –Hal, Ben and Matt," Matt read out loud.

"What're you going to do with it?" I asked.

"Tape it to his door, so that if he comes back he knows we're alive."

I nodded my agreement, and he added the date at the bottom.

We closed the door after that, leaving the office the way it had been when we arrived only minus Dad's lecture book that I had stuffed into my bag when Hal and Matt weren't looking. I felt wrong taking it, but considering we might not come back, I couldn't bear to leave it behind. Dad would want it when we found him I reasoned. It was like his third arm, and a part of me hoped that the only reason he had left it behind was because he had intended coming right back.

Maybe, Jimmy was right. He was alive somewhere and trying to find us, or maybe, I was just becoming naïve like Matt. Either way, it didn't matter because it was too late to return the book now as we went to retrieve the bikes only to find that they were gone.

"Where the hell did they go?" Hal ranted, kicking in aggravation.

We all twisted and turned around like idiots with Matt shrieking as he pointed his finger across the common.

"Look! Look! They have them. They stole them!"

I would have thought he was crazy unless I hadn't seen the blur of our bikes disappear around the corner. Taking Hal's cue, I ran with my gun at the ready. Jimmy and Matt followed dutifully in our wake. It was a bizarre chase as the bikes disappeared around another corner before heading directly down the street, and they braked suddenly, allowing us to catch our breath and move on as if the thieves knew we were tired.

They were taunting us. Why the hell were they taunting us? Thinking perhaps I was crazy, I looked around suspiciously, fearing that we were going to stumble upon another massacre. Maybe, the aliens had some mind control trick that they had inflicted on the two men in order to steal our bikes and lead us straight to the mothership. It sounded insane, but I was just about to inform Hal of my suspicions when the bikes came to a screeching stop outside the gym.

The men got off and ducked into the building before we even hit the stairs, leaving the bikes available and within our fingertips. Both Hal and I came to a halt as Jimmy and Matt caught up.

"It's a trick," I said, looking around frantically.

"What the hell?" Hal panted.

"Should we take them?" Jimmy asked tentatively.

They were tempting, being only a few feet away and lying on their sides at the top of the slight hill on the sidewalk wrapping around the gym. Only a few steps and then we could be out of here, escaping on our own bikes from the thieves who took them. I didn't even realize I had taken a step up the stairs when I felt Hal pull me back.

"Look at the windows," Hal commented, and I took notice for the first time of the building.

All the windows were all dark, having been spray painted over in black. One of the doors opened suddenly then, and we all jumped backwards.

"They're goading us," I said, and unsure of whether I was being courageous or stupid, I recklessly took the bait.

Hal kept calling me from behind, but I walked right up to the door anyways, sliding it open with my back.

"You didn't have to scare the kid Harrison!"

I felt my stomach plummet as the woman's voice greeted me as soon as I stepped through the door. She looked tough, in her thirties with a gun slung over her shoulder and wearing camo. I suppressed the urge to gulp uncomfortably. A few men stood behind her looking just as tough as her with set jaws and similar apparel. She stepped forward, and I stepped back involuntarily, causing the door to close behind me, and I hoped that wouldn't turn out to be my fatal flaw.

"You told me to lure them here!" One of the younger men who had apparently stolen our bikes protested.

"Don't mind Harrison. He's an idiot," The woman smiled, dismissing Harrison's offended expression with a wave of her hand. "I'm Captain Lisa Hardman. It's nice to meet you," She said warmly as she extended her hand.

"Ben Mason," I said after hesitating for a moment. I didn't shake her hand though, but she didn't even seem to notice or at least care as she pulled her hand away.

"Well Ben, welcome to BU safety zone. I'm in charge here, so you going to ask your friends to come in or should…"

I felt the door hit me then, knocking me out of my confused stupor as Hal barreled inside, aiming at Captain Hardman and the others.

"What the hell Ben!" He exclaimed. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"Are you?" Captain Hardman asked. "Son, if you don't lower your weapon I will have one of my men seize it from you."

I watched not one but all of her men directly behind her slide their fingers over the triggers, and Hal wisely lowered his weapon, looking at me warily.

"Who are you?" He demanded, not letting go of his gun though I hadn't either.

"Lisa Hardman, I'm a captain with the United States Marine Corps . I'm in charge of the BU safety zone."

"There are safety zones?" Hal sputtered.

"Not officially, but we do know of one more still holding at Fenway since the invasion. I assume there are more out there."

"Really? The only large group we've seen. They were…" I shook my head.

"Massacred?" One of the men mumbled softly, and looking at his face, I knew whatever his story was that it hadn't been good.

"Yeah," I nodded.

"So…so this is it for your safety zone?" Hal asked skeptically, looking around.

It wasn't much just an entryway really. There was plastic curtain hanging across the entrance like at a construction zone, and as if accepting the challenge, Captain Hardman nodded to Harrison who drew back the plastic a few feet. Hal and I stepped forward reluctantly, and for a moment, I felt like I did last week on the morning before the ships had even entered our atmosphere, before we had knowledge of anything outside our own narrow scope of the world.

I had rushed down the stairs for breakfast, being already late for school. I stole Hal's toast without his notice, and he blamed it on Matt. Matt ratted me out, and Mom sighed because she was worried we were all going to kill each other that night. Dad told us that was fine so long as we didn't mess up the house. Especially the carpets—Mom had added. It had been normal.

Looking out, I felt normal again. There were people, and they were alive and not surrounded my aliens. They were walking and talking and lying down on treadmills. A few little kids were playing on the rock wall rising up the center of the building with the different levels wrapping around it. People were eating on the stairs, and even though the broad daylight was blocked out from the covered windows, lanterns and candles lit the building with a bright yellow haze.

Hal let out a shuddery breath of relief, and I laughed when I looked at him. Was he thinking the same thing as me? Did he wonder if Dad was possibly here? Did he feel the same small burst of hope that had hit me as I walked past the plastic curtain?

"How many people are there?" Hal asked, looking over the rail and then looking up.

"Give or take fifteen hundred," Captain Hardman said from behind us, and I turned to find her and her men staring at us. I supposed we did look like kids in a candy shop with our jaws dropped open and our eyes open wide.

"That's a lot of people," I commented.

"It is. We've had about fifty, sixty people pour in every day since the invasion."

"And the others?"

"Most are from the university—a lot of students and professors…"

"Professors?" Hal asked, turning his head around so fast I thought he would get whiplash.

"Yeah," One of the soldiers said, stepping forward and pointing below. "See there's a whole group of them right there."

I looked down, seeing the men and women he was pointing too, and desperately, I hoped that Dad was among them.

"I don't see him," I told Hal.

"Let me get Matt and Jimmy…I left them hiding by the sign…" Hal said in a rush before running back outside.

"He's my brother, Hal," I explained to the soldiers. "And this is our brother Matt, and our new friend Jimmy. We met him on our way here yesterday," I introduced as Hal came back though the door not a moment later.

"On your way here?" Captain Hardman asked.

"We came from Somerville," Matt nodded.

The soldiers looked at us with nothing but a mix of surprise and worry at the admission.

"Why did you come all the way from Somerville?" Captain Hardman asked, looking to Hal since he was the oldest. "You could have been killed!"

"We came to find our dad," Hal explained. "He's a professor here."

She nodded though clearly not impressed by our judgment, "I guess that explains why my men reported four kids on bikes heading into the school."

"Hey, we aren't kids," Hal protested, and even I knew how lame he sounded as he spoke. A few of the men snickered at him, and I actually felt a little bad for Hal.

"Yes we are," Matt piped up. As always, he had impeccable timing as the men only busted out laughing. One glare from their commanding officer set them straight though.

"Sloan, take them downstairs and see if you can sort them out and find their dad."

A guy with blonde hair and a friendly smile came forward, and I knew he had been picked because of his general sense of pleasantness. They didn't want to scare people away first thing which was why I assumed they hadn't cornered us at the office with all their muscle and guns. It was better to let people find it out for themselves—especially kids and especially kids with guns. Hal probably would have taken a crap shot at one of them if they had come at us.

"What's his name?" Sloan led the way with us on heels. Captain Hardman and her men pulled the plastic closed again.

"Tom Mason," Matt chirped up instantly at the potential of Dad being here. "Do you know him? Is he here?"

"I don't know," He smirked weakly at Matt, and I kept looking around furtively for the back of my dad's head in the crowd. "I'll take you to the wall."

"The wall?" Hal asked.

Sloan nodded as we took a turn at the stairs, heading straight down the first hall and stopping in front of a wall plastered with paper. There were lists and pictures covering every inch, and small objects were even set alongside it or taped amongst the papers. Candles were lit all the way down it as well.

"First ten feet's present and accounted for then missing _then_…" Sloan finished, and I knew what wall it was.

Known dead.

It took up the largest section and wrapped around the corner even. There was a list for every surname based upon first initial from A to Z, and each list was pages and pages thick. Some were so thick that they had been tied together since a staple wouldn't even go through. What was disgusting was the list of the unknown. They had been numbered like cattle with descriptions scrawled beside that.

"Check the accounted for…first," He instructed, and that was the only word that stuck in my head as Matt rushed forward.

"First?" I whispered. Sloan saw my hesitation and came to stand beside me and Hal.

"If you boys don't see his name on the list, check down there," He nodded to the list of deceased. "If you find him there or see him in the unknown, let me or someone dressed in uniform know. There's only a few of us from our company and another that made it, so if you don't find one of us, find someone with a sash on their arm—any color. Got it?"

We nodded.

"We'll be able to take you down to see him if he's in the gym," He shrugged grimly. "I'll let you guys be. Good luck buddy, nice meeting you." He said, ruffling Matt's head as he walked away.

"Thanks Sloan!" Matt called after him in excitement.

Matt's excitement died away quickly though as we moved down the wall, scanning the accounted for, then the missing, then the deceased. I wasn't really sure if it was a bad or good thing that we hadn't found him. All I knew was that, he wasn't here in any way, and when the candles began to extinguish one-by-one as the night drew on and the four of us found ourselves wedged between two racks of dumbbells while most everyone was asleep, Hal swiped a candle from a nearby table and pulled out a packaged cupcake from his bag.

"I've been saving it," He said. "Happy Birthday man."

"Thanks," I smiled, and Matt pulled at his lip.

"Hey Ben," He began. "You know what I said about the wish? You think you can still make it for me…that is if you don't already have another one…"

"Yeah, I can do that," I agreed, and the two of them sang happy birthday to me while Jimmy watched silently with his knees pulled up to his chest.

When they finished, I blew out my candle and made a wish that I would find dad alive. It was only when I had unwrapped the cupcake that I realized I should have tacked on the word "soon." It didn't matter now. What was done was done, and what was going to happen unfortunately was. The point was that I had tried.

"That's yours," Hal said, pushing away the piece of cupcake that I offered him.

"I can't eat my whole cake alone," I reasoned, shoving it into his hand and giving Matt some as well. "I have to watch my physique."

"Yeah, don't want to actually put some flesh on your skinny ass," Hal laughed.

"What do you know?" I countered. "You're a kid."

"Jerk," He sighed before lying down on the cold floor. Matt curled up as well with his pack under his head, leaving me to sit alone.

Jimmy had his head, resting on his arms now with his eyes closed, and I knew he couldn't have fallen asleep yet. I looked down at the cupcake in my hand and tore it in half, holding it right in front of his face. I was right that he was awake as he opened his eyes and sat up.

"D'Artagnan," I said.

"What?" He shook his head.

"He was the fourth musketeer," I said. "Athos, Porthos, Aramis, and D'Artagnan."

"Oh, gotcha," He said, taking the cupcake. "Thanks."

"No problem."

He lied down after that beside Matt and I squeezed between Hal and the dumbbells. We were all quiet, but from my position on my side I could see everyone's eyes still open. Another day was over. Jimmy's family was gone. Mom was gone, and Dad was MIA without a clue as to where else he could be. I sighed heavily when Matt voiced the concern we were all thinking.

"So what now?"


End file.

Falling Skies, Adventure, Family