Son of Tesla

SON OF TESLA: Chapter 7

"STILL HASN'T TEXTED?" Rachel asked Jem, who was sitting on the couch and checking his phone every eight seconds on the nose.

"Nope," Jem tried to keep the dejection out of his voice. He'd tried texting Jayne with no response, and his call had gone to voicemail. It was 8:06. Their film had started at 7:45.

"Probably just can't find the right shirt. You know how girls are." Rachel's stockroom of consolatory optimism was quickly running out of inventory. "You're such a catch, after all."

Jem rolled his eyes and checked his phone for the third time that minute.

"Mommm! That weird car's still sitting out there." Ashley had been obsessing over a four-door sedan parked in the street for the past quarter of an hour.

"I wish you'd find a better way to get my attention than by shouting my name like that."

"Your name's not 'mom.' " Ashley's turn to roll her eyes.

"It is to you. And it's not even directly in front of the house. Probably just lost, checking GPS."

"Why is it all beat up like that?"

For the first time, Jem's eyes left his phone. "What do you mean, 'beat up?' "

"Like it's beat up, dumb-head. It's all smashed in the front."

"Ash..." began Rachel.

"Is it silver?" Jem cut his mom off, then strode across the living room without waiting for a response.

"What's wrong, Jem?"

"Probably nothing, it's just–"

"Just what?"

But Jem didn't hear. He was staring out the window, wide-eyed.

"That's him."

"It's who?" asked Rachel.

"Oh my gawd you are freaking me out," trilled Ashley. "Is it a serial killer?" She'd been into Jem's DVDs.

"Hush, Ash!"

"It's the guy who hit me today."

"Well damn, now I'm freaking out." Nobody noticed Rachel's expletive. Both kids were fixated on the world beyond the window.

"What's that?" Jem asked, more to himself than anyone else. The streetlights were spaced far apart in this neighborhood, and the nearest one barely illuminated the outline of the parked car. The lawn and street were a jumble of shadows, but Jem thought he saw one of the shadows moving. Approaching the car. Touching it.

The kitchen door slammed shut with a bang, making them all jump. Ashley screamed. Footsteps on linoleum. Someone had come into the house. One of the overhead lights gave a brief flicker.

"Get behind the couch!" shouted Rachel, grabbing Jem's and Ashley's arms in each hand and herding them across the living room. "Stay down!"

Jem shoved the couch away from the wall and Ashley tumbled to the carpet. He grabbed his mom's hand and tried to pull her down behind him, but she slipped through his fingers and took off for the fireplace. Hands stretched for the iron poker. A dark figure slipped around the edges of the kitchen door. Jem caught the movement in the corner of his eye, his head turned toward his mother.

A slim silver rod leveled through the doorway. Electric blue glow. A penetrating hum.

"Mom! Duck!" Jem screamed.

Rachel whirled, eyes wide, an indigo ring reflected in her light brown iris. Pupil contracted to a pinpoint with adrenaline.

Jem had heard that time stretched in moments of stress, but to him it seemed more like it fragmented. For the next few moments, time became a series of disconnected shards.

The first thing Jem felt was a concussive pressure pounding his eardrums, followed by a brilliant white flare coming through the windows facing the street. The next was a physical blow to his face, knocking him back against the sheetrock wall. After that, flickers. Impressions.

Ashley, on the floor, hands over head, screaming, a piercing falsetto offsetting the deep rumble of expanding gases and flame as something on the street exploded.

Blistering heat.

Glass flying, imploded windows.

The smoky smell of a thousand barbecues all cooking at once.

His mom, rocked off balance by the blast and tumbling onto the sofa.

A sizzle, blue flash.

And the deafening roar, flooding his senses.

Thanks for reading my story! Please VOTE and let me know what you think of it so far, then check out Chapter 8!