The 5th Wave Fan Fiction

Wave 1

Before I can say anything else, Dad squeezes my hand, turns to me and says: "Car. Now." We run back towards the car and hop in. Dad pops in the key and turns but... nothing. The car won't start. Through the window I look around and see that no one else's car will start either. There's only one option: walk home. It's a long walk and we pass house after house with the power out. For some reason this unsettles me more than the giant alien ship still hovering in the sky. I think I'm going to be sick.

We're almost home; just one more block and we'll make it back to Mom and my little sister. Dad and I continue to walk in silence, the air around us thick, heavy with tension. My head is still spinning from seeing that--whatever is was--in the sky, idle and foreboding. My stomach twists itself into knots like a pretzel and my breaths come out in short, quick puffs. I stuff my hands in my pockets when I feel a slight tremor shaking them. And one question replaying itself over and over in my head, What is going on, what is going on, what is going on?

Almost there. We're close. But a new wave of anxiety tugs at my heart and I have a feeling. That feeling you get when you know something is about to happen.

And then it happens. A deafening crash. An earthshaking explosion. Immense heat scorching my back. I'm thrown forward and fall onto the rough asphalt of the road.

Dad yells my name. I call for him back. I push myself off the rough road and look around. Dad's lying a few yards away from me. "Dad!" I scream and run toward him. I kneel beside him, he looks up at me, lifts his hand, gives me a thumbs up and a small smile.

Then I look in the direction where the explosion came from. Just a mile away, smoke rises from a fire engulfing the smoldering ruins of a plane. From what I can tell, a commercial airplane. My heart drops into an abyss and my lungs fail me. The power. It stopped the cars. Darkened homes. Crashed planes.

A foreign, strangled sound escapes me and a tear falls down my cheek. The question repeating itself again.

What is going on?

I let my dad try and stand up on his own and continued to look at the sky, where loads of smoke formed from the plane crash. I looked back at my dad when I realized he was standing and intertwined my hand with his. I saw fear on his face, but he tried to hide it with a crooked smile.  

We ran. Ran as fast as we could to get home. I felt my heart beat rapidly in my chest and my breathing was hitching. My feet started to hurt with our speed. I felt like doing a happy dance when I saw our house in the distance and we ran even faster. Once we arrived, we ran up the front porch steps and my dad started to bang on the door so my mom could open up for us. 

 "Open up! Open up!" My dad yelled, while I tried to get my breathing back to normal. 

 Once we saw the door handle twist, we were face to face with my mother. And she also had fear on her face. She hugged us tightly and we entered our home and I slammed the door shut. My dad paced back and fourth in our living room while my little sister was crying. Everything is going to be okay, everything has to be okay. Tomorrow will be normal. They will get the power back on. I know it. I was wrong.