FLASHed

13. The afternoon after the morning after

[a country town in outback Australia]

It's the morning after the morning after...hang on, I better check my watch, it's hard to tell the time of day since the black cloud blocked out most of the sun...correction, It's the afternoon after the morning after the morning after. I'm looking out my bedroom window onto the smoky street. We're at the top of the main road into town, and people used to think our house sucked because of its pov location, but now my friends reckon it's the best house in town 'cause from here I can see all the action.

First it was the tanks. There was, at least, a hundred of 'em. "Green brick shit houses." My Dad said, "Let 'em mess with that lot and then see what happens".

Then the army marched through. We rushed out onto the footpath and waved. Mum gave me a heap of homemade ANZAC bickies to give to a soldier. I chose a sergeant with huge P2V railgun tossed over his shoulder, he smiled and ruffled my hair as I gave him the packet. Lots of others were handing out treats for the Diggers too.

My stomach rumbles when I think of those cookies. We ran out of food weeks ago. Dad said the army was fighting so that we wouldn't starve—I guess the army didn't win.

Not only food, but the town ran out of fuel for the cars and also electricity. And the water's gone all sandy. Dad's gone out with Jack and the Remington to try and shoot a roo or two. That was three days ago, before the bomb. I hope they come back.

Now my eyes are glued to the white, ash-covered road. After the nuclear bomb went off, we started hearing weird sounds like wobbly pings shooting through the sky. They weren't natural, but they were loud. Each time one went off it was followed with lighting over the hills. I can see it all here from my room. The pings and lightning are getting closer, though, and now I can see bright explosions over the hill just outside of town.

It would be good if we could run, but the next town is over seventy clicks away, and there are big fires out that way too. No, Mum's right, it's best we stay here and wait it out.

There's a big explosion, and my room shakes like there's an earthquake or something. Mum screams for me to come down to the laundry. "I'm coming!". I yell back just as a something big walks over the hill. It's like a giant, bad guy version of the hulk buster. It's thumping its two big metal feet as it walks along the road. The thing is carrying cannons with red globes spinning about.

Mum screams my name as if I'm dying or something. I can hear my sister crying.

I run back to the steps and yell out for them to shut up in case the alien hears them. It'll be walking past our house any minute.

Back in my room, I can see the dragon robot. It's closer and has its gun pointed at Mrs Dolley's house. The weapon glows bright orange for a second then lets of a red blast right into the place. Poor old girl wouldn't have stood a chance. I don't think I've ever seen a fire that bright.

I know thousands of aliens in games and the movies, but none of them look as scary or angry as this one. It looks over to my house, and I think it sees me. All I can think about is running down and getting Mum and Amy out of the house, but I'm frozen, and my legs begin to shake. The alien stomps up the road straight for the house.

It knocks over our letter box and stops in the front yard. I can see it raise its gun at me, and the end starts to whiz.

The next thing I see is a big flash. I blink the bright light out of my eyes. Then I blink again because I didn't expect to be blinking at all. The alien is still standing there with its gun pointed straight at the house.

You know that Sergeant I told you about? The one with the railgun. Well, it was him. He was on the back of a brown gelding standing in the stirrups with his blast visor down while he aimed and shot the alien's head clear off its shoulders.

He raises his visor and looks up to me in the window and gives me the big thumbs up. Mum and Amy rush into the room  just as Dad and Jack ride up on quad bikes.

It was a big family hug fest when we met 'em outside. I can't repeat what Dad said about the aliens, but I didn't think he'd ever be happy about the nukes. "Those nukes," he said, "saved our bloody arse!"

(820 words)

This posted for the @ScienceFiction Winter Ashes prompt.