For The Many

Chapter 1

The world has changed quite drastically as of late. The economy is no longer down the toilet, crime rates have dropped drastically, and the human race is fighting to stay alive.

The invasion had been a blur- or had it? Was it ignorance that meant we hadn't realized it? Was it the steady stream of faces that no one knew or cared to mention? Or had it been sudden, like the last remaining news reporters and politicians wanted us to believe? No one knows for certain, and no one really cares any more.

They've destroyed all the buildings, ripped up all the roads and levelled all the forests, so there's nowhere to hide except underground, and they've already monopolized so much space down there... Whenever someone digs a new hole, or tries to expand one that already exists, there's always that fear, burning in their lungs, crawling up their windpipe. What if I dig right into one of their nests?

-Marta Pennyworth, May 3rd.

“God dammit,” a tall, balding man cursed. He had been underground for almost twelve hours now, which was considerably less than most, but still stifling for him. “I haven't had a cigarette in ages!”

“Dad, you had one a few hours ago,” his daughter corrected, her brows angling themselves into a concerned arch. She didn't like it when he left the hole – she knew he had to, but that didn't mean she liked it – and he only made it worse when he went for a cigarette. Normally, they would leave only when there was a shipment of food to one of the nearby holes which must have been occupied by the aliens, take what they could carry, then sneak off back down their hole again. But as of late, there had been cigarettes in the shipments too. This meant that although her Dad had given up smoking when they had been banished to these holes, whenever he had the cigarettes, he would want to smoke.

Normally, he would smoke in the night, when no one would see it, or him, for that matter, but that was not the case this time. It was midday. The sun was beating down on the wasteland that had been left behind. He would be noticed if anyone so much as looked in the direction of their hiding place. “Dad, no, please! Wait until night time. Just a few more hours-”

“No one even surfaces any more. It'll be fine.” With that said, he grabbed the packet of cigarettes that had been on the floor, taking the magnifying glass that lay next to it in the other hand, and climbed up the make-shift steps of the entrance.

Her breath caught in her throat, hitching on something that wasn't there physically, but couldn’t feel more real. Her mouth ran dry, the anticipation of danger dragging every second out until it felt like an age. She heard the first, long sigh as her father expelled the smoke he had inhaled, and she felt herself let out the breath she had been holding in. He was okay. They weren't up there. No one was. Thank goodness.

Her eyes dropped to the floor as relief washed over her, numbing her to any negative feelings. He was safe. The only other person she knew she could trust was safe. As her eyes scanned the dirt floor, they saw movement. This wasn't abnormal. It could be anything. A bug, or a worm. Anything. As she focused on the object that jumped and juddered in one place on the dry, dirt floor, her eyes bulged in recognition and realisation. It wasn't a bug or a worm. It wasn't something that she could explain. It was a clod of dirt, its erratic movements only justified by one thing. The earth was vibrating beneath her. That couldn't be good.

She heard it next – the low rumble of a moving vehicle. They were here. She heard her dad exhale once more, not even a hint of wavering in his breath. He had seen it, but shown no sign of starting or warning anyone. Did he hate her? Did he want her found? No, she berated herself. All this time with him had just addled her logical thinking skills. He just didn't want them to know I existed. I can escape like this. I can get away.

Marta moved quickly through the tunnels of the hole, moving away from the entrance and towards the second hole they had dug – the emergency exit. She was sure her dad would give her a warning, some chance for her to run. With this certainty in mind, she ascended five of the seven steep steps, slowly crouching as she went so that they couldn't see her on the surface. She waited, listening for anything, anything at all, that could give her some clue as to when to move.

She heard the vehicle stop, and she imagined that it wasn't far from where her father stood smoking. Two sets of boots hit the ground with a hollow thud, and quieter taps followed as they approached him. She could feel her heart slamming against her ribcage, but she kept her breathing as even and quiet as she could. She knew how this would end. She didn't like it, but there was little she could do about it. One for the other.

“Hello sir,” one began. His voice was low, gravelly, and just a little nasally. She hated him already.

“Fuck off,” her dad sneered. She assumed the speaker recoiled.

“Sir, we aren't here to offend you-”

“Your face offends me, now either do your fucking job or piss off.” The alien grumbled, shuffling from foot to foot. He wanted a conversation, not abuse. Good job, Dad.

“Sir, please. Just let me ask you this, are you alone?” His voice was inquisitive, hungry for information. Marta heard her dad snort.

“Have you seen me? If I wasn't alone, don't you think I would have presented myself a little better? Now seriously, piss off.” She heard something being ground into the dirt, and assumed it was his cigarette. “Plus, if there was anyone, I would have told them to run by now, wouldn't I?”

Marta loped up the two steep steps, immediately launching herself into an all-out run that wouldn't last for long if she knew the state of her cardiovascular system as well as she thought she did. Cursing ensued, both aliens swearing. One started forward, running after Marta at his top speed, while the other simply stayed in place. It's restraining him. Keeping him in place for some reason. Marta would have loved to run in the opposite direction to save her father, but she knew she couldn't. She wouldn't make it in time, and even if she did, what would it achieve? Her own death. That's all.

The tap of running feet was gaining on her. The running alien was only a few feet away now. She could almost feel his presence. It made her feel sick.

A hand wrapped around her left wrist only seconds later, jerking her backwards. She turned to look at the situation that had been behind her, but was now the only foreseeable future. Her father had his arms twisted behind his back. There was a black box on his chest with a green light that was blinking angrily at her. The alien holding her arm had navy blue hair. It would have been black in any other light. He was obviously one of the ones that had been used as members of society in the takeover. Instinctively, she stepped as far away from his body as possible, despite the constant yanking on her arm.

The next thing she heard was a loud boom. It tore through the still air, sending particles careening into each other and sending a shock wave towards her. It had originated from her father. The black box had exploded, sending its contents outwards.

She saw the green bubble expanding, getting closer and closer with every violent heartbeat. It was a suicide mission? No, it couldn't have been. The one who had been holding her father still stood tall. But how was that possible?

The wave reached her hand. Instantly, it dissolved. Shock registered on her face, contorting it into a mixture of disgust, anger and dread. What the hell is this stuff?

As she fell backwards, the green anomaly ate at the rest of her arm. The only thought that ran through her mind was I'm going to die. It was up to her shoulder before the wave dispersed just as quickly as it had appeared.

Utterly bewildered and terrified, Marta stared at the bloody circle that remained of her arm. She could still feel it. Still feel the wind as it brushed against her skin, the sun as it slowly killed cells, resulting in the tan people seemed to love. But she couldn't see it. That was the crucial thing. It wasn't actually there.

The alien who had held onto her arm smiled. “Gotcha.” His hand spread, reaching towards her. Her hazel eyes went wide once more, shaking slightly. What would happen to her now?