Somewhat the Beginning (A Falling Skies Fanfiction)

Terry Clayton

I woke up again and got out of bed. I saw my roommate in her bed reading a magazine, "Oh hi." I said, she stopped reading and looked up. "Hi." She said back, faking a smile. I walked over to her, "Um, we never really met before, I know it's weird seeing that we're roommates and all." I held out my hand, " I'm Ashley." "Amber." She shook it, obviously annoyed by my interruption, then continued on reading. "Well OK then." I murmured rolling my eyes and went out the door.

I walked in the hallway and heard yelling. I followed the sound and it was coming from the gymnasium. I went inside of the gym and dodged and weaved through the group of people until I got up to the front next to Hal. There was a middle-aged man yelling at an older man about not leaving his kid. The middle-aged man looked familiar, I believe I talked to his daughter Emily once or twice, but the older man (wearing full military attire) looked completely new to me. "What's going on?" I asked Hal. He leaned towards me, "Well the commander of the 7th Mass., Terry Clayton, came to find us and warn us about a possible group Mechs and Skitters headed our way," he whispered, "So we're trying to decide wether or not to send the kids under 20 to a ranch with him until the adults can catch up." "What?" I asked looking at him wide-eyed.

"That's what I said." Hal huffed and turned his attention back to Clayton, but I turned around and squeezed my way out of the crowd. I had to go find Tom and see what this was all about. I stomped down the hall until I saw him in the "Meeting Room" (from my guess it used to be an old Science room, at least that's what I assumed by the large space and few left over microscopes). I saw him talking to Capt. Weaver and they were pointing on a map (probably planning where to send out more scouts). "Tom?" I asked. He turned around, "Yes?" "Can I talk to you for a minute. Outside." Tom looked at Weaver, who nodded that it was fine, and he walked out into the hallway with me.

I hesitated, thinking of what to say. "How do you feel about this Clayton guy and his plan to let all the kids leave with him?" I asked.

"Well for one, it's not a plan, just a last resort." He said.

I breathed out in relief. "Good."

"But I'm not saying it's not going to happen. Weaver and Mike Thompson trust him, but I don't like the idea of letting Ben go already. If what Clayton says is true, we will regroup with the 7th Mass. and move on together."

"And if we don't? What if he's lying and he's a spy or something?"

Tom paused, apparently thinking it over, "Ashley, I know you have a knack for reading people, but you don't even know Clayton. I've got to go, but I'll tell you the plans as soon as we finalize them."

"You promise?" I squinted at him.

"I promise." He pulled me into a hug, "Oh my goodness when did you get so tall?"

"I'm not that tall. Plus I haven't caught up to Hal yet, but I'm moving on up." We broke our hug, said our goodbyes, and Tom went back into the Meeting Room. I wondered the halls for a few minutes then went to the front of the school, outside, and sat on a bench. I looked past the sentries and barbed fences to the empty homes and quiet roads. I wonder how many people lived on these streets and in theses houses before the invasion. How many innocent kids played on the streets and frolicked in the sprinklers here? The thought was a bit depressing. "Hey Ashley!" Ben shouted, running towards me with loose-leaf papers in his hand. "Oh hey Ben." I waved at him. "I took your advice." "What advice?" I asked, perplexed. "Writing poems. I wrote a few and I was wondering...do you want to read them?" "Sure."

I scooted over on the bench and he sat down. He handed me the papers, "Please go easy on me," He said, seemingly nervous but excited, "I've never really wrote a poem before." "Never?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Well I wrote simple, random, rhyming poems in school, but none about me and my feelings before." I saw he had numbered the pages. I put them in their numerical order and read them.