Of The Wolves And The Orphans

Wrong Place Wrong Time

  Decision to go to New York for the summer with my father: worst decision of my entire life, I think to myself dryly. I race down the back alleys, keeping my head down and finding cover anywhere I can. I dodge, weave, lunge, roll, trip, never stopping, never breathing except in gasps that tear at my lungs

The air was rancid with acid on my tongue as I pant and the smoke makes me retch up any food that may have remained in my stomach. An explosion that is only a few blocks away shakes the ground, throwing me off my feet. I feel the sting as the pavement digs into my already blood covered elbows and knees as I roll. I get up and start over again, bent on survival. I duck behind a dumpster as an unknown object flies overhead. I just know that whatever those things are, they are blowing people up without regard to anything or anyone, and I definitely won't be an exception.

Thump, thump, thump, thump my feet go on the pavement. I feel a twinge in my knee.

Crap

Not now!

I limp on, trying to ignore the old injury that chooses now, of all times, to make an appearance.

Sweat trickles down my forehead. I feel too weak and light headed to watch where I'm going. I suddenly burst out of the alleyway and into the main street. I let out a little shriek and grab the alley wall, whipping myself back into its shadow. I cling there for a second, letting my sobs rack myself as I rest for a moment, sagging into my own arms.

Suddenly, something catches my eye. Whether it was the wind ruffling the little brown mob of hair, or just a sixth sense, I'll never know, but I look up and see a small boy of about four or five years old standing in the middle of the street. People run by him, fleeing away from oncoming flying objects, but no one takes the time to help him. He must have gotten separated from his parents. He is now standing alone in the debris of the street, staring with wide green eyes at the oncoming bombs.

"Kid!" I hiss, trying to get his attention. "Kid, look at me!" he doesn't even turn. The world seems to slow down, everything is in slow motion. There is no sound. No more bombs, no more gunfire, just me and the boy. After a fraction of a second of hesitation, I start sprinting towards him, but everything is too slow. A bomb goes off on my right, nearly knocking me off my feet, but I press on. Finally, I reach him and grab his tiny body, yanking it against mine protectively, and then everything speeds up. The U. (because they really are Unidentified Flying Objects since I have no idea what they are) are almost on us. Maybe, if I can dodge their fire than I'll be able to make it out, but that is a long shot. Suddenly, a couple of them drop down off the U.F.O's and what I see makes my heart stop.

They are ugly Extraterrestrial creatures. Thick armor like metal encases their whole body while they carry extremely high tech guns in their hands. They seem to almost run on some form of electricity from the wires that I see in their neck. Are they even alive? I shudder and push the boy behind me.

"Get into the alley kid!" I hiss over my shoulder to him. I meet his huge green eyes as he stares up at me. He shakes his head mutely and stubbornly. I grit my teeth in frustration, and admiration. Plucky little kid. But I don't have time for this. The... aliens?... Are almost on us.

"I said get into the alley and run! Do you want me to tell your mother?"

His eyes fill up with unshed tears and he whispers, "My mummy is dead."

I feel a pain in my heart like a rusty, serrated knife stabbing my heart. "You don't want to end up like her do you?" I say a bit harsher than I mean to. "If not, than get your little butt into the alley and run!"