They came from the stars

Chapter nine

  "Looks like a place we could hold up for the night. I don't know, what do you think?" I asked as I handed the scoped rifle back to Trent. He raised it and studied the building from afar.
   "It could be dangerous" he said in a hoarse voice. His face was already pale and I knew he'd thrown up once this morning already, even if he had tried to hide it from me.
  "Sitting out here in the freezing cold is dangerous. You look like shit. If you don't get inside and get warmed up soon then I don't know what will happen."
  His features tightened and he looked from me back to the church. With a sigh he lowered the rifle. "Fine, but we only stay a day or two."
  "We'll stay until you get better" I said as I grabbed up my own rifle and moved past him. "Now come on."

  The parking lot was almost completely full, which made me a little nervous. None of the cars looked like they had moved in a while though, so that made me feel a little better.
  I sprinted toward the cars and slipped between them in a half crouched stance as I moved toward the entrance to the church. Both glass doors remained close and I could only see dark shadows beyond them. Trent was bringing up the rear behind me. I could hear his breathing and it worried me. It was too hoarse and ragged. He sounded terrible.
   "I'll check it out, stay here" I said as I turned back to him.
  "No" he sputtered, "we go together."
"You're not going to be much help in there if you can't keep up and you give us away with your breathing" I said. It was harsh, but got the point across.
"Then be careful" he whispered as he sat against the door of a silver sedan.
   I scanned the building one more time for any movement, saw nothing,and bolted toward the front door. Two seconds later I threw myself against the brick wall and leaned over to look inside. In the fading daylight (which could hardly be called daylight since it was mostly cloud cover) I could make out the shape of tables, chairs, maybe a couch. No people or aliens though. I reached for the door handle and pulled open the door. It was unlocked.
  Cold air swept in with me as I took my first step inside. Not that it was warm in here anyway. The place was freezing cold and only marginally better than being outside.
  To the left was a set of double doors that led into the chapel. On the right was hallway that had lots of doors on either side. I peeked into the windows of the chapel, but I couldn't see anything. Deciding my best option was the chapel, I pulled open the doors and clicked on my flashlight.
  The beam of my flashlight swept across a few dozen empty pews covered in Bible's and prayer beads. A stage with three tiers sat across the room and directly to the right of it was a pool that I guessed was for baptising people. The room was empty otherwise.
  Next, I jogged down the hallway and tried all the doors. All but one were locked and the door opened to reveal a maintenance closet. I didn't bother closing the door.
 
   It was snowing again by the time I had drug Trent into the church. He had been unconscious when I'd gone back for him, snow already dusting his face and hair. At first I thought he was dead and I'd nearly broke down and cried until I heard him wheezing.
  Back in the church I had laid Trent out on one of the pews in the chapel and covered him with a thermal blanket. He shivered underneath it. I wanted to do more, I had to do more, but I didn't know what else to do.
  I grabbed a camping axe from my backpack and jogged down the hallway. With the axe in my hand I hacked the doorknob off the first door. It hit the floor and I threw myself against it, smashing it open with my weight. The room was filled with stage equipment and musical instruments, but nothing of use. The next two rooms proved useless as well. When I hacked open the last door my muscles were tense and my forehead was drenched in sweat. As I pushed the door a smile formed on my lips. There, sitting in front of me, was an office with a fireplace.
   It took my nearly two hours to hack up enough wood from the pews to keep the small fire in the fireplace going. I had started with a few books, avoiding Bibles and instead using story books and whatever else I could find. Even if I wasn't religious, it didn't feel right burning Bibles.
  The office was cozy and kept heat well. On one side was a large cherry wood desk with a black rolling leather chair. To the right was a fold out futon. Though it took some time, I had finally gotten Trent to wake up, though I could hardly call it being awake. He groaned and when I told him I needed his help to get him into the office he coughed and wheezed in response. Ten agonizingly slow minutes later we hobbled together into the office and I tried to help him onto the futon. Instead, we both fell onto it. I wiggled out from beneath him and put my bag against the broken door to keep it closed. Ten minutes later the room was a lot warmer.

  Trent still shivered as he lay in bed. I watched over him helplessly. If he didn't get medicine soon he would die. A choice had to be made, and I had to make it.

  I waited until morning. The snow had stopped falling for the time being and a light powdery snow two inches thick covered every square inch of the world around me. I shivered and pulled my coat tighter around me.
  About a mile and a half down the road was a small town. From a distance it looked lifeless, but I didn't trust that. Looks were deceiving.
  I took an hour to circle the town once. Nothing moved in the town except the barren trees that swayed in a gentle wind. It was now or never, so I started walking.
  I was aware of every shadow, searching every window, watching every doorway as I slipped down a back alley and followed it through town.
  The only intersection in town was empty except for a car that had been rolled over. Chunks of tattered clothing hung from broken shards of glass on the passenger side window. Brown streaks across the open driver side door drew my attention. Whoever had been in the vehicle had suffered a terrible fate.
   I pushed all thoughts, except for those about Trent, from my mind. He needed medicine and I had just found a pharmacy. Sitting across the snow covered intersection was a little shop on the corner with a sign shaped like a pill bottle and a character shaped like a pill with goofy eyes. The sign in the window said closed.
  The place didn't look like it had been hit yet, though that was just a quick observation. I needed to get inside.
  Clutching my rifle with cold hands, I trusted toward the shop and peeked inside through a window. It looked intact, which made me nervous. Something had to keep people from looting this place. The question was, what was it?
  I tried the front door first and found it locked, to no surprise. The back door yielded the same result. With no other choice I smashed the glass front door with the butt of my rifle and stepped in, my boots crunching on broken glass.
   The shop had several aisles, most of which were filled with various medical supplies. It was a gold mine! Unfortunately, I couldn't take everything. Instead, I raced toward the back counter and felt my heart sink when I saw the metal shutters were closed. A sign reading come back tomorrow hung on the door where pharmacy technicians would have entered and left.
  I couldn't come back tomorrow.
I thought about hacking my way through the door, but it was solid metal. A quick jog around the shop revealed no keys to unlock the door. It seemed hopeless.
   I was jogging down one of the aisles when I saw the shadow creeping in through the front door. Instantly I dropped to a crouched and held my breath.
  The dog-lizard creature, which I had started calling hounds, was moving through the first aisle. It lifted its nose and sniffed.
  Shit.
It hissed and moved slowly. I couldn't tell if it could smell me or not, but it didn't seem to know I was there. The problem was that it was too close to the front door. I couldn't make a run for it. Then my nightmare got worse. A second hound walked in through the door, its big leathery feet crunching glass beneath them as its claws clicked on the tiled floor.
  I checked my rifle. The safety was off. I heal my breath and waited.
  Both hounds looked like they were in rough shape. Their bodies were thin and their black, leathery flesh was riddled with scars. Recent ones too. They almost looked like they had been caused by other hounds with their big, talon like claws.
  The first hound disappeared down the aisle while the second one seemed content to stand near the door. A box of candy had caught its attention and it dropped its head into the box. When it came back up it had several packages of peanut butter cups in its mouth and was chewing them up, wrapper and all.
   To my left I could hear the other hound. It was now two aisles over and moving around. It must have bumped into something because I could hear boxes and spray cans tumbling to the floor. It shrieked and hissed, which caused the other hound to drop the second mouthful of candy and head to its partner's aid.
  I took the chance. When it headed down the aisle way and disappeared from sigh I made my way toward the door. Halfway there I heard a hiss. My body froze and I looked to my left. The hound was looking right at me, its jaws wide open, teeth showing like an evil grin. Hot drool dripped to the floor. The second hound came from the next aisle over and stepped out in front of me. Both hissed and inched closer.
  This was it. I was dead. Trent would be now too, since he was counting on me. Part of me wanted to cry, but strangely enough, another part of me accepted it. If I died here then my troubles would be over.
  The hound in front of me leaped and I closed my eyes. I heard a shriek and something hit the floor hard. When I opened my eyes I saw that both hounds were now entangled in a fight over me. One was biting the other on the throat and blood oozed from the dying creatures throat. Realizing it had a bigger meal now, the second hound turned to look at me, then turned back and tore a chunk of flesh from its dying comrade. The injured hound shrieked and wiggled, but was silenced by the victorious hound ripping out its throat completely.
  I took off running and bolted out the front door, only to be met with the barrels of nearly a dozen rifles.
  "Drop your weapons now!" Screamed the man in military fatigues.