February 29

Chapter 8

I stared intently at the TV screen, watching as Anderson Cooper explained the situation in most of the country. Behind him, a picture of the sun, probably taken by a cellphone from its bad quality, showed the giant dot. Other members of the newscast were in separate Skype windows, their eyebrows bunched in concern. There were other pictures too. Kids running amok, calling for their parents. Parents running amok, calling for their kids. People praying for forgiveness from God. People going ballistic and running around, asking for help, what was going on, was it the end of the world and whatnot. Anderson Cooper placed his hand on a piece of paper, a document of something. His piercing blue eyes showed the first sign of concern I'd ever seen a newscast man show.

"People are really going crazy," Dean whispered next to me. "What do you think will happen?"

"I don't know," I answered truthfully. I gently brushed the bite wound on my leg, still sore but getting better. "I guess I can't say I expected anything else. When something weird happens to the world, people don't sit at home and wait it out. They panic."

"If only we could calm them down," Dean said in his sarcastic voice. He rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger, apparently thinking. "What I'm wondering," he started, "is where all these people have been going. Kids don't just disappear. Maybe something took them."

"Oh gosh, you're not still on aliens, are you?" I joked, playfully punching him on the arm. "Who would want to rob Earth? Evaporating the planet's resources is our job."

Dean shifted his eyes. "Just saying," he muttered.

Suddenly, a black figure caught the side of my eye. I jumped, ready to defend myself against another dog, but it was just the TV. There was a very blurry picture. I squinted my eyes and glanced harder. I made out the snout, the teeth, even the saliva dangling from its mouth. A dog. Anderson cooper was talking about it.

"Strange sightings of this unusual animal have also been reported," he said. "Although scientists are rushing to find out what species of dog that is, witnesses have said that it is at least five feet tall with cloudy fur."

"That's the exact same dog that attacked you," Dean said.

I didn't need reminding. As if my it sensed its maker close, my wound pricked, pulsing another pump of pain throughout my leg. I didn't reply, instead reaching for the remote and switching the TV off. Dean whined.

"What the hell was that for?" he protested.

"We need to find my mother," I said calmly, shakily standing on my feet. "Sitting down and watching CNN won't get bring her."

"Dude," Dean said. "Like, those dogs are out there. I don't want to go out and get attacked again. I'm scared that it'll take one of us."

"For the last time," I said, exasperated, "there are no aliens out there."

"I know they're not aliens," Dean said. "But I don't want to get bitten, and I don't want you getting another bite either."

"You shouldn't worry about that. If we lie low, the dogs won't come after us. All we need is a flashlight. If what you say is true, then they can't stand light. It shouldn't be that hard."

"I'm not thinking about 'should','" Dean said uncertainly. "I'm thinking of 'could.' Anything out there could happen. They might take us. You know, with everyone else."

I scowled. "And where will they take us?"

I had him. Dean didn't answer for a while. "I don't know, but I sure don't want to go there. I think we should just stay here until we have a good plan with backups on case it fails. I don't think we should leave now."