This Is War

two

I sat on the ground, leaned against my backpack, put my head on my hands, and cried. For a full ten minutes I just sobbed. Finally, I lifted my tear streaked face and looked around. Grown-ups lay around me among the stone, brick and dust. One woman was face down and a strange crying came from her. I stood, shook the dust off and walked over. Flipping her over, I discovered a young toddler dressed in a blue footsie. I lifted him up, he only weighed about twenty-something pounds and had little black stubble on the top of his head. Once he saw me, he stopped crying. I leaned over the woman to check her pulse. There was none. The baby was an orphan now. Just like me. The toddler's footsie had a name embroidered in green thread, Ky.

"Well, Ky, looks like it's just you and me." Ky's large green eyes looked out at me. His head was bleeding all along the right side of his face, streaming sickly from a gash at the corner of his forehead. I wiped the blood away and hoped it wouldn't get infected.

- - -

Nine months later. . .

The road was dark and ominous. My grimy hand squeezed Ky's tiny one tightly as we walked down the middle of it. Ky had learned to walk, or more like stumble, about three months ago, in an abandoned firetruck garage. After the attack, we had staked out in a fire station down the street from my house, I couldn't bare to go back there, not yet. Since the station was built of cement, it hadn't been affected by the fire much. The cupboards were full of cans of soup, bagels, gingerbread and bottles of water. There had been enough to keep us alive for seven months, since we rationed t very carefully, but when it ran out, we moved out and broke into houses for food. Ky's hair had grown out and was now to his ears, jet black. I found him clothes in a half collapsed Target.

Now here we were, alone, wandering aimlessly around. We hadn't seen any people or aliens for nine months, except for the occasional skitter or two on patrol or whatever they do. I've almost forgotten what my parents looked like. But Leven's and Conrad's smiles are embedded in my mind. My life consists of finding food, Harry Potter, updating my journal, and Ky. I got pretty attached him, as a brother. I probably wouldn't have the will to live except for one purpose: taking care of Ky.

Lights abruptly flooded the road in front of us. I flinched and squinted into the light, hoping it wasn't something too bad. I scooped up Ky and stood there, waiting for it to reach us. I wouldn't be able to outrun whatever it was, especially with a toddler in my arms.

Too late, I realized it was a car. It was coming rather quickly and the people driving it didn't seem to see us. I tried to move, but wasn't fast enough. My life flashed before my eyes, my last thought was to protect Ky, don't let him get hurt. A horrible screeching noise collided with my eardrums.

Then all was black.

Voices reached my ringing ears, just barely, ". . . No harness, can't be much of a danger. Doubt she was with the skitters. . ."

My eyelids felt like tombstones, but I managed to heave them up. Light and faces swam into view, sending my senses into overdrive. The scent of blood and medication filled my nostrils, and even more talking.

"She's awake! Get Dr. Glass, she's waking up."

A minute later, cool hands were holding a small paper cup up to my lips, "This is the second time Weaver's hit someone on the road. He's gotta be more careful." The woman's voice was gentle.

"Hey, are you awake? Can you hear me?"

I had a feeling the man's voice was directed to me, but I didn't feel the need to answer. Then a horrible thought struck me, "Ky! Where's Ky? Is he hurt? Do you have him? Where-"

"Calm doowwnn. Is Ky the little boy who was with you?"

I nodded feverishly.

"Oh, he's fine. A couple bruises from the accident, but you took most of the blow for him. You're a good sister."

I sat up somewhat painfully, "Not his sister. More like guardian."

Around me stood a middle aged man, a woman about the same age, a boy much older than me and a boy about the same age as Conrad was, scratch that, same age that Conrad IS. Conrad's still alive out there, I can feel it. Leven too.

"Well, you can move, Weaver didn't do too much damage." The man asked.

I ignored him, "I need answers."

They all nodded.

"Who are you people? And where did you all come from."

The older boy answered, "I'm Hal, this is my little brother, Matt. And my dad, Tom. Then my dad's girlfriend, Dr. Glass." Pointing to each person in turn.

"We are part of the 2nd Mass."