*IN THE PROCESS OF WRITING*
I TOM
Tom Mason missed his old life. A life free of the aliens. It only took him a moment to remember his three boys coming home from school and his lovely wife, Rebecca, cooking pot roast in the kitchen. Her loose ginger hair falling over her shoulders in a thick glossy sheet of curls. His youngest, Matt, laughing as the eldest, Hal, was tickling him on the couch. His second eldest, Ben, would momentarily look up from his book to watch them with the slightest of a smile. But he would quickly push up his glasses and become once more lost to the world. But all of that was in the past. His wife was dead. Killed when the aliens landed on earth and turned Tom’s world upside down in flaming chaos. And his second eldest son, Ben, was missing. Now he was fighting for his life, and the life of his family.
Tom was running as fast as he could. His calves were burning and it felt like his lungs were about to burst. Every once in a while he would have to duck to avoid blasts coming from the giant metal humanoid beings behind him. Mechs. They were like giant robots. They stood on two feet, had long legs and an arched back that flowed right into their giant dome shaped heads. They stood about thirty feet high and made and awful tinny growling type groan. But that wasn’t the worst part. Instead of arms, the giant heaps of metal had two deadly cannons. A single shot would kill an entire group of people. And these Mechs behind Tom seemed pretty bent on killing him. Not to mention the skitters.
The skitters-as people started calling them- were giant, green, insect like beings. They had two arms sprouting from their almost human torso, and six legs that resembled spider legs. Their heads were curved to a point in the back and they had two, ugly, large fangs protruded from their mouths. Their beady eyes almost seemed intelligent but they were nasty killing machines. It was hard to out run them but Tom had a good head start. He and one other person had managed to find food and they were trying to carry it back to the rest of the group of survivors. Not many people had survived the invasion and the ones that had, were quickly starving. Just today, he had seen a woman and child with hollow faces, sharp cheek bones, thinning frail bodies, and glinting eyes that made you feel uneasy. They were hungry and scared. That much you could tell. He had to get food to these starving families. He had to get food to his sons.
The skitters behind him were getting dangerously close. The other survivor with him, Greg, was panting and his pace was slowing.
“Leave it. Leave the food.” Tom wheezed. He was not willing to risk their lives for a few cans of food that would not last them more than a day.
“Not a chance” he replied. “My daughter, she needs this food.”
“She needs a father! Leave it.” insisted Tom. The skitters were right on their heels now. “Trust me, Greg. The food is no good to her if we aren’t alive to get it to her. You think I don’t want to feed my sons? Because I do. But I know that it’s much more important for me to stay alive right now.”
“I’m not going to lit Emily starve! I would rather die.”
“And that’s exactly what’s going to happen if you don’t just leave it!” yelled Tom.
