World in Catastrophe

Chapter 1

Catastrophe. Weird word really. Cat. Astro. Phe. The definition is easy. A sudden and widespread disaster.

I awoke to a blood-curdling scream seeping through the walls of my house. Jolted into an upward position, I strained my ears, listening for clues of what was going on. As I listen, I hear whoosh than a boom that was loud enough to rattle my house. Curious, I looked out the window to find my backyard in flames. In the distance I see people dressed in black, guns ready at their hands.

Pulling back from the window, I shake my head, trying to shake the image from my head. Maybe this was a dream? At that thought I reached down and pinched my skin, resulting in nothing but a red patch of skin. Realizing this wasn't a dream, I jumped into action. By action, I mean turning on the T.V. Flipping the Channels until I found the local news, I sat down on the edge of my bed.

The news reporter that stood there clutching a microphone had wild red hair sticking every which way, and alert blue eyes with the reflection of red fire. "Here in Ann Arbor, Michigan, we are getting reports of multiple fires followed by strange armed men in black. Other reports from New York City, Hollywood, Cincinnati, and other large city's are experiencing the same issue. No reports on who these people are or what they are doing, but try to lay low. Any place that is good for hiding, find and stay there."

Another rattling boom shook the house, jolting my attention from the T.V. I jumped off my bed, sprinting out my door and into the kitchen where I stopped dead in my tracks.

Two armed men in black were in conversation with my parents. "Where is your son?" they ordered.

"He moved out weeks ago." my mother responded.

One of the armed men turned to the other saying, "search the house, don't stop until you find him." The other armed man murmured a response and took off down the hall. Realizing he was heading my way, I ducked into the closest room, sprinting to the closet.

Whipping open the door of the closet, I heard footsteps outside the hallway, and then jumping inside covering myself with clothes and old stuffed animals.

The door to the closet swung open and the armed man searched the closet. I didn't dare move a muscle, let alone breathe. A look of defeat crept across the mans face as he shut the closet door. That was close. As the relief flooded over me, so did the questions. What was going on? Why were these people trying to find me? Were my parents okay?

I don't know how long I waited in that closet. Probably a couple hours, until the door swung open again, revealing my mother.

"Alex?" she whispered, "It's okay to come out now."

Shifting under the pile of stuffed animals and clothes, I found my way out and onto my feet. "What's going on mom? Why were they looking for me?"

My mother looked me in the eye with tears threatening to fall, "They want you because your different. They won't stop until they have you."

"What?" my voice at a whisper, "Mom, how am I different? Who are they?"

"I'll explain it all to you later, but right now, come with me."