Name’s Adam Wilson. Well, it was, back when I was a bartender. Now its Private this, Private that. They tell me the invasion was November 3rd. From how you see it in the movies, you would think the date would be burned into my mind; I was too busy just trying to stay alive to care all that much about calendars and schedules. I did notice Gideon wasn't around, which was odd for a Saturday, but I was far too busy to think much of it.
Changing a keg over - odd, to think that's the action that saved my life. Had I been upstairs when they hit, I wouldn’t have survived that initial onslaught. I heard some incredible crashing noises, and sounds that weren't quite gunfire. More like popping, like that sizzle you hear when you drop a slab of bacon on a hot grill. Then the screams, and finally, the sobbing and moans.
When I finally reached the bar room, the stench of cooked meat nearly overwhelmed me. I grabbed my faithful Louisville slugger and stepped around the bar. I thought I had seen some badly messed up people in fights over the years, but nothing could have prepared me for the charnel house I witnessed when I surveyed the room. It had a surreal feel to it. Everyone was either burned to a crisp, or ripped completely apart. There were no wounded, only dead. I heard some cries that made me look out the door. It was then I saw the scene around me, and I knew that life on earth would never be the same again.
Looking out into the street, there were people running, screaming, or just plain cowering. Some were wounded, trying to drag themselves to whatever shelter they thought would be safe. What froze my blood though were the monsters. Sure, now, I know they were called the Bane. But then? I thought I was losing my mind. “Mom always said there were no monsters. No real ones. But there are.”
These things are wandering around, slaughtering my fellow humans indiscriminately, when I see some sort of high tech helicopter. My first thought was, Thank God, help is here! Then I noticed an odd look about it. It took second to register, but I realized it had no blades; it was just sort of floating. This strange red beam came from under it, and more of those monsters popped out of thin air in the shimmering light. I didn’t need any more cues. I darted back into the bar, closing the door quietly.
Suddenly, I was glad I had not only listened to Gideon on one of his drunken rants, but I was happy he hadn't been in the bar that night. He used to get sloppy drunk, and talk about his bomb shelter behind his house, and how “one day, when the big one comes, you will all be sorry!!” I just wonder if he really anticipated the big one would be bug-eyed monsters. Not wanting to be a guest who was a burden, I knew I had to bring something. I ran back down to the basement, grabbed a fresh keg Guinness, his favorite, and tossed it over a shoulder. My slugger in the other hand, I peeked out the door, saw it was clear, and made a shuffling dash for my car.
I remember going to his house and seeing smoldering rubble only. I was saying a silent prayer that he was safe when I saw the hatch to his shelter looked unscathed. After leaving me outside to pound on the door for 5 minutes, he finally called out "go away". Now, knowing he was actually alive and in there, I renewed my hammering with a fervor, and yelled back it was Adam. He said go away again, then I held up the keg to the peephole. Many clicking of locks later, I was inside safely.
For the first night, we just cowered there in that bunker, and drank ourselves silly. Come morning, the nightmare was still a sobering reality. It took a few days, but I managed to work up the courage to open the hatch. Or was it hunger? Either way, the result was the same. Seeing nothing moving, I told Gideon I was going to go look around for food. Maslow would be proud; it was that simple need that brought me here to Foreas. Skulking through the rubble that was my town just a couple of days ago, I saw nothing worth a second glance. Then, like a beacon, one of those canvas covered army trucks stood out, pristine amongst the soot and wreckage. Seeing no one around, I quickly snuck up to the back, and saw it was literally overflowing with bottled water, food rations, blankets, you name it! Having been a few days without anything but bar pretzels to eat, I wasn’t really in control of my actions. Before I knew it, I was up in there among the boxes, gorging myself. I didn’t even hear the soldiers return. The first thing I noticed was the slam of the driver’s door, then we were off at breakneck speed. We drove so long I dozed off. I woke up with someone in uniform standing over me, chuckling that I was going to earn that meal, and telling me I was “in the army now” with an odd laugh. The next 24 hours were a blur; I have no idea where I am now other than hearing someone call it Foreas. I was told I’m “a sensitive”, given a pistol and some clips, and pushed into a fight. At least we get fed, and it certainly is satisfying to put a few rounds into those monsters I saw do those horrific things. I don’t know for sure though, but I would swear this place isn’t even Earth. Wherever he is, I hope Gideon is doing better then me.
Author: V. Seese
New Jersey, USA
Signature Character Contest US Winner