Intruders: The Invasion: A Post-Apocalyptic, Alien Invasion Thriller (Book 1) (7 page)

There were no sounds out here. It was deathly silent. The
snow lifted in the wind and swirled in little tornados over the white blanketed
fields. A crow flew down from a tree and hopped around on the road a few yards
away from us. It cocked its head from side to side, black eyes studying me
curiously. The thing gave me the willies. There were plenty of dead things for
it to eat, just south of here.

Let’s make this quick
. I squatted
on the side of the road and emptied my painfully full bladder, letting out a
relieved sigh as Hank did his business a few feet away from me. He didn’t waste
any time getting back to the truck, pacing around in front of it like he was
afraid someone or something was out there, and would get us.

Maybe he knew something I didn’t.

As I pulled up my pants, it hit me all at once.

I’d been so distracted by the dead and the horror of how
brutal the living could be to each other, that I’d forgotten about the threat
just on the horizon, just a couple of hours away.

There were fields surrounding us, and beyond those were
woods.

Just the kind of place the reptiles loved to make their new
home.

And the sun was steadily sinking in the sky.

* * *

I drove a little further, looking for a place that Hank and
I could hide out. Part of me regretted leaving the safety of the Doriga’s
house, but then, when darkness fell, it may not be safe at all. There weren’t
any houses out here, so the reptiles may not have burrowed down into the ground
this far out of the city.

But then, they may have.

I really had no intention of finding out.

My mind raced. If we didn’t find a place to hide out, we’d
have to spend the night in the Pilot. It was cold, and running the truck for
heat would burn out the gas pretty quick. We needed to find shelter.

The Pilot was quiet as it moved along the snow caked country
road. I kept the speed down to thirty miles an hour, sweeping both sides of the
field for houses. There had to be farms out here.

We passed a dilapidated, abandoned shack, the ceiling of
which had caved mostly in. I ditched any idea of spending the night there.
Having the shack fall in on us wouldn’t help us. If we survived, being trapped
under broken debris and waiting for something to eat us was not a happy
thought.

After another few miles my search became more frantic. The
light had become murky. Long shadows steadily stretched from the woods over the
fields toward us. I’d never noticed how fast darkness gathered in the
wintertime before.

Hank growled, then gave a low bark.

I looked at him in the rearview. He was watching an area
beyond the left window.

Following his gaze, I saw what he was growling at and my
blood froze in my veins.

There was movement, out near a copse of trees not far off
the road.

Something was watching us.

I hit the lock button and felt a small measure of comfort
when all of the locks clicked, but that feeling didn’t last long.

In the gloom I saw two reptilian shapes moving low to the
ground, dome-like heads moving up and down as if sniffing the air. Either they
smelled my piss or they smelled me. Maybe both.

I smell your blood, Jessica had said.

Before I could even turn the key, something thumped against
the passenger window.

My heart leapt into my throat as I jumped, then
instinctively ducked down, looking up for the source of the impact.

I saw long claws scratching at the glass as the thing
climbed on top of the Pilot. I looked up. The moon roof was closed, the
reptilian banging at it with the force of hunger behind it. Dents began forming
in the panel.

Two other reptilians jumped at the truck. One climbed onto
the hood of the car and stared in at me. Its mouth yawned opened in an
unearthly howl and saliva dripped over the rows of jagged teeth. The eyes were
a strange grey, and it snapped its teeth at the windshield, trying to bite
through it.

I froze, paralyzed, as the thing knocked its head at the
windshield.

When that didn’t work, it brought one arm back, its scaled
chest lifting with the effort, and smashed its arm down onto the glass.

Hank barked wildly, then jumped into the passenger seat and
sniffed the keys hanging from the ignition.

It broke my paralysis and I turned the key. The Pilot
obeyed, starting easily. But there were two reptiles on the roof and one on the
hood, and I didn’t think we’d make it far before one of them burst through. The
moonroof was giving, and the two reptiles now peered in at me through the small
opening, strange grey eyes looking right into mine. Then, sniffing at the ever
widening crack.

I jammed my foot on the gas pedal, and the reptile on the
hood was thrown off. It scrambled through the air, falling on its haunches.
Jumping up, it ran at the Pilot and jumped easily back on, skittering up the
hood, its claws making little scratching sounds as it climbed toward the
windshield.

My mind was blank with terror as I kept my foot jammed down
on the gas. Hank barked madly at the moon roof, standing on the passenger seat
with his paws on the back of the seat. His scare tactics weren’t working.

Neither was my crazy driving.

These things were not easy to shake.

“Hang on, Hank!” I slammed the brake, and all three reptiles
slid off the truck.

Hank was thrown from the seat and banged into the back of
mine.

I hit the gas and ran over the reptilian that had been on
the hood. One scaled arm thumped on the hood when I turned the wheel and the
Pilot’s tires rolled over it with a loud crunch.

I laughed madly, looking back at it in the rear view. “You
made the ugliest hood ornament ever, asshole!”

The other two reptiles skittered over to it. Its head had
been crushed under the truck wheels. They sniffed it, heads tilting this way
and that, then came bounding after me.

I didn’t think I’d be so lucky again, but I had no choice.
There was no other way to kill them without getting myself and Hank killed.

Killing us both in a firey truck accident wasn’t ideal, but
preferable to the alternative.

I slowed, watching as the reptilians bounded up the back of
the Pilot, shuddering as I got a close look at their undersides, which were
covered in scales. I’d never been a fan of snakes, and these things were like
living nightmares.

“Brace yourself, Hank.” Hank sat on the floor, where he’d
stayed since being thrown from the back seat.

Fear clutched my belly as I hit the gas.

The two reptiles slid backwards from the Pilot’s roof and
landed on the road behind me.

Quickly, I put the Pilot in reverse and stomped the gas,
driving over both of them.

Their bones snapped and crunched beneath the tires.

It was music to my ears.

I drove further backward, then stopped and put the truck in
drive.

Both reptiles were still alive, trying to crawl toward the
Pilot; their crushed limbs moving uselessly.

I had to give them points for determination and effort.

Stomping the gas, the pilot gained momentum and drove over
the remaining two.

I whooped like a lunatic, cackling as I raced down the road.

The pilot’s wheels slid and the truck skidded sideways, and
the last thing I was aware of before hitting my head on the steering wheel was
spinning into the field toward the snowy woods which looked as pretty as a Christmas
card.

* * *

I awoke to Hank licking my face and barking. When I opened
my eyes, it was full dark outside, and I was looking at the sky, hanging upside
down, caught by the seatbelt.

“Oh, shit.” My head hurt, and blood had leaked into one of
my eyes. I was able to move my arms, and wiped a hand over the eye. It came
back slippery, and slightly congealed. It looked like the bleeding had stopped.

It was dark in the truck, and the engine was dead. Other
than Hank’s quiet whimpering, there was no sound.

My head throbbed fiercely, and I was sure that I had a fair
sized goose egg at the very least, a concussion possibly. I didn’t want to
waste any more time assessing my injuries.

Hank seemed fine. He might be a little banged up, but he was
hopping around the front of the car frantically.

His way of telling me to move my ass. We needed to get out
of there.

“Are there any more of those things out there, Hank?” I
whispered to him.

As if he understood me, he looked out the cracked
windshield. He whimpered as he looked up at my window, which was now above us.

What the hell were we going to do? The truck was toast. How
far would we get before more of those things came after us? It wasn’t dawn yet,
and they’d hear our footsteps in the snow.

“We need to wait until daylight, Hank.”

He licked my face.

I found the button to disengage the seatbelt and it let go,
dropping me downward.

The movement sent an unpleasant jab through my head.

How did those things not hear the car accident?

The simple answer was that they had. I didn’t think I’d been
out for more than a few minutes. They were likely right outside the window,
investigating.

Barely whispering, I said, “Hank, be quiet. Don’t bark.
Shhhh.”

He lay down next to me, watching me with scared eyes which
flicked toward the window every second or so.

I closed my eyes and strained my ears to hear if there were
any sounds near the car.

There
. I heard a shifting,
scuttling sound in the snow right outside, to the left of the truck.

Hank lifted his head.

“Ssssshhhhh.” I whispered lightly, barely making any sound.
Hardly touching him at all, I patted his back, barely moving, to let him know
to be still and quiet.

But he couldn’t stop. The whimpering was hardly audible,
almost silent, but it was there, way back in his throat.

I prayed that the things couldn’t hear him.

They sniffed at the driver’s window, then moved to the
cracked windshield, making sniffing sounds at the cracks.

I pressed as far back against the Pilot’s roof as I could
move, keeping my face out of the moonlight.

They climbed all over the Pilot, scratching and sniffing.

I held my breath, keeping my fingers in Hank’s fur. He
sensed what I was feeling, or what I was thinking. Whatever it was, he got it,
and the almost silent whimpering stopped.

We were both as silent as the dead.

I was sure his heart was slamming as hard as mine was, but
both of us hardly breathed.

The reptilians continued sniffing and scratching. Through my
fear, I was getting the distinct impression that their vision wasn’t all that
good. It seemed that they relied heavily on smell, sound and vibrations.

Hank and I remained still and silent, and we waited.

Finally, they moved away, scuttling off the pilot and
skittering away in the snow.

We listened to their strange scratching sounds fade.

Then we stayed still and quiet for a while longer.

And then dawn seeped into the sky.

* * *

I was able to open the driver’s side door, and I crawled out
onto the snow. I thanked my lucky stars that I’d raided Luka’s closet for the
jacket and boots. There were warm ski gloves in her pockets, and as I pushed
myself painfully to my feet, I dug them out and put them on. I hadn’t needed
them in the warmth of the Pilot before I crashed it, but now I did.

Hank followed me out, and we trudged through the snowy field
and made our way back to the country road. He seemed no worse for the wear, and
I thanked God for that. If he were hurt, I’d have to leave him. He was too
heavy for me to even dream of carrying. And truthfully, I didn’t think I could
leave him. We’d both die in the cold.

Looking up and down the road, I guessed that this had not
been a well travelled road before the invasion, so I figured our chances of a
car passing us were slim to none.

This could either be good or bad, depending on the type of
people who might pass by. Judging from the way some people were acting in the
midst of the chaos, I wasn’t inclined to easily trust anyone anymore. I didn’t
think Hank was, either.

A wave of helplessness washed over me and I took a
shuddering breath. It seemed an impossible thing, to survive the day again. I
was cold, and exhausted, and my entire body ached.

But I had two choices: give up or move on. I wanted to stay
alive.

Survival was the name of the game, by any means. This was a
war, and there were casualties.

I’d do whatever was needed to keep Hank and I safe.

We continued on the silent road. He stayed close beside me,
his head next to my arm. I could easily reach up and pat his head at any time,
which I did every few minutes. Hank was all I had left in the world.

After a while walking, we stopped and I dug out a water
bottle, pouring some water into a little plastic bowl I’d brought for him. We
both drank a lot. The cold and the fear, the spikes of adrenaline, had leached
us both of fluids.

I poured some dry dog food onto my glove and let him eat a
few handfuls.

Then I dug out a banana I’d taken from the kitchen cupboards
at the Doriga house. I ate that quickly, gripped the hammer in my gloved hand,
and we moved on.

My eyes scanned the sides of the road, looking for any sign
of a cabin or house where we could hole up for a while.

Snow shrouded the fields, and the tops of wheat poked
through the surface, shivering in the wind.

I wondered how many underground tunnels lay beneath the
snow, so close to where we walked.

Don’t think about it. Keep looking for
shelter.

Out here in the middle of nowhere, the pickings were slim.

I was cold and the wind wasn’t kind, every so often tossing
snow into my face and eyes. Hank dipped his head down and shook it, trying to
rid his eyes and nose of snow. I worried about him. How long before dogs
suffered damage to their paws out in the cold?

But we kept moving.

Finally, after a couple of hours of walking, I spotted a
cottage set way back, up against the woods. A car sat in the driveway. The
front door to the house was left open. That meant only one thing.

The reptiles had been here.

“Come on, Hank. We’ll be safe here for a little while.” My
face was so numb with the cold that I could barely talk.

The air smelled of wood smoke. I hoped for a wood stove.

We walked through the snow, up to my knees and a fair way up
Hank’s legs. He did a kind of hop over the snow. Like me, his spirits seemed to
be bolstered by the sight of the cabin, and the fact that we were heading
toward it.

The garage door was open, housing a white pick-up truck, a
beater, to be sure, but it might still run. It was parked haphazardly, like the
person parking it had been drunk.

Or scared out of their mind and near hysterical.

Wind had driven snow in through the open door, but the cabin
felt much warmer than it was outside. That meant there was still heat. Hank and
I went cautiously in, and I shut the door behind us. The lights in the kitchen
and living room were on. There didn’t seem to be anyone home, but I needed to
make sure.

I crept from room to room, Hank beside me. His ears were
raised, listening for movement. His nostrils flared and he sniffed at the air.
He let out a growl.

Someone or something was in the cabin.

I lifted the hammer, and we warily moved on.

The first bedroom was off the living room, and was empty. I
searched under the bed. Nothing.

Slowly and quietly, we made our way to the next bedroom,
which was off this one. The cabin wasn’t that big, which would make searching
it easier. However, it would also mean less hiding spots if we needed to hide.

Hank’s hackles rose, and his growling grew louder.

It was daytime, so whatever was in there wasn’t a reptilian.

“Hello?” I tried. A human might talk back. A deadie would
come shuffling toward me.

And that’s what happened.

The sound of feet sliding along the floor toward us made a
chill shiver up my spine. But at least it wasn’t a reptile. As long as I knew
there was a deadie, I could deal with it. It’s when you didn’t hear them
sneaking up on you that you were screwed.

“Here, deadie, deadie, deadie, deadie,” I sang out, lifting
the hammer higher. I stepped a foot into the doorway and saw him.

He had been about thirty when he’d died. It looked like he’d
shot himself, but he had apparently missed his brain and the lower half of his
jaw was gone. He was coming after me, but there would be no teeth to chew me
with, if he caught me.