Aiden hurried toward us, his arm raised protectively over his head as bits of ceiling began to rain down. “Mom!” Abby was yelling. “What about mom?”
“Backdoor!” Cade shouted as he pointed behind us. “Head for the backdoor!”
No one tried to be cautious anymore. There was no reason to be. If the aliens could hear us over the screeching, tortuous racket echoing outside they deserved to get us. There was no way that we would ever be able to constantly elude their grasp if they were that much more advanced than us. If they were that superior to us.
Abby was tugging at me, Bret was pulling me, and I was desperately trying to elude the merchandise that had gone from being inane to hazardous and deadly. I thrust Abby at Bret before we made it to the backdoor. “Mom!” Abby was still yelling but I could barely hear her over the crashing bangs resounding throughout the store.
“I know.”
I stumbled forward as I struggled to get back to our mother, fought to keep my balance in a rapidly unraveling world. Aiden grabbed hold of my arm as a resounding crash rocked the store. We tumbled to the side and bounced off a set of rattling shelves. A silver elephant toppled off the shelf and struck Aiden in the shoulder. He winced and scurried away from the shelf as it began to rock treacherously back and forth. The shelf was massive, if it fell on us we would be trapped, pinned within this store and at the mercy of the monsters outside.
I became frozen as my terror over being trapped anywhere burst to hot, vivid life.
Aiden threw himself away from the shelf. He wrapped his arm around my waist as he dove forward. We fell to the floor in a tumbled heap; the breath was knocked out of me, my tailbone screamed in protest as we bounced away from the shelf. The shelf spilled its aged contents upon the floor as it toppled over. I was able to breathe again, but not very well.
A huge crack fissured across the ceiling, a resounding bang rocked every wall of the building. Debris began to rain down on us; plaster coated the floor, covered our clothes and stuck to our hair and skin. Hands seized hold of me and Bret hauled me to my feet as the front of the store suddenly crumpled. Wood and nails snapped as if they were no more than toothpicks.
Bret pulled me toward the open backdoor. Aiden was behind us, limping a little as we stumbled forward. Cade appeared amongst the rubble and strode purposely toward us through the collapsing store. He took hold of my other arm and hurried me forward as we fell into the muggy night air. I inhaled the fresh air greedily, struggling not to cry as I spun rapidly back around. I pulled free of Bret’s grasp and stumbled back toward the store. Peter! My mother!
Beams flashed throughout the night, illuminating the crumbling buildings around us. The awful screeching noise seemed to be moving away, but the building was continuing to crumple before us. Two by fours cracked, heavy roof beams caved like a house of cards. My heart plummeted; I fell limply to my knees as I gazed at the back wall, the only piece of the store that remained.
How could we possibly dig them out of there?
I knew the answer to that question before I even answered it. We couldn’t. We simply couldn’t.
My whole body was trembling, shaking. Broken. I was so broken. My father had died because I had failed to get out of that car, because I had failed him. Now my mother was dead because I had failed once again. I had left her in there, and she was gone.
Aiden shushed Abby as she began to weep openly, and loudly. I turned to look at my siblings and saw the answering hopelessness in Aiden's eyes. In his gaze I saw the truth. We were now orphans.
CHAPTER 13
Abby was crying soundlessly, her head bowed and her hair falling around her slender shoulders. I couldn’t comfort her, not now, that had fallen to Jenna. She had her arm around Abby’s shoulders; her head was bent over Abby as she tried to ease her sorrow. It was impossible, we all knew that. Jenna herself was struggling with the likelihood that she would never see her parents again. The only difference was that Jenna hadn't received the cruel confirmation that they were dead that we just had.
Even Aiden had shed a few tears, he’d tried to keep them hidden from us, but I'd seen them. I hadn't cried. I was fairly certain that I wouldn't cry, not now, not in front of my siblings. Someone had to stay strong, and just like with my father, it would be me. I didn’t meet Cade’s gaze, I could feel it burning into my back but I wouldn't look at him. Bret kept his arm around me, seeking to give me comfort even though I didn’t like it. He didn’t seem to understand that though, and I'd given up shrugging his arm off. What was the point?
“Why did the building collapse like that?” Abby moaned. “What caused it?”
A muscle in my cheek jumped, my jaw ached from clenching it so tightly. I didn’t know what had caused it, but it had been big, it had been brutal, and it was going to come for us. Of that much I was certain. It would continue to hunt for survivors. It would be unrelenting and ruthless in its pursuit. It apparently hadn’t known that we were in the store, but I was certain that once it got a bead on us, it wasn't going to stop in its determination to drain us dry.
I closed my eyes, my hands fisted at my sides. Whatever the aliens were doing, whatever they were intent on accomplishing, they were really beginning to piss me off!
“Bethany.” I forced my eyes open. Bret was watching me with wide eyed apprehension. “Are you ok?”
I wanted to be a better person for him, to be the person he thought I was. I wanted to be kinder, more understanding, and more faithful. I wanted to show some sort of emotion, other than fury right now, but I couldn’t. I hated to disappoint him, but I didn’t know how to be anything different. I had tried to be a better person for him for the past few months, I truly had, but it was impossible for me. I thought that if he understood me better things could be different between us, but he didn’t, and they weren’t.
In fact I was fairly certain he wouldn’t want anything to do with the person I truly was, because he was just too good to understand that person. I was a survivor, I was a fighter, and I was hard. It was the first time I admitted that fact to myself, but it was true. I'd thought that it was the death of my father that had caused me to be this way, but I was beginning to realize that I was wrong. Jenna had more than likely lost her family, yet she was comforting Abby. Bret had more than likely lost his parents and yet he was still caring and good.
Yes, I had watched my father die. Yes, I had been young and defenseless. But we were defenseless now, and yet I still sensed more humanity in them than I did in myself. Perhaps it was shock but I didn't think so. What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I be like them?