Vanish (10 page)

The creature didn’t appear to have any clothing, nor did it seem to need any. There was no face, no genitals, no distinguishing marks of any kind. Its gray skin was thick and leathery. Only shallow indentations appeared where its eyes and mouth should have been.

Mitch brought his gun up. His hands shook.

Conner’s voice trembled as well. “We… we don’t mean any harm. We just want to try to know what you want—”

Mitch saw a gray blur, and the next thing he knew, the creature had lunged forward in one fluid movement and clutched Conner’s wrist. Several multijointed fingers—like large spider legs—wrapped around his flesh. Mitch cried out and tumbled backward to the grass. His limbs went numb, as if he’d been dunked in ice water.

Conner’s face was frozen in a mask of terror, eyes round, teeth clenched.

The creature drew Conner’s arm into the shade and leaned its head forward. Two dark slits suddenly appeared where its eyes should have been, as if invisible razors were slicing into its gray skin. Then the slits peeled open to reveal white eyes. Cold, soulless, and empty.

Fear uncurled in Mitch’s abdomen like a giant snake uncoiling. It paralyzed him. He watched the creature pull Conner into the shadow, but he couldn’t move. He tried to close his eyes or will his limbs to move.…

From the direction of the house, he saw a flash of movement. The dark-haired boy dove for Conner, folded his arms across his waist, and threw his weight backward.

At that moment, Mitch found his strength again. He brought the gun up, took aim at the creature’s head, and pulled the trigger.

HELEN MADE HER WAY to the Edens and headed north. Why north, she couldn’t say. Somehow it just felt right. As if the answer to this nightmare was in that direction. She reached into her overnight bag and felt the gun she had taken from under the cash register. She didn’t know much about handguns, but she knew how to use one. Even though guns appeared useless against the creatures, it still gave her some comfort to know she had one.

Beside her, Devon slouched back in his seat, staring out the window.

“You said you saw the storm last night too?”

Devon nodded.

“What do you remember about it?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. It was just a weird-looking storm.”

“Where were you when you saw it? Do you remember the time?”

“We were in Terrell’s ride. I don’t remember what time. Nine thirty maybe.”

“Did you see anything inside it?”

Devon shook his head. “Naw. Just lights. Didn’t look like lightning, though. But we never got a good look. Then the next thing I remember was waking up this morning. The sun was up, and I felt like I had a hangover.”

Helen tapped the steering wheel. “Was it just you and Terrell in the car?”

“Yeah. We drove around awhile. Everything was like a ghost town. We thought it was fun at first, but then we knew something was wrong. We drove around all of downtown. Then we saw one of those things in an alley. We just thought it might be someone who knew what was going on. So we went after it.”

“Did you get a good look at it?”

Devon frowned. “No. We went down this alley but we couldn’t find it. We could hear them whispering, though. Talking to each other.”

“Then what happened?”

“Then we saw them in doorways and windows. They were all over.”

“Did they attack you?”

Devon shook his head. “We didn’t stick around. We got back in the car and took off. But everywhere we went, we kept seeing them, hiding out. Watching us. And whispering. Then we heard you honking your horn and screaming down on Michigan. We followed you to that store.”

He rubbed his neck and winced.

Helen could see dark blotches, like bruises, on his skin. “Looks like you’re bruised.”

Devon flipped the visor down and peered at his neck in the mirror. He touched one of the bruises and winced again. “Feels like it’s burned or something. That’s just what Terrell had!”

“That’s where that thing grabbed you.” Helen looked closer. The marks were long and uneven, encircling his neck. As if made by the creature’s fingers. “They weren’t there a few minutes ago, were they?”

Devon was still staring in the mirror. “I don’t know.” He winced again.

Helen swerved the Tahoe down the next exit.

Devon tumbled in his seat. “What’re you doing?”

“It’s probably some reaction to contact with these things. Some kind of chemical or even a virus.”

“Virus?” Devon’s eyes widened. “Wh—what do you mean,
virus
?”

Helen shook her head and kept her eyes on the road. “I don’t know, but I think we should clean it off. Get some antiseptic or something.”

“You don’t think it’s some kind of flesh-eating thing, do you?”

“I don’t know what it is, but I think we should clean it with something, just to be sure.”

She pulled into a drugstore. “Come on.”

They searched the shelves and gathered containers of alcohol, hydrogen peroxide, and antibacterial ointments. Helen also grabbed several rolls of gauze and other supplies she thought they might need.

She rubbed the discolorations with peroxide first. It foamed up a little and Devon complained that it stung. Then she squeezed some antibacterial ointment on his skin and wrapped the gauze around his neck.

“Let’s leave it there for a while and see if it does anything,” she said. Then she spotted a snack aisle. “Have you eaten anything today?”

“Nope.”

They went through the aisle, gathering candy bars, chips, and salted nuts. Helen also found boxes of bottled water in the stock room. She made a few trips and loaded up the back of her Tahoe.

Devon opened a bag of corn chips and stuffed a handful in his mouth. He made a face. “They taste kind of stale.”

“They’re probably just old,” Helen said as they pulled back onto the highway. She peered into the distance and frowned. Far off, a purple ribbon of clouds clung to the horizon. “Looks like a storm front moving in.”

Devon grunted. “Hopefully not with another one of their ships inside.”

CONNER STOOD IN THE breakfast nook of his old house. Sunlight poured in through the bay windows and bathed the ceramic-tiled floor in a warm glow.

How had he gotten back here? He had been in his condo. He thought he had gone back to his condo. But now…

Something moved behind him. Footsteps scampered across the floor. Bare feet slapped on tile.

Conner spun around and glimpsed a small shape darting across the kitchen, down the front hall. His heart pounded.

Not again.

“Matthew?”

He rushed to the hallway. It was empty. Footsteps thumped up the stairs. A voice giggled. He recognized that laughter. Mischievous and carefree. His chest ached. It felt like an eternity since he had last heard it. And he now realized how badly he missed it.

Conner shook his head. His eyes clouded with tears. “Please, don’t do this to me.”

He followed the sounds to the stairs. Footsteps pattered from room to room. A soft giggle echoed in the hallway.

Conner climbed the stairs. “Matty!”

The last door on the left slammed shut. It was Matthew’s old room. Marta had turned it into a sewing room or something. Through the crack at the floor, Conner saw a shadow move.

He took a step toward the door but felt something pulling him backward, as if he were moving against a strong current. He needed to open that door.…

Somewhere in the distance, thunder echoed. A deep pounding.

Boom! Boom!

“No!” He strained against the force. His eyes stung with tears. “Please, just let me see him once more.”

Boom! Boom!

He lunged forward one last time, but the force pulling him back was too strong. The doorway receded from him. The hallway seemed to stretch farther and farther. He felt his feet slip and he tumbled backward, down the stairs.…

Conner opened his eyes and found himself lying facedown on the grass, gasping for breath. The distant pounding he had heard was now clear and nearby.

The crack of a gunshot exploded in his ears and died away.

Conner struggled to his hands and knees and looked around. The dark-haired boy lay in the grass beside him, eyes closed, chest heaving. To the other side, Mitch was also sprawled out on the grass, holding the gun in both hands. Smoke twirled up from the end of the barrel.

“What happened?” Conner’s head spun.

Mitch looked at him, wide-eyed. “It… it grabbed you.”

Then Conner remembered. They had tried to make contact with one of the creatures. Tried to communicate. He turned and peered into the trees. No sign of it anywhere.

“Where is it? Where’d it go?”

Mitch’s complexion was white. He shook his head. “I—I don’t know. It just disappeared!”

“What do you mean,
disappeared
?”

Mitch turned to Conner. His expression grew dark. “I mean it vanished! It let go of you, turned around, and
disappeared
into the trees. I shot the thing in the head four times and it didn’t have any effect.”

Conner frowned. “Why did it let go?”

Mitch nodded to the boy. “He pulled you back into the sunlight. I think we were right about that. I don’t think they like the light.”

Conner helped the boy to his feet. “Thank you.”

The boy narrowed his eyes and nodded.

They went back inside. Conner sat down at the table and rubbed his head.

“I had another hallucination. It was so real. I was back at my house and my son was there again.”

Conner winced. His wrist stung. His skin looked like it was starting to bruise where the creature had touched him.

Mitch frowned. “That’s where it grabbed you.”

Conner examined the marks. Long, parallel bands wrapped around his entire wrist. “Maybe that’s how they communicate.”

“What?”

Conner looked up. “I think we can assume these things have been responsible for our hallucinations. Maybe they’re trying to communicate with us. By using images from our memories.”

Mitch shook his head. “It didn’t look like it was trying to talk to you. When it grabbed you, I saw its eyes. I don’t know. It didn’t look very friendly.”

“Look, we’re most likely talking about a completely alien life-form here. We can’t jump to conclusions about their intentions.…”

Mitch snorted. “Conclusions? Dude,
everybody’s disappeared
! What kind of conclusion should we jump to?”

“I’m just saying we don’t know anything about them. How do we know what their intentions are?”

“I don’t know about you—” Mitch leaned back and folded his arms—“but I’d rather err on the side of caution.”

Conner rubbed his temples and tried to clear his head. Everything that had happened over the last few hours was too much to process. He kept hoping it was all just a bad dream. Rachel and Marta were both gone, the only two people he cared about in the world, and now he wondered if he would ever see them again.

And then there were his seizures and hallucinations. Maybe they were related or connected somehow. Still, Mitch had not experienced any convulsions or physical pain during his hallucination. Maybe it was something specific to Conner. Or his memories of Matthew.

But why? Why would they be showing him visions of his son?

Conner looked up suddenly. “Matthew! I was thinking about him right before the storm came. I was looking at his picture! Maybe they were able to detect that somehow.”

“What are you talking about?”

“These hallucinations,” Conner persisted. “Maybe I’m having visions of my son because I had just been thinking about him when the storm came last night. What about you? Were you thinking about your mother at all last night? You said she died when you were a kid? Was that a traumatic—?”

“No,” Mitch growled. “I wasn’t thinking about her. I hadn’t thought about her for years until…”

“What?” Conner pressed him. “Until what?”

Mitch turned away. “My dad called me last night,” he said after a moment. “I hadn’t talked to him in years. We had a fight when I was eighteen, and I left home.”

“What did you fight about?”

“Everything.” Mitch rolled his eyes. “What does it matter?”

“Did it have anything to do with your mother?”

Mitch’s jaw tightened. He didn’t respond.

But Conner went on. He was sure he was on to something. “Maybe the phone call evoked some memory of your mother on a subconscious level.…”

“So what?”

“So maybe that’s how they’re trying to communicate. Maybe they’re able to scan our memories and—”

“You’re saying they can read our minds now?”

Conner paused at the absurdity of the thought. But was it really so absurd? “Why not? Maybe they’re able to detect brain waves. It’s not out of the realm of possibility. Maybe they’re just replaying them back to us to get our attention.”

Mitch got up and peered out the patio doors. “I still don’t trust them.”

“Maybe,” Conner said. “I agree we should proceed with caution.”

Mitch turned around. “So then, what do we do now?”

Conner thought for a moment. Their first priority should be to try to locate others. He made a mental note not to call them
survivors
. That would imply everyone else was dead. And he wasn’t ready to accept that yet. There was no evidence of mass destruction or death. That was what was so odd about the whole experience. Other than these creatures, the rest of the world seemed completely untouched.

“I think we should stick to your plan,” he said at last. “We need to try to find anyone else that may still be around.”

Conner went to his room to change and throw a few items into an overnight bag. He had no idea how long he’d be gone or when he’d be back. He glanced around the room, running through a mental list of anything he might need.

Then he went into the bathroom and examined his wrist. The purple bruises had grown more distinct and tender. His discolored skin, however, was oddly cool to the touch. He frowned. He had made contact with an extraterrestrial life-form. How could he possibly know what kind of effect it would have on his own physiology? He washed his wrist several times and wrapped it with an Ace bandage. Then he gathered a few first-aid items as well.