They’re Out There

“They’re out there,” he told me. “Fields and fields of them. As far as the eye can see.” I wasn’t sure what he was talking about. He pointed to the horizon, and I looked, but all I could see was the fog that had rolled in during the night. He said he was woken up by some strange noises early in the morning; I hadn’t heard anything. I had walked over to the window from the bed and stood beside him. I thought he was admiring the view, but I couldn’t see anything beyond the wall of light gray clouds. He kept standing there after he spoke to me as I walked back to the bed and reached for my glasses on the nightstand. “They’re moving closer!” he exclaimed, “Come have a look!”

I returned to the window and asked him, “What do you even see out there?” I squinted my eyes and I began to see some unclear shadows creeping through the fog. I released a small gasp as I realized that there was something out there. “I don’t know what they are, but there are hundreds of them! They keep getting closer!” he screamed as he pointed out the window again.

Slowly, I began to make out some shapes. The objects looked almost human, most of them were walking on two legs. However, many of them had a limp and others appeared to be dragging themselves across the grass. “They look…human,” I gasped. We kept staring at the creatures encroaching on our small cottage getaway. I turned to him, “What are we going to do?” All of a sudden, he seemed to jump into survival mode. He bolted across the room and pulled our luggage out of the closet and began throwing all of our clothes and belongings into the bags. I stared dumbfounded at him, unable to process what was going on yet, “What the hell are you doing?”

“We need to get out of here before anything bad happens,” he shouted. “Come on! Get a move on!” He threw a pair of jeans and a hoodie at me and we both quickly changed and gathered up the bags. I don’t think I’ve ever run faster in my life as I did down the winding staircase to the front door. We managed to get everything into the trunk of our car quickly. He jammed the key into the ignition and the engine sputtered as he tried to turn it over. Again, he turned the key and the car refused to start. “Wait here,” he told me, as he popped the hood of the car. He went out and began to inspect the engine. Suddenly, the hood of the car slammed back down. He stood there, pale as a ghost. He slowly moved back to the driver’s seat and locked the doors once he was inside.

“What’s wrong with the car? Why can’t we leave?” I asked him nervously. The silence terrified me. “Answer me!” I screeched at the top of my lungs. I shook his shoulders to try to get him out of his dazed stupor. He whispered, “The gas lines have been cut. We can’t leave.” He began to cry as we listened to the howls of the creatures become increasingly louder. “They’re already here.”


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