“Get the fire out!” Falk suddenly screams. He rushes from my side, grabs the huge pot of stew Christine had made for dinner, and dumps it over the burning logs. “Get it out completely! Hurry, goddammit!”
Everyone runs for water, pouring what we can find nearby over the flames. Falk runs off in the direction of the well and returns with the garden cart full of dirt from the hole and dumps it over the flames. Most of them die off, and we’re able to put out the rest with the water.
“Get near the buildings!” Falk yells at everyone. “Out of sight, and don’t move! Turn off your damn lanterns!”
He grabs me by the waist and pulls me over to the side of the shed. We drop to the ground and he wraps his arms around me.
“Don’t move,” he whispers into my ear. “Don’t move at all. We don’t know what kind of sensors they have.”
I try to control my panting breaths, and Falk keeps shushing me in my ear. I’m not sure if he’s trying to keep me quiet or keep me calm.
The craft looms over us, moving slowly. It’s clearly visible now and simply huge. I have no idea exactly how large, but I don’t think it could land in our common area. It looks to be as big as a football field. As it gets closer, I can hear a rhythmic humming sound, but it’s at such a low register, I feel it more than hear it.
“What is it?” I whisper. I tighten my fingers around Falk’s wrists where they’re linked in front of my stomach.
“Shh.” Falk tightens his grip on me. “I don’t know.”
The craft spins in a slow circle and then lifts higher as it glows bright enough to hurt my eyes. Far above the trees, it turns again and moves off to the north—the same direction as the others.
Falk let’s out a long breath.
“Are they gone?”
“For now, I think.” He doesn’t let go of me. “Let’s wait a while longer though.”
We all remain still and quiet for several minutes. When nothing happens, we all slowly stand and come together near the drenched and muddy fire pit.
“What the fuck?” Brett hisses through his teeth.
“I know this is what we talked about,” Caesar says, “but damn. That was…”
“Fucking insane.” Chuck reaches out and pulls Christine against his chest. He leans his head on top of hers, and the red tip of his Van Dyke gets wrapped up in one of her curls.
Everyone starts asking
the unanswerable questions all at once.
“Why haven’t we seen them before?”
“Where did they come from?”
“Do you think they’re looking for survivors?”
“No way to know for sure,” Caesar says, “but it’s as good a guess as any.”
“We’re going to have to watch the fires and lanterns,” Falk says. “Lights will definitely make it obvious that there are people here.”
“That’s going to be a problem when it gets cold.” Wayne leans against a nearby tree and stares at the mess in the fire pit.
“We’ll have to worry about that when the time comes,” Falk responds. “We have shelter. That will have to be enough.”
“What about cooking?” Christine asks. “I can’t cook for so many on the small stoves.”
“We’ll work that out, too,” Falk says. “You won’t need to cook anymore if we’re all dead.”
There’s more talk of how we are going to get along without light at night and the heat from the fire. There are a lot more questions about the craft and what it means, but there are no answers. Hours pass, and people start heading to their own abodes.
“Frustrating,” Falk mutters as Caesar walks toward his own apartment.