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Authors: Pauline Creeden

Sanctuary

Sanctuary

 

© 2013 Pauline Creeden

Cover Design Copyright © 2013 by Marcy Rachel

 

E-book Edition.

 

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the author.

 

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious and are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

 

Interior formatting and design by
Inkstain Interior Book Designing
.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

AND THE NAME OF THE STAR IS CALLED WORMWOOD:

 

And the third part of the waters became wormwood; and many men died of the waters, because they were made bitter.  And the fourth angel sounded, and the third part of the sun was smitten, and the third part of the moon, and the third part of the stars; so as the third part of them was darkened, and the day shone not for a third part of it, and the night likewise. And I beheld, and heard an angel flying through the midst of heaven, saying with a loud voice, Woe, woe, woe, to the inhabiters of the earth by reason of the other voices of the trumpet of the three angels, which are yet to sound!

 

—REVELATION 8:11-13

 

 

 

 

 


NO, I DON’T WANT T
O
see them.” Jennie Ransom swallowed hard, and her heart jumped to her throat. In her panic, she itched to claw her way out of the little blue Volkswagen.

“But I hear we can see them from the highway.” Liza shook her red curls.

Jennie stared at Liza, trying to steady the erratic beat of her heart. “My parents will kill me.”

When she received no response, she turned away, watching the highway pass by at 65 mph—or faster if she knew Liza.

“They don’t even have to know.”

Right. Mom and Dad didn’t have to know. It would be fine, yet the knowledge didn't help her feel any better. Jennie closed her eyes and willed her heart to slow.

“It’s been over a week, and we still haven’t seen them. And I really want to see them before we leave,” Liza whined, hitting the lock button on the doors.

Jennie’s eyes snapped open. “What am I going to do? Jump out?”

Liza giggled.

The gaping maw of the Hampton Roads Bridge Tunnel loomed before them. Hardly any traffic, and a gray mist consumed all but the bridge.

“Fine. But we do a drive-by, and that’s it. Are we agreed?” She clenched her jaw after saying it. Whatever her crazy friend wanted to do with her, she was honestly at Liza’s disposal.

“Agreed. I don’t want to get any closer, anyway. Who knows if they’ve got some kind of tractor beam or something?” Liza's hand swept up toward the sky.

What a child. Jennie shook her head. How much had they changed, really, since the aliens came?

On the radio, Shania Twain belted the song from a Cover Girl commercial. Jennie eyed Liza, whose intent gaze focused over the dashboard as they pulled into the tunnel.

The traffic was lighter than Jennie had ever seen. With one-third of the population killed off by the aliens’ indirect attacks, it wasn't surprising. Other people, like Liza’s family, were running for the hills to get as far from the ships as they could. Anywhere was better than being near the population centers and military bases the ships hovered over.

When they pulled out of the tunnel and into the grey afternoon light, Jennie took a deep breath and scanned the sky. Nothing yet. But they were only a few miles outside of the Norfolk Naval Base, and it wouldn’t be long.

Liza drummed on the steering wheel and sang a line of the song, ending it by mouthing her own version of the guitar riff.

Jennie swallowed and gripped the shoulder rest of her seatbelt as they pulled off the bridge and made it onto Willoughby Spit.  Outside the window, a few seagulls surrounded dead fish on the shore, and she could only imagine how badly it must stink. The fish had been dying in droves since the aliens had attacked the water supply. All but the groundwater had been tainted. Filtration systems had no effect. The strange bitter-flavored toxin killed the fish and would kill people if they forced it down. Luckily, the harsh taste made most people spit it right back out.

They pulled through a treed area and passed a state trooper. Liza let off the gas and decelerated, staring in her rearview mirror.

“That isn’t going to stop you from getting a ticket, if that cop is in a mood.” Jennie laughed, and when no blue lights followed them after a minute, she added, “Lucky.”

“No kidding,” Liza laughed, “Did I ever tell you about the time—oh my God!” Her eyes grew wide, and slammed the brakes. Jennie’s seatbelt locked.

“What?” Jennie followed the line of Liza’s gaze. They passed out of the treed area, and it came into view. Silver, round, and glossy, just as the news said it would be. It shifted in and out like a mirage. She blinked hard at it, while Liza pulled the car over to the shoulder.

“I can’t believe it.” The tremor in Liza’s voice betrayed her nerves.

Jennie nodded but didn’t say a thing. The moment reminded her of her first glimpse of the Statue of Liberty, as they drove by it, headed for upstate New York. From the highway, the statue had looked like a toy on the horizon. Her heart had leapt in her chest then, just as it did now. It’s one thing to be told about something, and even see pictures of it on TV, but it was quite another to take it in with your own eyes.

She tore her gaze away from the strange, floating metal disk and saw that Liza’s was the last in a long line of cars that had pulled over on the shoulder. Some people had even stepped out of their cars to take pictures with their camera phones. Liza hopped out, and Jennie gave a grumbled response to the closing door. Even though fear gripped her insides, she unbuckled and jumped out after her friend.

Liza clicked away with her camera phone, standing in awe with the others. The look of the disk rotating in the sky, blocking out the half-lit sun, was enough to make Jennie want to scream and hide under her bed covers. She could understand, now, why so many were running for the hills. Shivers ran up her spine and gooseflesh popped up her arms.

“Liza, what are you doing here?” a man asked. The sun glinted off the golden highlights in his brown hair. He looked vaguely familiar.

“Mr. Harris.”  A blush rose to Liza's cheeks.

Jennie blinked and studied the man. Yep. Hot Mr. Harris, the Bio teacher and every senior girl’s crush. Her friend, Terra, had taken the class with him last year. Jennie shoved her hands into her pockets and averted her gaze from the thrumming metal disk less than a half mile away.

“You girls shouldn’t be here, you know. It’s not safe, and I’m sure your parents wouldn’t approve,” Mr. Harris admonished but gave them a half smile.

Was that a dimple? Had she ever seen him smile before? Ridiculous. Of course not. Her eyes returned to the disk, and its vibration continued in her chest. Panic rose up in her throat again.

“Do you think you could take a picture of us? Then we’ll leave. Promise.” Liza handed Mr. Harris her phone and yanked Jennie toward the metal fence line.

She dragged her feet and shook her head. The last thing Jennie wanted to do was get closer.

Mr. Harris eyed her, his brows furrowed. “Did I teach you last year? No, wait—Terra’s friend, right?”

Jennie half nodded.

Liza adjusted Jennie’s shoulders and wrapped her arm around them, turning her so that her back was to the ship. Jennie stiffened. The thrumming of the machine sent vibrations through her core. She could hardly stand still. Prickling fear ran across her back, as if she were being watched...or as if she was vulnerable to an attack. She longed for the safety of the car.

Mr. Harris frowned, his worried, sympathetic eyes fixed on Jennie’s.

“The picture, Mr. Harris?” Liza reminded him.

“Oh, yeah.” He lifted the camera phone and snapped it.

The minute the flash ended, Jennie darted for the car, fumbling with the handle, and dizzy from hyperventilating.

“Are you okay?” Mr. Harris called after her.

“She’s fine, and thanks for the pict—”

With a door slam, Jennie cut off the last word and the dreadful hum of the alien ship’s constant rotation. She slumped into the seat. The pit of her stomach still quivered, and she felt faint. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see or hear any more.

A moment later, the car door opened, and Liza spoke. “Wasn’t that the coolest thing you’ve ever seen?”

Jennie broke into a cold sweat. “Whatever. Let’s just go home, okay?”

“Chicken.” Liza made a few bock-bocks and flapped her elbows like wings.

Jennie smacked Liza's elbow when it threatened to pop her in the chin. “Okay, whatever. Let’s just go.”

With a shrug, Liza pulled the Volkswagen Beetle back onto the highway. She made her way to the next exit, where she turned around. “Well, at least I’ve got a picture of the two of us for a keepsake.”

Jennie groaned.

“And we got to see ‘Hot Mr. Harris.’” She giggled.

Jennie rolled her eyes. What did her friends see in him?  He was so much older than they were—at least in his mid-twenties.

As they passed the ship again, on Liza’s side, Jennie turned her head away and looked out her window at the abandoned houses in those neighborhoods. If she didn’t see the ship, it was easier to deny it hovered there. As far as she was concerned, she’d never seen it.

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