“If they aren’t yet, they will be soon.”
I help her up from off the floor and she wraps her arms around me and squeezes me so tightly that I don’t think she intends to ever let go.
“I came in here right after eighth period, and as soon as school ended, all these weird noises started coming from the halls. And it got really dark, so I locked myself in here and stayed beneath the counter, too scared to move. I just knew something was wrong, especially after I heard about you jumping through the window and you weren’t answering your phone.”
“That was smart, but now we have to get out of here, and fast.”
We leave the room, holding hands. The hallway lights flicker off, the whole school engulfed in darkness, even though dusk is still an hour or so away. After about ten seconds, they come back on.
“What’s happening?” Sarah whispers.
“I don’t know.”
We move down the hallway as quietly as we can, and any noise we do make seems deadened, muffled. The quickest way out is the back door that opens onto the teachers’ lot, and as we head that way, the sound of the floor polisher grows. I assume that we’ll run into Hobbs. I assume he knows that I’m the one who broke the window. Will he fend me off with a broomstick and call the police? I guess at this point it doesn’t matter.
When we reach the back hallway the lights turn off again. We stop and wait for them to come back on, but they don’t. The floor polisher continues, a steady hum. I can’t see it, but it is only twenty or so feet away in the impenetrable darkness. I find it odd that the machine keeps running, that Hobbs keeps polishing in the dark. I turn on my lights, and Sarah lets go of my hand and stands behind me with her hands on my hips. I find the plug in the wall first, then the cord, then the machine itself. It stands in one place, bumping against the wall, unmanned, running itself. Panic sweeps through me, with fear close behind. Sarah and I have to get out of the school.
I rip the cord from the outlet and the polisher stops, replaced by the soft hum of silence. I turn my lights off. Somewhere far down the hall a door slowly creaks open. I crouch down, my back against the wall, Sarah holding tightly to my arm. Both of us are too scared to say a word. Instinct caused me to pull the cord to stop the polisher, and I have the urge to plug it back in, but I know it’ll give us away if they’re here. I close my eyes and strain to listen. The creaking door stops. A soft wind seems to materialize from nowhere. Surely there isn’t a window open. I think that maybe the wind is entering from the window I broke. Then the door slams shut and glass breaks and shatters on the floor.
Sarah screams. Something sweeps by us but I don’t see what it is and I don’t care to find out. I pull Sarah by the hand and sprint down the hall. I shoulder the door and rush out into the parking lot. Sarah gasps and both of us stop dead in our tracks. My breath catches in my throat and chills shoot up my spine. The lights are still on but dimmed and looking ghastly in the heavy dark. Beneath the nearest light we both see it, trench coat swaying in the breeze, hat pulled low so that I can’t see its eyes. It lifts his head and grins at me.
Sarah’s grip tightens on my hand. We both take one step backwards and trip in our rush to get away. We move the rest of the way back in a crab walk until we hit the door.
“Come on,” I yell as I rush to my feet. Sarah stands. I try the latch but the door automatically locked behind us.
“Shit!” I yell.
I see another in the corner of my eye, standing still at first. I watch as it takes its first step towards me. There is another one behind it. The Mogadorians. All these years and they are finally here. I try to focus but my hands are shaking too badly to open the door. I feel them bearing down, closing in. Sarah presses close to me and I can feel her trembling.
I can’t focus to get the door unlocked. What happened to grace under pressure, to all those days of training in the backyard?
“John,” Sarah says, and in her voice there is such fear that it causes my eyes to open wide, and twist in determination.
The lock clicks. The door opens. Sarah and I push through and I slam it shut. There is a thud on the other side as though one of them has kicked it. We run down the hall. Noises follow. I don’t know if any of the Mogadorians are in the school. Another window breaks off to the side and Sarah screams in surprise.
“We have to be quiet,” I say.
We try opening classroom doors but all of them are locked. I don’t think there is enough time for me to open one of them. Somewhere a door is slammed shut and I can’t tell if it was ahead of us or behind us. Noises follow close behind, closing in, filling our ears. Sarah takes my hand and we run faster, my mind rushing ahead to remember the layout of the building so I can keep my lights off, keep from being seen. Finally a door opens and we fall headlong into it. It’s the history classroom, at the left of the school overlooking a slight hill, and because of the twenty-foot drop, there are bars over the windows. Darkness is pressing firmly against the glass and no light enters. I silently shut the door and hope they didn’t see us. I sweep my lights across the room and quickly turn them off. We’re alone and we hide beneath the teacher’s desk. I try to catch my breath. Sweat runs down the sides of my face and stings my eyes. How many of them are here? I saw at least three. Surely those aren’t the only ones out there. Did they bring the beasts with them, the small weasels that the writers in Athens were so scared of? I wish that Henri were here, or even Bernie Kosar.
The door slowly opens. I hold my breath, listening. Sarah leans into me and we put our arms around each other. The door closes very quietly and clicks into place. No footsteps follow. Did they merely open the door and stick their heads in to see if we were inside? Did they move on without entering? They found me after all this time; surely they aren’t that lazy.
“What are we going to do?” Sarah whispers after thirty seconds.
“I don’t know,” I whisper back.
The room is wrapped in silence. Whatever opened the door must have left, or is out in the hall waiting. I know, though, the longer we sit, the more of them will arrive. We need to get out of here. We’ll have to risk it. I take a deep breath.
“We have to leave,” I whisper. “We’re not safe here.”
“But they’re out there.”
“I know, and they aren’t going to leave. Henri is at home, and is in just as much danger as we are.”
“But how are we going to get out?”
I have no idea, don’t know what to say. Only one way out and that’s the way we came in. Sarah’s arms stay around me.
“We’re sitting ducks, Sarah. They’ll find us, and when they do, it will be with all of them. At least we’ll have the element of surprise this way. If we can get out of the school, I think I can start a car. If I can’t, we’ll have to fight our way back.”
She nods in agreement.
I take a deep breath and move out from underneath the desk. I reach for Sarah’s hand and she stands with me. Together we take one step, quietly as possible. Then another. It takes a full minute to cross the room and nothing meets us in the darkness. A very slight glow comes from my hands, emitting almost no light, only enough to keep from running into a desk. I stare at the door. I’ll open it and have Sarah jump on my back and I’ll run as hard and as fast as I can, lights on, down the hall, out of the school and into the lot or, failing that, into the woods. I know the woods and the way home. There are more of them, but Sarah and I will have the home-field advantage.
As we near the door, I can feel my heart pounding so hard that I fear the Mogadorians can hear it. I close my eyes and slowly reach for the knob. Sarah tenses, gripping my hand as tightly as she can. When my hand is an inch away, so close to the knob that I can feel the cold coming off of it, we are both grabbed from behind and pulled to the ground.
I try to scream but a hand covers my mouth. Fear rushes through me. I can feel Sarah struggling beneath the grip and I do the same thing but the grip is too strong. I never anticipated this, the Mogadorians being stronger than I am. I’ve greatly underestimated them. There is no hope now. I’ve failed. I have failed Sarah and Henri and I’m sorry.
Sarah is breathing heavily and with all my might I try to free myself but I can’t.
“Shhh, stop struggling,” the voice whispers in my ear. A girl’s voice. “They’re out there waiting. Both of you
