THEY

A mother, her daughter, and four others of an exploration crew, are all that's left in a world full of creatures that seem to want no less than their total extinction.

They

    “Angel!” I shouted. “How many times have I told you to close the door properly? One day Scruffy’s going to get lost and you’ll be sorry! Especially if They find him!”
    I wiped my sudsy hands on the front of my apron and scooped up Scruffy. I scratched behind his ears while scanning the land; an abandoned farm that hosted a frowning gathering of wooden structures in the middle of plentiful land, and dirt roads which seemed to lead to nowhere in both directions. I lived in a weather-beaten farmhouse with the last remaining survivors.
    “Coming, Mommy,” my daughter said.
    Her voice was heaven.
    I kept peering out of the back door, seeing nothing but the deserted chicken coop, a saggy barn, and the drab sun, trying to warm up the weedy field, sprinkled with clusters of droopy sunflowers. I felt satisfied that nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but my nerves were still on edge. Just a few miles up and beyond the barn, dark clouds filled the sky and moved toward our direction. A storm approached.
    I felt comforted, hearing the pitter-patter of tiny bare feet rushing toward me. Scruffy spun over in my hands so that I could rub his belly. He let out a little whiny growl, and his golden brown ears twitched like the wings of a butterfly before flight.     “Don’t you look at me like that,” I said. “Who is the one that always comes to the rescue when you’re in trouble?”
    We had quite a few close calls since being stranded here, but They always seemed to pass us by in their noisy land vehicles that stormed by, too close for comfort, or their aircraft which showered us with terror and strong winds. We always made it to the secret storage room beneath the barn before their loud machines reached us in that pitiful shelter. I found Scruffy there (trembling with hunger) when we first found the old dusty land"right next to a few straggly stacks of hay behind the vacant horse stables.        
     “Mommy!”
    Angel ran into the spacious kitchen and up to me in her once-clean blue dress. She passed by the long wooden table and rickety old chairs, looking at me with her own little puppy eyes and wrapped her arms around my bare legs.
    “Mommy, you’re wearing the dress I picked out for you the day Papa and the others went bye-bye!”
    She was so little"to be so strong.
    “Uh-huh.”
   “It’s pretty. I’m so glad we got out of those ugly uniforms. I’m not wearing them, anymore"too much blood.” She looked down at my dressed and traced her fingers along the fabric, pressing into my legs. “See, Mommy? There are white flowers and yellow flowers"so pretty!”
    I nodded. “You’re my little helper"you understand that the blood on our clothes didn’t come from your father, don’t you?”
       

To Be Continued...on www.aceantoniohall.com under AceBlogs