Chapter 1

Section One:

 The Invasion

The clear, moonless, late-September night, was an astronomer’s dream.  Glistening points of light dotted the heavens, accompanied by the inherent chilliness of autumn.  Since the sixties, the seventies for certain, it had been difficult to witness the stars shine so fiercely and this many, so close to the city, due to the abundance of light pollution.  In fact, the city had not extended this far south until the late nineties.  But tonight, there were no street lights, no lamps burning in the windows, no flashing neon signs, no headlights on the roadways.  Tonight, the city was drenched in a blackness, not unlike the enforced blackouts during the bombing raids on London during the Second World War. It was as if the entire city were shrouded in a dark curtain.

Perhaps it was too cool, but there were no chirping crickets, ribbiting frogs, or other sounds of creatures usually awake at this hour.  Reclining there beneath a large maple, eyelids seemingly set on permanent open, protected from the elements by only the meager emergency blanket I had borrowed from the tire store, I began to consider anew the bizarre events that had occurred since that 4:00 P.M. shopping trip a few days before.

***

Several of my students, Doctor Carol Manning, and I had driven my van to the store to pick up some essentials required for a weekend campout planned by my grade ten math class.  We picked up a cart and began filling it with all the items on our check-list: camp fuel, firewood, matches, insect repellent, dried foods, sleeping bags.  Yes, I heard you ask, “why insect repellent?”  One thing I loved about fall camping was the complete lack of mosquitoes, because mosquitoes and cold weather just didn’t get along.  But trying to convince a group of young campers of this fact was a waste of breath.

We were nearing the conclusion of this after-school activity when suddenly, a tremendous explosion sent a shock wave throughout the store. A gigantic hole appeared in the ceiling at the opposite end of the building followed by the noise of collapsing shelving as it tumbled over, domino-style, from one end of the store to the other. 

I tried to see what was going on, but realized that if we didn't act quickly, the kids would likely get hurt.  Rather than try to run to the end of the aisle and get clipped by a shelf, I shouted for them to jump into the shelving and roll with it as it overturned.  As it turned out, this was a good decision.  The final items on our list were sleeping bags, one for Shari and the other for Lise.  They cushioned us from the tumbling metal. 

Shari was stuffed at my feet, while Bruce, Tammy and Lise were further down, yet still trapped in the tunnel-like tomb in which we found ourselves.  Bruce, one to demonstrate his prowess before the females whenever the opportunity presented itself, was all for muscling his way out, but I convinced him to remain calm and quiet while we determined what had just transpired.  There were no sirens, no fire alarm.  Strange! The only sounds I heard were a high pitched squeaking reminiscent of baby mice or rats, though much louder, and an odd buzzing or humming noise followed by screams.  I had no idea what that could possibly mean, but it didn’t inspire me with confidence, particularly since most of the noise was coming long after the shelves had fallen.  Still surrounded by soft sleeping bags, I edged myself closer to the end of the aisle where I could see a tiny speck of light at the corner of the panel where the end and back had been welded together.  I needed that tiny aperture to find out what was going on.

I had often experienced goose bumps from a particularly well performed piece of music, but what I now saw caused the hair on my neck and arms to stand so erect from sheer terror they resembled the hackles on an angry dog.  As quietly as possible, I told the students to remain calm and above all, silent.  I would explain when I could, but for now, all they needed to know was that their lives depended on their silence.  Trying to keep teens quiet in the classroom is not always a simple job, but I wanted to live and I was sure they did, too. 

I knew it wasn’t a gas explosion as it had occurred on the roof, and there'd been no flash or fire.   What I'd immediately imagined was that terrorists had set off a bomb and then taken hostages or something.  As awful as that scenario appeared, this was far worse.  This was pure malevolence.  What humans I could make out in the aisles were immediately being reduced to nothing but what appeared to be small spheres about the size of a softball, perched atop what seconds before may have been their clothing.  The buzzing I had heard was some sort of weapon or device these things -- I say things, because they didn’t resemble anything human I’d ever seen before -- fired at the men, women and children who'd escaped being pinned down by the shelving and who were attempting to escape. 

I didn’t have a great view of the store, but what I was able to observe was frightening.  I said nothing to the kids as a suited alien came within view, weapon in hand aimed in our direction.  I didn’t think it was constructive to worry them about what was about to happen.  I braced myself for the inevitable flash and pain I expected to experience.  Nothing! But, there it was again, that high-pitched noise. 

Suddenly, my view was obscured.   Something or someone was in front of the hole.  Then, like a solar eclipse, as quickly as it had darkened, it began to brighten and a leg came into focus, moving away to the far side of the aisle, revealing a complete image of the being.  It was about the height of an average human, but what I had originally taken for a head, might have been a helmet.  Suddenly, it seemed to be staring right at my eye.  I nearly panicked.  “Should I move?  What if I blink, will it see me?”   I froze, not wanting to give myself away and make the situation any worse than it already was.  There was a sudden flash, like a narrow beam of yellow light, seeming to emanate from the being.  For a moment, it blinded me, but then, the pair moved on, continuing their savagery.  The weapon fired again and again, but it appeared that we had, for the time being at least, escaped their attention and might live for a while longer. 

Another alien came into view.  This one appeared to be unarmed, but pushed a large black box that seemed to be suspended just above the floor.  The alien stooped to gather the spheres and placed each one with great care, inside the container.  

It was imperative that we remain silent.  Our immediate comfort was not worth the risk of drawing the attention of the strange beings who had invaded this building.  We lay there for an hour or more before experiencing the relief of total silence.  Yet, it didn’t seem like a bright idea to suddenly create a great disturbance that might be overheard outside and we couldn’t be certain that there was no one left to keep an eye on things.  I decided that we would remain where we were until we could be confident there was no one waiting for us to make a move.  Bruce was the first to resist my request, whispering that he needed to go to the bathroom.  I hadn’t thought about that problem, and suddenly thanks to the power of suggestion, felt the urge myself.  However, I pushed the feeling to the back of my mind and encouraged him to show some much needed constraint considering the circumstances.  We would attempt to remain where we were for another hour, give or take.  This wasn't an easy task for any of us, cramped as we were with obvious bodily functions screaming to be tended to. 

Unable to detect any sound after about fifty or so minutes, we decided we would carefully make our move.  We checked the shelf for any object that we could use to prop up the edge while we crawled out beneath.  As Bruce rummaged through the items at his end, moving objects that felt like clothing, he found that the end panel had been bent.  That, and the fact that the shelving had partly fallen onto the base of the next, made it unnecessary to do any propping.  Bruce cautiously backed out through the existing aperture. 

“Bruce?” I questioned quietly.  “Are you all right?”  Nothing!  I wondered why he wasn't answering me, and was concerned that he might have been captured or hurt in some way. 

“Sir!”  The sound came from above my head.  “Oh my gawd, Mr. W.  This place looks like a war zone.”  Bruce had moved from one end of the aisle to the other and was now hovering over my hiding place.   “Have everyone back out carefully.  Watch out for the end of the shelf.  It can catch your clothes.”  After telling Bruce to stay put, keep a low profile, and keep his eyes and ears open, I instructed the others to make their way out the back following Bruce’s path.