“Riley, wake up!” Logan
screamed in my ear.
I
jolted upright. It took a couple seconds for my eyes to adjust to the sunlight.
Waking up in panic seemed to be a theme over the last two mornings. It was not
something I wanted to get used to.
“What’s going on?” I said breathlessly.
We were entering a
small town with houses that looked like any amount of wind would blow the
shingles right off of them. Logan’s hair was wet with sweat, and his eyes
darted from window to window.
“The Thalls are back,” he said tossing me
my gun.
Thalls. That’s what we called them, the pre-historic
creatures my uncle was sending after us. It was easier than saying
“Neanderthals”: that’s for sure. They kind of reminded me of Ninjas because of
the all black attire they wore. We guessed my uncle dressed them like this so
they would look like a SWAT team chasing after someone and not bald monkeys
running around with bows and arrows. It was just a disguise so they wouldn’t
look so foreign and scary to outsiders, outsiders meaning everyone except us.
We were lucky their hands weren’t evolved enough to pull a trigger yet. It was
already dangerous enough with stone head arrows flying around you. What a sight
we were. An orange bus being chased by mad monkeys. This small town probably
never even saw a police chase, never mind this. At first, people just stood and
stared, but it wasn’t long before they started to have panicked looks on their
faces. They had it easy. The Thalls weren’t after them. They were programmed to
go after us, and only us. We didn’t know if the government officials had fled,
or the Thalls had gotten them already. My family was the final item on my
uncle’s “capture list.”
Logan and I unbuckled ourselves from the
bus we were traveling in to get a better view of our attackers. There were
about eight of them running after us.
Man, they are fast, I thought.
“Duck!” My mom yelled from the front
seat.
An
arrow came whizzing through the back window and imbedded itself in the headrest
in front of us. The Thalls were getting stronger. My dad pulled into the first
parking lot he could. The bus squeaked to a halt beside a gas pump.
“Why are we stopping?” Logan and I yelled
in unison.
People all around the
streets were now screaming and scurrying into stores and houses.
“We need to get out of sight. Get out of
the car and run. Find somewhere to hide!” my dad demanded.
“Go!” my mom cried.
I
grabbed my gun and booked it out of the car,
running as fast as I could. After I ran a couple yards, I slowed up to look
back to make sure my family was following. Before I had a chance to look behind
me, something tackled me from behind. It was a Thall. I could tell by its
hands. They were hairier than any man’s. I squirmed and wriggled trying to
break free. It had a grip on my leg, the same leg that had been grazed with the
arrowhead yesterday. The Thall stood over me as I lay on the ground flailing my
arms. I couldn’t reach my gun, so I gave it a couple blows with my fist, not
hard, but they did the job. It loosened his grip. I kicked and scratched my way
out of its grasp as pain shot through my ankle. I spotted a door to one of the
old houses as I struggled to my feet. Crashing noises were coming from behind
me. I limped to the porch and climbed the stairs to the house.
“Riley!” I heard a voice yell behind me
as I busted into the front room. It was one of them, my mom, Dad or Logan. I
couldn’t tell.
I turned. The Thall was
coming up the stairs after me. I went to get my gun from my pocket. Nothing.
It must have fallen out when I fell, I
thought.
I
heard grunting behind me. Before I could think, the Thall was lunging after me
again. I dove in between the open door and the wall. I waited for a moment.
This is where Logan would hide in our house when he wanted to scare me walking
into my room. Suddenly, there was a thud and my mind snapped back to the
present. I held my breath. I didn’t hear anything. I looked down. Only traces
of the bandage were still attached to my leg from yesterday. My ankle was
throbbing. I leaned over sidewise to see what had happened to the Thall. I saw
a shadow. It was looking for me. Something large slammed me between the wall
and the open door as it made its way into the house. I looked down and saw a
foot. I would know that shoe anywhere. I jumped out of my hiding spot and threw
myself toward him. My dad grabbed onto me and held me close.
“Are you okay?” he asked in a concerned
tone.
“I twisted my ankle trying to get away from
him,” I said as a tear started rolling down my face.
“They’re gone now. Let’s get you back to
the bus,” he said. That’s when I noticed a large scrape on his forehead. He saw
me looking at it.
“They sure got some sharp nails. Don’t
they, Kiddo,” he said pointing to the wound. He almost laughed while he said
it. I knew he was trying to distract me from my pain. No matter how bad things
got, he could always put a smile on my face.
“Where are Mom and Logan? Are they okay?”
I asked. I didn’t see them as I looked around.
We made our way to the
porch.
“They’re fine, just a couple bumps and
bruises,”
he assured me, helping me down the stairs.
“They’re back at the bus already.”
I wiped my eyes and
nose with my sleeve. We walked along the sidewalk. He supported my left side as
I hobbled back to the bus.
“Dad, there’s no one here,” I said
looking at the deserted town.
“That’s what happens when arrows fly,” he
said holding me tighter.
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