Humanity Must Endure

Sunday, May 16, 2032 - 2:45 a.m.

The night was purposefully quiet, the way that Hannah Van Horn needed it to be. All things considered, she’d rather have a fan on and her music playlist on in the background, but the time of those luxuries had gone. In the past four years, much about life as they knew it had all but dried up completely for her and her new family.

She looked at her older sister, Makayla, lying next to her. At twenty-nine years old versus Hannah’s twenty-one, Makayla may have been older, but living with Microcephaly – a condition resulting in abnormal brain development – Makayla was a six year old in an adult’s body. Hannah had been Makayla’s “big sister” since she, Hannah, was in Kindergarten. Now, after all that has happened, Hannah was now her mother-figure as well.

It had been three years since they had seen their parents. Their mother had been captured, taken who knows where. Their father made them a promise when they were both little to protect him till the day he died. It was a promise that he willingly kept, picturing his girl’s faces as the light in his eyes faded. Without them, to say that Hannah grew up was an understatement. However, she would give anything to see her parents again for one last hug or kiss. But the time together created a strong bond between her and Makayla, something solid, something special.

A small cough came from the side wall where Rose and Gwendolyn Dalton were sleeping. Across from Hannah was the Dalton’s brother, Ben, sprawled diagonally across his sleeping bag. Hannah shook her head. Ben could sleep on a pile of sewing needles.

“Lucky,” Hannah muttered under her breath.

These three were her family, in spirit if not by blood. Their parents were friends, loved each other like family, and passed that down to their children. As such, Rose had been Hannah’s best friend since their tweens, and their love was that of sisters.

The door to the bedroom slowly opened and Nathen Price, Rose’s boyfriend, poked his head into the room. She held her hand up in a feeble wave and he walked over to their makeshift bed.

“How’s she doing?” Nathen whispered, nodding his head toward Makayla.

“She has had a better night,” Hannah returned. “No nightmares.”

“Good,” Nate sighed. “She needs her rest,” then added quickly, “and so does her sister.”

“Then find some chloroform and knock me out,” Hannah rolled her eyes and sighed. “That’s probably the only thing that’ll help.”

“What time is it?” asked Rose, sitting up. She sighed and wiped the crusty stuff from her eyes.

“Almost quarter till three,” Nate told her.

“And you…..!” Rose started to raise her voice to scold him, but stopped herself. “You were supposed to wake me at midnight to stand sentinel.”

“You were tired,” Nate returned, applying his caring, soothing voice. “You needed your sleep.”

“So do you,” she sighed. “Stop sacrificing yourself for me.”

“I made your parents a promise,” he said, quietly but very seriously.

“But if you’re tired and drop, you’re no good to anyone. And I can’t carry you. Think, Nathaniel.”

Rose’s admonition sank in and he walked over to her and kissed her, a wordless promise of compliance.

Then from the next room, the sound of the front door creaked open. Nate leaned down to Ben and said, “Ben, look lively,” before taking position at the right side of the door. As if this was some programmed command, Ben rolled over and sat up pulling a Browning 1911 from under his pillow. He then slid over next to his sisters, kneeling in front of Gwyn, and made sure a round was chambered. Rose pulled a customized Glock 17 from somewhere and inspected it as well. Nate pulled a Chiappa Rhino .357 from his left side holster, cupped his right hand over the hammer, and slowly drew it back. All of their weapons possessed suppressor attachments.

Their father made them homemade silencers out of flashlights, metal pipes, even soup cans at the start of the occupation. Hannah’s mother vehemently disapproved of firearms. Her father complied with her mother and no firearm came into their home. However, the same couldn’t be said for blades, and her father took advantage of that. Hannah grabbed a katana from next to the bed, freeing it from its sheath, then took position on the other side of the door. They made hardly any noise.

Rose leveled her gun at one window while Ben covered the other. Some could likely use one person as a distraction while others could sneak through the back while their attention is diverted. The Dalton’s learned much from their parents regarding survival. They hoped the day would never come where they would need it, but that hope had been long gone.

Silence. Whoever it was, they were good. A Winchester rifle barrel crested the doorway. Nate grabbed the barrel and jerked the gun out of the person’s hands at nearly the same time Hannah kicked him in the back of the leg, dropping him to his knees. Nate followed this up with a Rhino butt to the forehead. The intruder dropped and Nate wrapped his arm around him to prevent a loud clatter to the ground. He then pointed the Rhino down the hall at two more bodies, merely shadows in the darkened hall.

“Don’t!” Nate ordered in a whisper.

The two people raised their arms slowly, holding their weapons by their shoulder stocks. They lowered them and set them on the ground at their feet.

“Thank you,” Nate said, quietly, appreciatively.

“Easy, sheriff,” said the one in front. “We didn’t want to cause a fuss.”

“Is it just the three of you?”

“Yeah,” said the one in front.

“Good. Now, why don’t we all come in here and we have ourselves a chat.

“You gonna brain us, too?” said the one toward the back in a deep voice. The drawl reminded Hannah of the actor Sam Elliott.

“Not unless we have to,” Hannah said. “C’mon.”

The two stepped forward to the bedroom, took their friend from Nate, and carried him to the opposite corner of the bedroom. Ben went to the front room, brought back a pump shotgun and an automatic rifle, and set them on the ground next to him. It was getting fairly claustrophobic with three added bodies. The one that was in front looked college age, maybe a little older, blue eyes that shone in the dark, and a handsome face that showed concern. The deep voice guy looked to be mid-forties, shoulder length brown hair, a few days worth of scruff on the chin, and dark eyes. Is voice was gruff, but his manner was gentle as he leaned his fallen friend on the ground. After that, he took a canteen and dripped water on their companion’s head. After a few moments, he started to stir.

“Easy,” said the deep voice one. “Take it easy, Carlos.”

“What’d I miss?” the knocked out man called Carlos asked, coming out of his daze. He scanned the room seeing his friends and a half dozen kids with some form of weapon trained on them all. “What the hell is this? Red Dawn?”

This got a smile from most of them.

“We apparently took refuge in their refuge,” deep voiced guy said. Turning to the young ones, he said, “I’m Matthew Saint. This is Carlos Ayala and his son, Juan. We didn’t mean to trespass. We were just looking for a place to rest.”

Matthew had this voice about him, and something in his deep eyes, soothing manner, and calm voice seemed to take the edge off the others. They lowered their weapons. Nate started their own introductions while Hannah, feeling more at ease, looked over at Makayla. She had barely moved. Hannah had to chuckle. At one time, she slept that hard. Now, she was as light of a sleeper as her mother before her. This opened Hannah’s mind to her parents. Makayla was all their Dad, but Hannah was a good mix. Her mother’s calm and cool demeanor had developed over time, but every now and then the temper she inherited from her father burned, if not blasted, through. Between her parents, the creativity, compassion, great love, and fierce loyalty was given to her. When Hannah felt, she felt with her whole heart. She couldn’t not.

“Hey,” Rose said, snapping Hannah back to the present, “where’d you go?”

“Just a little trip back home,” Hannah sighed, fighting back a tear.

“…so we’ve been on the run about seventeen days now,” Juan was saying.

“Where’d you break out of?” Nate asked.

“Colorado,” Matthew said. “Only know that because of the Rockys. Can’t miss those beauties.”

“In that time,” Carlos added, “we also noticed they’re increasing night patrols. So much so, they have to power down their crafts around dawn.”

“They power down?” Ben gasped.

“Yeah,” Juan said. “For a few hours at least. When they come back up, that’s when we usually find somewhere to hole up.”

“It’s easy enough to see them at night,” said Matthew.

“Because of the light,” Gwyn said, in her soft voice.

“That’s right,” Matthew smiled at her. “They still have foot patrols, though, so you still gotta be careful no matter the time.”

Their calm was interrupted by a moderate humming, starting low then beginning to crescendo as if on approach.

All at once, the family went to action. Hannah slid over to Makayla and shook her awake. Hannah regretted it, but if they needed to run for it, Makayla needed to be ready. Waking her thusly resulted in resistance. Makayla began to grunt and groan audibly. Hannah brushed the bridge of her nose, getting her attention. Hannah then began gesturing with her hands, shushed her, pointed to the ceiling, made a fist and flicked it open twice rapidly, pointed to her eyes then pointed to her chest before making a thumbs up.

Makayla whimpered slightly, gave her sister a thumbs up, then turned it to the sign for “I love you,” which Hannah returned before handing Makayla a curved edge knife.

To their credit, the newcomers made no move to rearm themselves. Seeing this, Nate kicked the gun he took to it’s owner with Ben following suit. Everyone checked and chambered a round if needed. They all looked up at the ceiling expectantly, like they were planning for the roof to be ripped from the house like the lid of a container of leftovers. Makayla reached out and grunted once as soft as she could. Ben slid next to her and took her hand in his off hand.

All around them, the approaching pulsating hum got louder. As the sound got nearer, a flashing, violently green light got brighter and brighter. When it was over the house, the craft hovered for an excruciatingly long time, searching for movement, registering noises. The pulsing noise broke into their minds, making their brain throb against the insides of their skulls. Finally, the alien vehicle began to depart. No one moved until the light couldn’t be seen through the window and the sound had faded completely. All at once, their tensions ebbed.

“When was the last searcher?” Ben asked.

“Two hours ago,” Nate sighed, “about five miles East.

“They’re right,” Rose said, meeting Hannah’s eye. “They’re getting more frequent.

“I know,” Hannah said.

“We can’t stay here much longer,” Rose insisted.

“I know,” Hannah returned, biting back in annoyance before returning to her normal tone. “I know. We’ll move at dawn.”

They all nodded in agreement. It wasn’t discussed if the new three would join them. It didn’t need to be. All knew if their captors were to ever be defeated, humanity must endure. Everyone found a comfortable spot and tried to sleep knowing when they wake their long journey would begin.