The Visitors

Only aim if you intend to kill. That was what Pa said on her seventh birthday when he took her to the fields for practice. That was the day she’d scraped her knee running back from the creek. It was funny what she remembered— dancing glimpses of shattered memories.

But six years later, she remembered how to aim the shotgun Pa kept on the rack above the workbench. Always loaded with two shells.

Always.

The cold metal pressed against Mia’s cheek. Her hands gripped the trigger, and she hoped no one could see the way her knees buckled and shook or the white color of her clenched knuckles. Strands of her frizzy hair floated around her face, sticking the sweat on her cheek.

“Don’t move,” she ordered with forced determination.

The low howl of a nearby coyote made her jump. But her eyes never pulled from the gray tarp crumpled on the ground.

It was right there.

From the kitchen window, she saw the blinding light streaking across the navy night sky and heard the crash as whatever ruptured the old barn’s roof. Pa was sleeping. He hated being woken up.

Mia held her breath as the tarp laid still for a moment. Pulsing blood rushed in her ears. Maybe it was a dream; perhaps it was all in her head. No, the fear was too real.

Then slowly, gray fingers twisted out from under, curling along the edge of the heavy fabric. It peered out from under the shadow to the gun’s metal barrel. Mia felt her mouth become bone dry. She inhaled slowly.

“I said don’t move.”

Whatever it was, recoiled and let out a sad hum. Mia blinked rapidly, looking around the dark barn. They were alone in the white moonlight that cascaded down through the broken rafters. A massive hole was cut out directly where the intruder must have smashed through. Pa had just repaired the old barn that summer, filling the patches of the broken roof.

Again, the thing turned beneath the tarp, shuddering as more sad sounds fell out. The tarp shifted, and Mia squeezed her grip on the gun until her hands cramped. She reminded herself to breathe. Like Pa said, there was no point in suffocating yourself.

The edges pulled back slowly as though the plastic tarp was a rippling wave of water. It sat curled in the dim moonlight.

It wasn’t exactly human. Different, but she sensed it was young like her. With skin scaled, pale gray, black eyes danced in contrast to the white moon. Its face contorted with pain, tilting its head to examine Mia as much as she did them.

Liquid eyes flickered down to its torso where its hand clutched, and dark blood oozed between each long finger.

“Are you hurt?” Mia asked, softening her tone. She lowered the gun, still wary and with trembling arms. At first, it did not appear to understand.

Unsure, she did not budge from her place.

“I can get help if you wait here?”

Her feet shifted backward in a small step. Pa would know what to do. Another intruder, and she was supposed to get him first. Retreating, she was careful not to bump the workbench, but her motion created a moment of distress. The creature writhed and shook its head.

“Just...wait, here. I’ll get help.” Mia spoke slowly, hoping it might understand. They reached out an arm and beckoned her to come forward. She froze, still clutching the shotgun like a life preserver. She turned on her heels to sprint out when a voice choked out, gargled and foreign.

“Wait!”

Mia turned. The injured visitor bent forward slightly, reaching for her. Its eyes pleaded.

She inched forward.

It extended its hand, and Mia swung the strap of the gun over her shoulder. Her fingertips met its cold palm then heat crawled over her forearm.

“Help. Need help.”

All at once, blinding lights flashed in her mind, then indiscernible images. It was as if her thoughts were no longer her own. There were stars extending into the expanse above like lightning flashes. Then a blue orb, smooth like glass where faint glowing veins crawled along its surface. From her grasp, it fell, spiraling into her home.

It had to be a dream, except she did not wake. Her mind ripped from the madness of images and settled back into reality.

It withdrew then.

“Help”

“Do you need that orb back?”

“Lost in attack. In there.” Its long curved finger pointed out toward the house, where Pa was now. Mia nodded and rose from the barn floor.

“Okay.” Retrieving it should be easy enough.

As she headed down the gravel path with the shotgun pressed in her hand and the pink nightgown shifting with the night breeze, the birds chattered overhead. Strange for a late hour like this. The neighbor’s dog began to wildly bark and snarl across the road.

Mia stopped.

White lights danced around the farmhouse. At least five shining flashlights flickered through the trees. Whatever cast the light, it was impossible to make out in the thick night. But a horrid feeling sank in her stomach. She skittered off the path and sprinted to the back door. Pa would be in there. Would he be mad if this woke him up? She’d worry about that later.

There was no need to turn the knob; the back door hung hardly on its hinges, swinging wide open. It swayed and creaked as the wind shook it. Mia raised the gun, pressing its end into her shoulder.

Then in the corner of her eye, she saw moving shadows along the far line of trees near the driveway. The lights flickered in then out, shifting with the silhouettes of night. Mia held her breath and dashed into the house.

“Pa!” she called out. Only silence met her. There were no regular snores that shook the walls through the night. Her small hands tightened as she stepped forward, and wide eyes scanned for the blue sphere.

Deep screeches echoed through the night.

That was no coyote howl, but Mia recognized the sound of a predator. She’d heard it before when the mountain lions came for the cattle or when the fox found a hole in the hen house fence. Or when the others arrived and took Ma away. That’s why there was a shotgun kept in the barn above the workbench.

She tiptoed to the stairs. As her foot hit the first step, a bitter chill ran down her spine.

Suddenly, a massive fist slammed through the living room window, shattering the glass. A scream stuck in Mia’s throat. Then another fist broke through, making its way to the door. Glass ricocheted off the floor and into a million pieces. But she did not linger to see.

She vaulted up the stairs.

Whatever was outside was in the house now.

At the foyer, she heard its heavy footsteps tromping in the kitchen. Mia wedged herself behind the tall cabinet and the wall, the shotgun pressed against her. Steadying her hard breaths, she listened. Back and forth, the invader moved until it reached the stairs.

With each of its heavy feet, step by step, it grew closer. The wood stairs creaked under the weight. Her lungs tightened.

“Mia!” a harsh voice whispered. Her focus shifted to Pa’s stern face, staring at her through the crack of the bedroom door. “In here.”

It hadn’t reached the top. Not yet. She inhaled sharply and bolted forward into the bedroom. It shut behind her, and the wild eyes of Pa met her own. His hands moved quickly, shifting the thick metal locks.

“You alright, kid?” he asked in a low, gruff voice. He patted her head, ruffling her hair as she nodded slowly.

“Something smashed into my bedroom window, and then these shits showed up.” He bent down to meet her eye level and began fumbling with the pistol gripped in his hand. “We need a plan to get out of here. The phones dead, and all the power’s been cut. I’m going to get my truck keys—”

It was a moment, a blink, and the bedroom door crashed in, sending Mia down onto the floor and the shotgun from her hands. She screamed as she slammed onto the floor. Pa was propelled to the other side, breaking the nightstand.

In the doorway, the massive creature stood. It was humanoid in nature but made of silver shining scales with fiery red eyes. Thin lips peeled back to reveal a row of glistening teeth. Fear tore through Mia. The shotgun laid inches from her fingers, still and silent. Pa’s head slowly lifted as he coughed and gagged.

“Run, Mia,” he whispered in a hoarse voice. “Over here, dumb ass!” Its blood-red eyes dilated, shifting to Pa.

Adrenaline spiked through Mia as her eyes darted around. There, under the bed near, was the shining blue orb. The creature stepped forward. Its tongue clicked against its teeth. “Run, dammit!” Pa screamed.

Mia reached for the orb. The glass was warm to touch, pulsing. The creature’s eyes ignited at the sight of it, but Mia had already raised the shotgun in her arms and pulled the trigger. It bellowed, ringing through the night as the shells sprayed. The impact was enough, and it forced the creature back. Black acid oozed from its skin, sizzling as it hit the floor. It groaned and reared, filling the home with an ear-piercing roar.

Then she ran. Peddling her feet quickly, she nearly toppled down the stairs out the broken door. The orb tucked tightly to her chest. Like a flying shadow, she didn’t dare look back and bolted across the yard until she was back inside the still quiet barn.

The stranger rose beneath the tarp. Its dark eyes shifted, pulling Mia in focus.

Gasping for air, she revealed the orb; its veins beat as though it felt her skyrocketing heart rate. The visitor enveloped the shining orb within its grasp.

“Thank you,” it said softly. “We will leave you.”

Before she could ask—before she understood why, a white flash enveloped all, consuming the barn and her eyes. Mia collapsed to her knees. It was only an instant, but the creature was gone and the tarp rippled to the floor. It was nothing more than a memory now like Ma, like scraping her knee.

“Mia!” Pa’s voice hollered from the farm house. She backed away slowly as if in a daze, unsure of what made sense. Pa stood at the porch stairs, waving his arm. The farmhouse lights flickered on, casting a yellow glow over the property. Before she left the barn, she reached into the box of ammo for two more shotgun shells and took a deep breath.

Always.