By Seulement Moi
Seulementmoi101@hotmail.com
http://www.geocities.com/seulementmoi101/main.html
RATING : PG-13
CLASSIFICATION:: Vignette/Angst, William's POV
SPOILERS: The Truth, William.
ARHIVE: Anywhere, just let me know so I can visit :)
DISCLAIMER: They belong to Carter, Fox and 1013.
FEEDBACK: Always cherished :)
Notes: This is a sequel for "El Hijo". Please read that one first
so this piece makes sense. Thanks.
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This is one is for Pat, who always sends encouraging feedback :)!
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I'm sneaking out tonight. They are in a gathering, or so they call
it. There is this big room they all go to and talk to each other
with their minds. Something about them doesn't seem right. I can't
explain it, but there is a blur in their thoughts, like an
interference of some kind. I don't know what they are thinking, but
sometimes I hear my name in their minds.
Some say I must be destroyed, that I hold the key to humans'
survival. But others want to keep me, and I don't understand why.
I just know I'm not safe here. They are stronger than me and they
outnumber me by dozens. More arrive every day.
Lately, I haven't been able to read their minds, they have been
injecting me with some fluid that numbs my 'gifted' sense. So I know
something is up, I know that they are done making up their minds and
my fate is the result of their decision.
I must leave.
Now.
I escape through the window in the bathroom. I'm slim, so I fit
perfectly through it. I crawl on the dirt that surrounds the fort,
staying low so no one can see me. But there is no one outside. A dead
calm fills the air and I crawl rapidly until I get to the fence and
step away.
I remember reading once about some girls in Australia who followed
a fence to get back home. They, too, had been snatched from their
homes against their will and were held captive. I wish that there
were a fence I could follow or at least a home I knew how to return
to.
But I am alone. And scared.
And for some reason, I seem to be really important.
I think there are others like me. But the supersoldiers keep talking
about me and about you, my parents. Like if I were a menance they
need to get rid of. But how could I be a menance? I'm afraid of
them. I don't know how to destroy them or beat them. But still, they
seem to think I can.
How did this happen? Howcome nobody knew they were coming? I still
remember the first newsflash on tv, the first alarm of fires around
the city. And then the forecasts stopped. Nobody was on tv anymore.
At first we thought it was the signal. But then it dawned on us.
There was no one to give the news anymore. The few humans that
survived the first attacks had hidden in bunkers and in storm
shelters.
It was December 22, 2012.
About a month has passed. I'm not sure anymore. All my posessions
were taken away when I was brought to the fort. I lost my clothes,
my watch, my baseball card collection. The only thing I was able to
keep was my golden cross. My Mother called it a compass, the one that
would finally bring me back to you.
But I'm losing hope. Sometimes I think it's too late. The streets
are so quiet. I run through burning buildings, abandoned cars and
lonely streets. There is no one here anymore. In my mind I can
only hear distant whimpers, calls for help, life extinguishing. The
aliens have taken over, the world's population has been infected
with the alien virus.
I know some people are alive. I hear them sometimes. But not as
often as I would wish. Hearing them makes me think that maybe there
is hope, that the battle is not lost. That somehow my survival does
represent a threat to the alien invaders.
Alien aircrafts hover over the sky, searching. I stop everytime a
light comes my way. I hide under every piece of debris I pass, just
to make sure no one is following me. And I can only hear silence.
Sometimes, a low hum from the aircrafts floating nearby, but
basically nothing. Just the sound of fire burning, consuming
anything that could resemble human life.
I'm losing my faith. I'm lost.
I cling to my compass, wishing it could speak to me and tell me
which way to go. Away from the danger and closer to you.
Sometimes I think I hear your voices, calling my name. But how
could I recognize you if I never knew you? How can I know who
you are when I see you? I think I recognize your voices, but I'm not
sure it's you. I often hear prayers, female prayers, directed to
God, pleading that I am safe. To be kept safe.
But why would I want to survive if everything is gone?
After the world ends, who would want to stand and watch?
I continue walking towards what I think would be the street to lead
me to the federal building. Somehow my photographic memory finally
paid off and all the time I spent memorizing maps was worth for
something. But something is wrong. I can sense it. I am being
followed.
I turn to the first house I see. I crawl into an open window and I am
greeted by the stench of burnt plastic and flesh. I dare not look
around. I know what I would find. I hear some bees humming in other
room. But I'm not worried about them. The footsteps are getting
closer. They've come through the door and I see a shadow standing a
few feet from where I'm crouched down.
The shadow stays still. Looking around the rooms. Two feet away from
the door and all you see is pitch black. His shadow is eerily cast
by the burning buildings across the street. It comes forward, in a
slow motion. I know that if I move, the noise will give me away.
So I stay quietly in place.
A sudden voice in my head makes me shiver. A whisper.
<William>
He's calling my name. He's thinking my name.
It's too late. He knows I'm here. I need to run.
When I try to get up and make a run for it, he grabs me by the
shoulders and leads me closer to the light.
I can't fight him. I'm petrified.
"William?"
I gasp, hoping to see in the light a monster, an alien, one of
those weird looking aliens that are like men but have their faces
disfigured. The men that carry torches and set each other on fire.
But this is just a man. His eyes pierce through mine.
"William?"
His voice is soft and his expression shows concern. A feeling I
haven't experienced since the war broke out.
His thoughts jumble through my head.
<PleaseletitbeWilliam.Pleaseletitbehim.Ifoundhim.He'salive.
ThankGod>
I finally choke out an answer. A yes or something like it. I don't
know which, but it sounds like a whimper to me. But he seems to
understand and smiles at me. A sigh of relief escaping his lips.
"William. I'm John Dogget. I've been looking for you for such a
long time. I'm going to take you to your parents." He whispers to
me.
My parents. He knows my parents. The real ones.
"Can you take me to them? I need to find them."
He nods and smiles again, his eyes tired but clearly happy. He leads
me to a car down the alley. A woman seats on the front seat. A
brunette. The engine starts as soon as I close the door. She
turns around as soon as we're off the street and on a dirt road.
Her dark eyes studying me. Her face filled with joy.
"My God, I can't believe it. William. We've finally found you".
She smiles fondly at me.
I get the impression this people know me, as the son of my parents,
not as the weird kid with the gift. I like it. They seem honestly
glad that I am well.
"Honey, I'm Monica. Your parents will be so happy to see you!".
John glances back at me. Monica stares at me through the rearview
mirror. They both look so satisfied I can't help but smile.
I'm meeting my parents.
The world is on war and I can still smile.
I yearn to hear their voices. Ever since I knew I was adopted, I
felt this need to meet them, to see them.
To understand.
Why did they have to give me away? Why couldn't I be safe with them?
Why did the world have to end for me to meet them?
It didn't matter. Time was running out.
The day had come and I knew that from the moment I saw their faces
everything would make sense.
I would know the truth.
The truth they had fought so long to protect me from.
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Author's Notes: This has one last part coming up. Please be patient,
it will be posted very soon. :)
Feedback appreciated at: seulementmoi101@hotmail.com