Page 14 of Exiles on Earth
I snap out of it, shaking myself. My thoughts scatter in a dozen directions, trying to catch up to reality. I should call someone. The police. The fire brigade. Maybe an ambulance. Or all three, full house. My hand fumbles for my phone, but my gut twists. What could they do? This is beyond anything anyone has ever come across.
Or… is it?
This isn’t a burglary or a fire, these are aliens. What would the government do? With everything they’ve put farmers through, I really wouldn’t be surprised they know aliens are real. Would they erase evidence of him? Erase me? Hell, for all I know, they’d nuke the farm to cover this up.
I squeeze my phone in my pocket harder than I mean to, the plastic case creaking under the pressure. My gaze shifts back to the ruins of the barn. Insurance would weasel out of paying a penny without a police report, and an alien invasion sure as hell isn’t covered in the policy.
My head and neck throb as the weight of it all crashes down on me, pun not intended. I press my hands over my face, groaning softly into my palms. I’m in deep trouble. The kind of trouble I can’t deal with alone.
And in this kind of mess, there’s only one set of people I can count on to help.
Lowering my hands, I come to a decision. “Stay there. Don’t go anywhere else.”
He tilts his head slightly, almost to his shoulder. “Yes, female,” he murmurs to the ground.
The tone needles at me, but I push it aside. I can’t get at what that’s all about right now, I need to focus on one thing at atime. “Ellen. My name is Ellen.” Without waiting for a response, I stride toward the house, pulling out my phone.
Mud streaks my hands, so I wipe them as best I can on my equally muddy jeans, and scroll to the group chat with Arabella, Laura, and Nicole. Hitting record, I say before I overthink it, “Ladies, I need help. It’s an emergency. Come to the farm as soon as possible.” I hit send with fingers less shaky now I’m doing something.
Floss is still sitting on the doorstep where I told her to stay when the barn exploded. Her little body trembles, eyes locked on me with the kind of worry only a dog can muster. When she sees me, she barks, but she’s super obedient and only comes when I touch my leg. I let her into the house—a rare privilege—and she slinks under the kitchen table. She’s nearly deaf, but we have such a strong bond it’s almost like she can hear my thoughts. Her presence heartens me, letting me reach for the next items on my never-ending to do list.
First, get the worst of the muck off. At the kitchen sink, I splash cold water on my face, and scrub the grime from my hands. My hair is a lost cause, plastered in damp strands against my forehead, but I don’t care. Through the window over the sink, I keep watch on the aliens littering my lawn like fallen giants.
The big one moves around, pulling the other aliens free from the wreckage one by one and laying them carefully in a row in the lee of the spaceship. He limps as he moves, a staggered rhythm, but never stops. Over and over, he circles them like Floss in her heyday, making sure the herd is all well and kept together, constantly checking on their comfort. Even in the rain and with his own injuries, his focus on his friends never wavers.
The slim silver-blue alien looks the worst off, with a nasty gash on his head and mismatched limbs making him look half-robotic. Another green one is trying to sit up but keeps collapsing back, and the big guy presses him down with afirm hand to force him to stay still. One big purple one fusses over two others who lie motionless, lilac frames nearly identical save for the faintly different patterns of color on their torsos.
Six. Six enormous aliens, ruining my garden, wrecking my barn, and shredding what’s left of my sanity. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, hot and unwanted.
I press my forehead against the cold tiles above the sink, letting the coolness anchor me. First step: survey the damage. No, wait… I squeeze my eyes shut. First step: figure out what to do with them. Then, sort out everything else.
The girls will know what to do. They always do.
“Floss,” I whisper, grabbing the door handle to leave, my boots hitting the threshold with a decisive thud. Even though Floss can’t hear me, she knows the determined thump of my step and heaves herself out from under the table, her old legs steadying as if bracing for whatever comes next.
My friends are on the way, and when they arrive, it won’t matter if I’m facing aliens, robots, or the end of the damn world. Together, we’re unstoppable. And these uninvited guests are about to find out exactly what that means.
SIX
ELLEN
Secondsafter I stomp to the end of my road, Nicole’s battered pickup rumbles up, Arabella bouncing in the passenger seat. The rain has stopped, but sunset approaches fast, the fading light glinting off puddles along the muddy track.
“Right,” Nicole says, splashing into one of those said puddles as she steps from the truck and yanks the key from the ignition, game face on and brown hair pulled back already. “I’ve got my veterinary pack, Arabella is prepped to do some nursing, and I assume it’s multiple breached ewes if Floss is okay.” She grabs her backpack and pulls on a sterile glove, snapping it into place on her wrist. “I can operate if you’ve got the barn clear. Where are they?”
Arabella races up to me, camera bouncing on her chest and red curls flying from her messy bun. “What is it? You look like hell. Did Fassbender send around some heavies or something?”
“No, nothing like that–” The rest of my words are drowned out in the roar of an eight-litre engine screaming up the road.
Laura pulls in, stepping out of her sleek BMW, her red high heels crunching on the gravel track. She pushes her smoothblonde tresses back from her heart-shaped face. “What is it? Foreclosure? Forced purchase? We’ll fight it, Ellen.”
All three of my very best friends focus on me.
I take a deep breath. “It’s aliens.”
Eyes widen.
“Pardon?” Laura asks, recovering the quickest.
