Leaving

The sirens were about fifteen miles away from Melona, but their soft scream woke the elderly adults on the farm.

“Honey–” the wife started.
“I know,” the husband finished.

They shuffled their way to the hall.

“Go wake the kids, I’ll go… I’ll go start the protocol,” the husband said, clenching his fist with one hand, wiping a tear that had strayed from his wife’s eye with the other. The husband disappeared into a hidden room in the hallway. The wife stood alone in her thoughts, before shuffling her slippered feet downstairs.

“AYA, SASHA, RON, REE!” She hollered. The four teenagers groaned and pulled their blankets over their heads. The wife burst into their room. The one with fire as hair, Sasha, sat up quickly.

“Granny, what is i— Oh… Oh no,” Sasha said quietly, seeing the sadness on their granny’s face in the moonlight.

The sirens were louder now, about five miles away. The four teenagers were up and about, helping their grandmother gather up the six younger kids, ages from 3 months to 8 years old. The babies were bundled in blankets, their ears covered with soundproof headsets to drown out the sires. The triplet toddlers, aged 4, were clinging tightly to hands and necks, trying to wake up, go back to sleep or complain about being hungry, as they were placed in snow boots. The eldest of the smaller children, the 8-year-old, was helping Aya, the youngest of the teenagers (14), pack food into boxes and placing them onto a trolley cart. Sasha and Ree, both 16 but Ree liked to say she was the oldest because she was born 3 months ahead of Sasha, stuffed bags and suitcases full of clothes. Ron, 19, was pulling the truck around, backing it up to the front door.

The sires were a mile away now. In the distance, soft glows of ships and rockets were taking off, some of them… not making it. Planes and other aircraft suddenly passed overhead, a dogfight taking place right about their barn.

“WE NEED TO GO,” Ron yelled. The older teenagers started putting the boxes of food in the pickup, while Aya and his younger sibling started to load the smaller kids in with Granny and the babies.

In two minutes, just a little over their practice runs, they started to drive to the barn. The barn doors slid open as they approached, the halogen lights buzzing overhead. Their grandfather opened the door to where his wife was and kissed her forehead.

“Take the children, I need to talk to the older ones,” he said.

“I’ll go with her,” Ron said, getting out the truck.

The husband nodded slowly and took the three teenagers aside.

“Ron knows where to go. The moon should have a rest stop. Ron knows how much money is on the credit chit, but you have enough t-” A stray rocket hit the side of the barn. The barn shook, but nothing, on the inside at least, was damaged. The old man smiled sadly.

“You need to hurry.” The teenagers squeezed the old man in a group hug as they ran to the elevator. Their grandmother was getting off when they were getting on. She hugged and kissed them and told them to be good and that she packed a box of their favorites somewhere. She shuffled her way to her husband, who was at a console, pressing buttons and entering calculations. She stood behind him, watching the floor and ceiling open. A little cruiser ship started to come through the floor, looking like a bullet ready to be fired into the night sky.

Ron held his breath, his hand on the thruster.

Sasha and Ree were with the babies and toddlers. Aya and the 8-year-old looked out their windows and waved to the old people who raised them since the start of this alien war 2 years ago.

The old man pressed a button and Ron pushed the thruster, sending them up and away from the farm. Aya, Sasha, and Ree turned their heads toward the barn and watched it blow up. As they got farther and farther away from the planet, they watched their town go up. Their county went up. Their state went up. Their country went up. And when they were out of the planet’s atmosphere, the planet went up too.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s