IN THE SKY

 a novella by Cael Roraback

1

 Society didn’t know where it came from. Some say it was an alien or an alien spacecraft that arrived to “end the world”. Anyone who stared at it immediately lost their mind and turned into a bloodthirsty psychopath, murdering anyone who hasn’t laid their eyes on it. Some theorize that you end up like that because what you’re looking at is beyond human comprehension, something so scary that it plants fear into you. The crazies that claimed the world was going to end in 2012 were right all along.

 I shoved foods of all kinds (canned beans, bread, astronaut ice cream), into my backpack, zipping it up tight. “You ready?” Kieran asked.

 “Yes,” I replied. “Let’s get out of here.” Tears flowed down my cheeks.

 “Mason, what’s wrong?” Kieran asked, worryingly. We didn’t know each other for that long, but he was a true friend.

 Wiping the tears, I replied: “I miss Chester. He was my friend, my best friend. Now that he’s gone, I feel like I’ve lost everything. He was the only friend I could ever truly relate to.”

 Kieran’s eyes watered. “I feel you, Mason. I know what it’s like to lose someone valuable. I’m sorry.”

 Chester Brown has been my friend since third grade. I was the new kid. On the first day of school, he sat down next to me and said: “Hey, I’m Chester, and you?” I replied by saying my name and he grinned. “My brother’s name is Mason,” he giggled. We played together during recess every single day. On the days he was absent, the day felt longer. Chester was always the class clown. He played stupid pranks on the teacher all the time, to the point where the teacher told him to wait in the hallway because she was sick of his antics. Years passed. We made it to high school, finally. He matured (thank goodness) and even managed to get a girlfriend. We always came to each other’s houses and read comics, watched TV, or just talked about life. When we graduated, he attended New York University to study business while I took a gap year to work and save up money. Years later, we were both 35 years-old with well-paying jobs. Chester ran a lamp store in my city, selling lamps (that was it, really). Boeing hired me to work on airplanes (I went to college a few years before working there). It was grueling work: long hours, stressful projects, and living in the expensive city of Seattle made it all too difficult.

 “We can’t let the past haunt us,” I told Kieran. “Let’s get out of this city.” We were leaving Denver and heading south to Topeka, where his family was. We stuffed our necessities in the backseat of Kieran’s yellow Hummer. “Be ready for anything,” I told him as I hopped in the passenger seat. Kieran ignited the engine and we headed for The Sunflower State.

 

3 years earlier

Beep beep beep beep beep! My alarm clock went off. Upset that I had to get out of my cozy bed, I shut it off and hopped out of bed. Time for work. Waiting for the shower water to turn warm, I studied myself in the mirror, looking at my groggy self, looking forward to feeling the soap and water all over my body.

After my shower, (like any normal person would do), I dressed myself, happy to be clean. It always felt good to be clean. I can’t get through my day without showering because I’m so distracted on how dirty I feel that I can’t focus on any task.

Finished my cereal, brushed my teeth, packed my work bag, and left my apartment, sighing because it was Monday. I turned the ignition and pulled out of my parking space, whistling while I drove to Boeing, where I worked. I’ve always been an introvert. Crowds were too stressful to be in, and I couldn’t stand being in a group of people, even if they were my friends because I felt left out. When I was thirteen, I developed a stutter. And to my misfortune, it grew worse over the years. When I was sixteen, it got so bad that I could barely talk at all. Fast forward fifteen years later, I still stutter. I couldn’t tell you how painful this speech impediment was. What’s odd is that I stuttered at random; sometimes I would stutter while talking to a bunch of people. But I’d be talking in front of a large audience and I wouldn’t, not one single time. That has always puzzled me, leaving me extremely frustrated. Thankfully, it went away as I entered my twenties.

Traffic was beyond awful in the mornings. Rarely, I’ve witnessed road rages occur near me. Must’ve been some quality entertainment for everyone, especially for the school buses. Maybe the whole world has just lost it by now.

Eventually, I reached Boeing, relieved that all that traffic hell was finally over. I parked my car in the garage, entered, and greeted the receptionist, Sophia Dimes.

“Good morning, Sophia,” I greeted her, flashing her a fake smile. “How’s your morning treating you?”

She was concentrated on her computer, doing who knows what. Probably ‘receptionist things.’

“Good morning to you, Mason. I am doing just fine,” She replied, also flashing me a fake smile. Nearly every employee at Boeing looked depressed, probably because of the grueling work we all had to do.

I reached the elevator. I pressed the UP button and patiently waited for the elevator, twiddling my thumbs. An employee who I’ve never seen before approached me and said something haunting. He was an average-sized man with slicked back black hair. He was pale and his there was something off about his eyes. The creep looked like a serial killer. “It’s coming.”

 Slightly disturbed, I asked: “What do you mean? What’s coming?”

 “The end,” the man said with a blank expression, looking beyond me. He walked away.

 I was going to approach him myself and ask further questions, but he didn’t seem…right. The elevator doors opened, I stepped inside, pondering what he was talking about. Little did I know, something horrifying would happen several hours later.

2

 My office was a mess. Bent paperclips were scattered all over my desk, crumpled up pieces of paper lay everywhere, even on the floor of my cubicle. My mother always called me a slob back when I was still living under her roof. I have ADHD and OCD as well, so getting work done was rather difficult sometimes. When I was comfortable on the sofa and the TV remote wasn’t in the middle or was too close to the edge of the coffee table, I had to get up and move it to where it didn’t bother me. Sitting in my chair, I logged on to my computer and ordered some plane parts from some other airplane manufacturer.

 Later in the day, I struggled to concentrate. Speaking to co-workers, working on airplanes, sitting at the computer in my small cubicle, suddenly became hard. The end. The stranger’s words sent several chills down my spine. What if he was right? No, no. He’s on drugs. No one can predict when the world ends.

 After work, I drove home, full of anxiety. Enduring Seattle traffic was irritating. My car had windshield issues. If I switched on the DEFROST button, the windshield hardly got rid of the fog on it. So, that combined with night driving was dangerous. Surprised I haven’t gotten in a car accident yet. The sedan I drove was a white 2011 Chevy Aveo. (It didn’t take me long to realize that it was a piece of crap) The check engine light was always on, the defrosting was broken, the brakes were lazy, the list goes on. Fortunately, I made it home.

 Just like my office, my apartment also happened to be a total disaster. I rarely did the dishes, clothes covered the floor, and I even had a roommate move somewhere else because he couldn’t stand living with me anymore due to how much of a pigsty our place was. I unlocked the front door and plopped my work bag on the floor, feeling accomplished that my shift was finally over. One activity I commonly did after work was grabbing a cold beer and watching the news. I believed it was important to know what was going on in the world. Gary, the weatherman was reporting the weather. “And, over here,” he pointed to a location on a digital map. “Seattle will be under 30 degrees Celsius today. Over here, you have Spokane at a freezing temperature of-” He froze, looking beyond the cameras. “What…is…that?” His eyes bulged. The cameras were turned in front of Gary and outside floating in the sky was a gigantic black sphere, taller than the Empire State building. A man burst in the room, his eyes red, his mouth foamy as if he had rabies. He let out a roar, so loud and fueled with fury, grabbed a pencil off a desk and dove for a man who was too shocked to move, stabbing him repeatedly in the stomach with it until there was blood covering the floor. He was right.

 I shut off the TV immediately, a bit traumatized. Screams were heard from outside, cars were crashing into one another, people were staring at it, turning into a killer within a matter of seconds, attacking one another until their heart wasn’t beating. My eyes couldn’t believe what they were seeing. Seattle wasn’t Seattle anymore. It was hell.

 Immediately, I locked my door and barricaded it. My phone was ringing, I answered it and it was Chester.

 “Chester!” I cried, relieved. “Where are you? Are you seeing what’s happening outside?”

 “Yes,” he replied. “What’s going on?”

 “How should I know?”

 “I’m coming over. We’ll discuss what we’ll do from there.”

 Chester would get murdered on the way here, I knew it. “Chester, wait,” I said. “That’s a suicide mission, you know that, right?”

 “Trust me. I’m fast on my feet, I’ll outrun them.”

 “Fine,” I said. Get here quick. Be careful.” I hung up.

 Outside, I heard someone scream something. Something important. “DON’T LOOK AT IT!!”

 Don’t look at it? If I look at it, will I become a serial killer or something? I pondered. That didn’t make any sense because I was already staring at it through my window and I remained normal. But I looked further outside and I saw people get out of their cars, staring at it, becoming one of them. Maybe, I thought. If you look at it through a transparent object, like a window, it won’t hurt you. Because the people out there who looked at it without looking out their windows turned into one of them.

 Time passed very slowly. It felt as if I was waiting ten hours for Chester to get here. Knock knock knock. That was him. Removing the barricade, I opened the door and he entered. “Thank goodness you’re here.”

 He didn’t answer. On his shoulders was a backpack that a prepper would carry. It was probably the biggest backpack I’ve ever seen to be honest. Chester pushed everything off the coffee table and set his pack down, unzipping it.

 “You can thank me later,” he said. He pulled out two .22 pistols, a first aid kit, canned food, water bottles, and a compass. “Wow,” I said, surprised. “And everyone said you were terrible at preparing for things.”

 Chester looked me straight in the eyes. “We need to leave Washington, head south to a rural area.”

 That sentence was too much for me. “Leave home? Where are we supposed to go? By south, are you talking about the South? Like Mississippi or something?”

 Chester nodded. “My dad always told me if something like this happens, head to a rural area. Nobody would bother us in Mississippi. I think we both know we can’t stay in Seattle.”

 “I mean, you’re not wrong, but that would take days, possibly weeks, considering what we would run into out there. But if that’s what it takes, then count me in.”

 “Good,” Chester replied. “We’re taking my pickup, that way we can store supplies we find on the way. Now, do anything you must do before we leave. This journey’s going to be big.”

 An important question entered my mind. “Wait, Chester,” I turned around. “You know not to look at that thing in the sky, right?”

 “People in the streets saw it and turned insane while I was inside, looking at it through a window while I remained normal, so I added the two together. I don’t know what that thing is and why it’s here. All I know is that we need to get out of the Pacific Northwest and head to Mississippi.”

 His answer reassured me. “Okay, I’m glad you knew not to. Anyway, I don’t see what’s keeping us waiting. Let’s leave this miserable city.”

 Before we opened the door, we discussed what the plan was.

 “The second I close the door,” Chester told me. “We sprint to my truck, trying to be as silent as possible, I’ll unlock the doors, we hop in, we shut them and lock the doors, and we leave. We better pray we don’t get attacked on the way. Understand?”

 I nodded, impressed at how cautious he was.

 “Then let’s go,” Chester said as he turned the knob.

3

 Turning the knob was the equivalent to sneaking out of your bedroom at midnight to grab a midnight snack without waking your parents. We dashed down the stairs, hoping no one would sense us.

 Before we reached the door to the outside, Chester laid a hand on me. “Mason, wait. We need to take a peek, see if anyone that looked at it are out there,” he whispered. Feeling brave, I pushed the door slowly open and let my eyes do the work.

 There were two out there, fighting. Chester looked at me, whispering: “They shouldn’t see us, they’re too focused on killing each other. Run with your head down, I’ll unlock the truck, and you get in, close the doors, quietly. Go.”

 The door shut and we were off like sprinters in track and field. The whole time, I looked all around to see if anyone else spotted us.

 We made it, and the second he unlocked the truck, one from behind spotted me and was sprinting towards me, screaming with rage. “Aah!” I cried. I hopped in and shut the door (Chester was already inside). But the person stopped chasing me. His expression was blank and somewhat confused. He turned around and went on with his search for blood.

 Chester and I exchanged glances. “Can they not see through windows or something?”

 “I guess so,” Chester replied. “Anyway, let’s get the blazes out of here,” he said, turning the ignition. Relieved, Chester typed JACKSON, MISSISSIPPI on the GPS he already had installed in his truck and we were off.

 “You think we’ll make this trip…alive?” I asked.

 Chester turned to me. “I…don’t know Mason. I really hope so.”

 “You have family in Washington?” I asked, trying to reassure him. “No. Do you?”

 I shook my head. “I have family in New York. I hope they’re okay.”

 Even though we were best friends, the first half hour of being cooped up in the truck was awkward, but somewhat comforting while Seattle was going haywire. All around us, we saw hell. People screaming for their lives and people running after others. Buildings were ablaze. I was surprised how fast society crumbled. I felt sick to my stomach when I witnessed a mother running with a baby in her arms, crying. Within a matter of seconds, she was tackled by one of them and I saw death.

 A few minutes later, we passed a man who seemed to be broken. He looked middle-aged, had long, scraggly gray hair, and wore a large black overcoat. The man didn’t seem to mind the psychos harmed by it all around him. His eyes were focused straight ahead. He wore an eerie smile, as if nothing could hurt him anymore. That reminded me of my QFC days. In my high school years, I worked as a courtesy clerk. (The people that bag groceries and push carts) Nearly every single shift I worked, there was an old woman that wore the same outfit as the broken man. She wore the same skirt that went below her knees, except she didn’t smile. The woman wandered the store for hours at a time, exiting and entering repeatedly. She approached me out of nowhere sometimes and asked me the most random questions. Once, she asked me to ‘determine how old I thought she was’. She was there until the day I quit.

 To our surprise, there wasn’t much traffic in Seattle. Two hours later, we were in Yakima, where it was surprisingly deserted compared to Seattle. I tried to boost morale. “You want to play iSpy?” I asked, hoping Chester would answer ‘yes.’

 “No,” he said with a focused look on his face. “We need to focus. We’re grownups, not kids.”

 My feelings slightly hurt, I replied with a sad: “Oh, okay. You’re right.”

 By hour four, we made it to Walla Walla. Unfortunately, it was getting dark. “Hey,” I turned to him. “We should stop somewhere and rest for the night. Can’t drive all night, we need to conserve gas.”

 “Good idea,” he said. I could tell he was impressed. We found a gas station about twenty minutes later. All the lights were shut off. “Maybe it’s abandoned?” Chester questioned. “Let’s check it out.”

 We pulled over on the side of the road and armed ourselves. “Mason,” Chester reminded me. “Remember, don’t look at it. I know it’s tempting.”

 “Right back at you,” I replied.

 We checked behind us to make sure we weren’t being followed because this was an idea that every survivor would have: setting up camp at an abandoned gas station.

 Chester swung the front door open, his pistol out. “Be very, very quiet,” he whispered. I nodded in acknowledgement. We split up. Every aisle was clear. “I’ll check the back,” I whispered. Chester didn’t reply. Cautiously, I slowly opened the door leading to the breakroom. No people. I met Chester in the middle of the store. “We’re safe.”

4

 “Did we pack sleeping bags?” Chester asked me. “I don’t remember if we did or not.”

 I shrugged. “I’ll check.” I pushed the front door open and felt a breeze of cool air. Scanning the area, I didn’t see anyone. I hopped in the back and checked Chester’s truck for the sleeping bags. Yes! We brought two.

 “Be careful!” Said a voice from not too far away. Oh no. I had to act fast. If I lay in the back of the pickup, being as still as possible, they would obviously find me. And if I crawled under the truck, they would see me from far away, so I threw one of the sleeping bags in the corner and buried myself under it, not moving a muscle.

 “Damn,” a different voice exclaimed from a closer distance. “My truck’s a piece of shit compared to this baby.” He tapped it, chuckling. “You know how to hotwire this thing?”

 “No, I wish,” the first voice said. “If I could, we’d steal it and kill anyone we see, no matter how old they are, how much they beg, and especially if they’re fat!” What’s wrong with these guys? And what do they have against obese people?

 Glass shattered. “Yo, what the hell, Brian?” The first voice demanded, clearly ticked off. “We’re going to drive this, don’t mess it up!”

 “My bad,” Brian apologized.

 “I’m going inside to check this bitch out, you stay out here and keep watch,” Brian’s buddy commanded.

 “Sure thing, Maxy.”

 “Don’t call me that!” Max yelled.

 Brian whistled a tune from some old song (or it was just from a tune he made up) and seemed to have lit his cigarette. “Ah,” he said to himself. “Good stuff.”

 I couldn’t stay here. Very carefully, I moved my hand from under my stomach to the edge of the sleeping bag, gently lifting it up to see if Brian was still there. He remained a few feet away from me, but he was facing the opposite direction of me. Aw, man. This is crazy. Quietly, I uncovered myself from it and stood up. Then, without even thinking about it, I tackled him to the ground, shoving my pistol in his mouth. His cigarette fell on the ground. “Don’t make a sound,” I said through gritted teeth. “Let’s go,” I ordered. “On your feet.” He obeyed and I marched him inside to where Max was. Chester. I forgot all about him. I hoped he was still alive. “Hey!” Max cried. He came running out in a jiffy. “Bro, put him down! I’ll do anything. Just don’t hurt him.”

 “I’ll give you your friend back if leave and never come back,” I said. “Also, where’s Chest-” BAM!! Max collapsed on the floor; his left eye shot out. He wasn’t moving. Brian stared at his dead friend. “Y-y-you k-killed him.” He hesitated for a second and then screamed in fury at the top of his lungs. “HE WAS MY BEST FRIEND!! I’M GONNA KILL YOU FOR THAT!!” He escaped my grasp and dove for Chester. Not being able to react fast enough, he fell to the ground, Max on top of him, choking him. “M-Mason,” Chester struggled. “Shoot him…”

 I aimed my .22 at the man, straining from shooting him. “W-w-what’re you doing? Shoot him!” I pulled the trigger.

 Max immediately stopped moving and Chester pushed him off. “Damn, Mason,” he said, rubbing dirt off his shirt and pants. “I didn’t think you had it in you. Thanks. Thanks for saving my life.”

 I don’t know how I smiled, considering I just killed a human being. “Don’t mention it.” Angry screams of insanity filled the air. Horrified, I looked behind me. Nearly a hundred infected people from about a mile away were running. Towards us.

 “C-Chester,” I gasped. “We need to go, now.” He nodded in understanding and at the same time, we bolted it to the truck and Chester shoved his key in, but it didn’t turn. “Shit!” He cried. “C’mon, c’mon.” He turned and turned, in different patterns and at different speeds, but the key didn’t budge. Their screams grew closer. “Here,” I intervened. “Let me try.” Same outcome. I craned my neck to the back window. “Damn, they’re coming closer, and they’re fast.” The key turned and the truck roared a satisfying roar of life and we got out of there as fast as we could, even though they couldn’t see us anymore.

 It was too risky to pull over and find another place to stay because by now, it was pitch black outside. After an hour of driving, Chester started to close his eyes behind the wheel. “You want me to take over? You should rest,” I offered. Chester thanked me and now I was driving. The further down in Washington we were, the more rural it was getting, so we didn’t run into any problems. Chester and I hardly spoke due to how exhausted (physically and mentally) we both were.

 Many hours later, we found another gas station that had some of its lights on, but nobody was in it. Both of us concluded that we wouldn’t stay the night because of the lights being on. Anybody could see those lights from miles away and come raid it. We raided it ourselves and refilled Chester’s gas tank. All we can say is ‘thank the heavens we got gas’.

 

5

By now, we were in Cottonwood, Idaho, a rural city. We were staying the night in an abandoned church. The churches I always went to were modern churches with a stage that a band play on. The pastor dressed himself in buttoned up shirts and from time-to-time, made jokes that caused the audience to laugh their heads off, even though I rarely found anything funny. Food wasn’t scarce yet, we still had plenty of plastic water bottles, and all we could think about was reaching Mississippi. As we sat in the dusty benches in the church, we stuffed our faces with canned beans. We didn’t care that they were cold, we were starving. “That really happened to you?” Chester grinned. “You drove on the left side of the road?”

“Let me explain,” I chuckled. “My driving instructor happened to be this big, burly man with a southern accent. He treated me like trash the entire test. He told me to back around a corner, but I went too far and was backing around it on the left side. He practically screamed at me, which activated panic mode, and of course, I failed.” Chester was mocking me at this point. “You must’ve been on some medication back then that made you act like a complete idiot.”

“I actually did take medicine that morning, ADHD medication. But that backfired and made me super jittery. I took it a second time and I failed again, I forgot why, but I remember being really pissed off.”

“Did you pass it the third time?”

“Yeah. I felt so relieved when my instructor told me I passed. I thought if I failed three times, I would have to wait six months, but it didn’t work like that at my school.” I tilted the can of beans into my mouth, making disgusting noises as I swallowed each bean.

“You think we’ll make it?” Chester looked at me. His eyes were glistening. “Of course. I know it,” I replied. “We just have to believe we can.”

 “As long as we don’t look at that alien in the sky,” Chester said with a mouthful.

 I threw my can in the corner. “You think that thing’s an alien?”

 “It’s got to be. How else would it get there? Inanimate objects don’t just move on their own.”

 Confused as to what anything was anymore, I replied, sounding angry. “Well, we don’t know what that thing is and why it changes you when you stare at it. Hell, no one does. We shouldn’t worry too much about it. Let’s get some sleep. It’ll be dark soon, and we need as much energy as we can get for the next day.” I blew out a candle that was already there and before we dozed off, a voice from outside shouted “Help!”

 Both of us heard it and we got to our feet, rushing outside to see who needed aid. We didn’t even think about bringing our pistols.

 “Hey!” I shouted as I pushed the church door open. “We’re here to help!” No one was in sight. Turning to Chester, we exchanged glances. Suddenly, a bag was slipped over my head.

 “Wake-y wake-y!” Said a voice as a bag was lifted off my head. It appeared I was in a warehouse. My arms and legs were tied to a wooden chair. In front of me stood a man dressed in an oversized black hoodie and worn-out jeans. He had a buzzcut and was missing some teeth. In his left hand was a power drill. “W-where am I?” I demanded. “Where’s my friend?”

 The man got on his knees and was now eye-level to me. “Your friend is…away.” His voice was high for a grown man. “But don’t worry,” he flashed me a toothy grin. “I’m here to take care of you.”

 I grew irritated. “Where is he?” I said through gritted teeth.

 “Oh, fine!” He exclaimed like a child, standing up. “Bring him out.” In an entry to another room, Chester was being brought out, tied in a wheelchair. A similar-looking man had wheeled him out and set him next to me. “Chester!” I cried. He had bruises all over his face. His face had “help me Mason” written all over.

 “What the hell do you want?!” I cried, jostling in my chair with rage. The man with the power drill got down on his knees again, a few inches from my face. His breath smelled putrid. “We want all of your stuff. Everything.”

 “Okay, okay. Just let us go and we’ll take you to the church we’re staying at.” I really hoped he would listen to me, and luckily, he did. “Fine, but no tricks. Untie him.”

 They untied Chester and I and they marched us to a gray sedan. “Get in,” the other man ordered. We obeyed and the short-haired man ignited the engine. The ride was silent. Chester and I sat in the back while the other two were in front. Not one of us said a single word. I looked out the front window and noticed a lake ahead of us. The Sphere was floating in the horizon, waiting for us. The driver turned the car abruptly and the car was heading straight for the lake. “W-what’re you doing?” I cried. “Stop!” The two men in front closed their eyes and hummed a chilling melody. Acting quickly, Chester and I opened the doors and bailed, rolling like crazy on the dirt. The car submerged into the lake, sinking.

 “Are you okay?” I asked Chester. He nodded, feeling his face, groaning. “We need to get back to the church. We need to head back and find somewhere miles away from Cottonwood. There could be more of whoever those guys were.”

 “It’s going to be a long, long walk. Do you need to rest a little bit?” I asked. “I think I have enough in me to walk back.” Chester shook his head. “Let’s just go.”

 We walked in the night. The night owned us, and we accepted that. The sunset ahead of us was beautiful and we stared at it for nearly the whole walk. Years back, in my junior year of high school, I was writing a story in my school. For some reason, staying at school, listening to music, writing, reading, or just thinking about life when everyone was at home made me feel nostalgic in a way, as if I would reminisce of my life in the future and reflect on my high school years, which I certainly did. Anyway, I called it a night and walked home (which was a ten-minute walk) and felt as if something was watching me. There was a fence that separated the football field and the baseball fields that I walked beside to enter my neighborhood. I had my hood over my head, so my hearing was decreased by a hair. Since I had the feeling I was being followed, I checked behind me several times, and when I was beside the fence, I stopped walking and stared at the field, thinking. Thinking about my future when a voice interrupted my thinking bubble. Near the football stadium bathrooms, a man’s voice said “Hey!” Like he needed my help with a physical task. I stood, frozen in fear because I gazed where I thought the voice was coming from, but nobody was there. The rest of the walk home was full of uneasiness. The scariest part was that I was alone.

 “I see the church,” I reassured him. He didn’t respond. The Sphere was behind us, so we had it easy. If it was facing us, walking back without turning into one of them would be impossible.

 About a half hour later, we survived the trek and we were packing up to relocate somewhere miles out from the church. As Chester started the truck, we debated where we would go next.

 “Salt Lake City,” Chester proposed. “It’s probably full of supplies.”

 “It’s a city! We’ll be dead before we even find a place to stay if we drive there.”

 “Then what do you have in mind?”

 “I don’t know, we’ll just drive until we find a place that’s rural enough.”

 Chester scoffed. “Really? Drive for how long, Mason?”

 “Well,” I hesitated. “If we keep driving for a few more hours, we should be able to reach Utah. To get to Mississippi as soon as possible, we need to spend one or two nights in each state and drive for the rest of the day.”

 “It’s not like we have better options,” Chester gave in. “Let’s press on.” We left Cottonwood and drove to Utah.

6

 “Keep an eye out for any buildings that look deserted,” I told Chandler.

 “You got it boss.”

 Idaho was behind us now and we entered the Mormon State. “Seems rural so far,” I said, scanning the outside. “No buildings though.”

 We were driving on a long, straight two-lane road. Occasionally, we pass a few cars, but not many are on the road anymore. Something caught my eye. On our side of the road, a family of four was walking. “Hey,” I said, pointing. “See that? It’s a family.”

 “I see them. We don’t have room, and we can’t trust anyone,” Chester replied.

 My eyes widened. “Chester, it’s a family. Who knows how many miles they have probably been walking? Not to mention it’s nighttime. We can’t just leave them here, that’s inhumane! Pull over next to them and offer them hospitality,” I scolded.

 Sighing, he listened to me (thank goodness) and pulled over next to them as soon as we reached them. The Sphere was behind us.

 I rolled down my window. “Hey,” I began, not knowing where to start. “You guys need a hand? We’re willing to help you out.”

 The family consisted of a father, mother, son, and daughter. The father had short, slightly curly black hair, wore jeans, had black-framed glasses perched on his nose, and was wearing a black t-shirt. The mother was a bit shorter than him, had long brown hair, also wore jeans, and was wearing a black winter coat, presumably her husband’s. The son had brown, wavy hair. Like his parents, he was wearing jeans, except they were torn. He was wearing a black leather jacket; he looked about sixteen. The daughter’s hair was dirty blonde. She wore a long, white skirt that ended just below her knees. She was wearing a red sweater. Her hair was long and curly, and she looked fifteen. All four of them were wearing backpacks.

 The father’s look on his face was filled with worry, but I could tell he was desperate. “Y-yes, please! We’ll give you our weapons so that way you can trust us, r-right?”

 “Set your weapons in the back and hop in,” I commanded. They did as I told. “Kids, please sit in the truck bed, we’ll sit in the backseats,” the father said to his children.

 “Hey, not so fast,” Chester chimed in. “If your kids are going to sit in the back where our guns are, the guns go up here.” He got out and grabbed the guns from the back and set them on the floor of the passenger seat, where I sat. The kids climbed over the side of the truck and were in the truck bed.

 Chester turned around. “Now,” he started. “What’re your guys’ names?”

 The father spoke: “My name is Matthew; my wife’s name is Shelly. The boy’s name is Adrian and the girl’s Alyssa. Thank you for pulling over.”

 “Where are you guys heading?” I asked, clearing my throat.

 The kids stared at Chester and I, listening. “The South,” Matthew replied. “It’s rural, nobody should disturb us.”

 Chester and I exchanged glances. “That’s where we’re heading too: Mississippi, actually,” Chester said, surprised. “If we can trust you and if you happen to be telling the truth, we should stick together as a group to make it down there.”

 Matthew shrugged. “Mississippi it is. You fine with that, honey?”

 Shelly nodded, looking unconfident. “I don’t see anything wrong with Mississippi.”

 “Well,” I clapped my hands. “Let’s not keep her waiting,” I said. “We were going to spend the rest of the night driving,” I notified the family. “You guys look exhausted, get some sleep. Chester and I will take turns driving. By the way, I’m Mason and he’s Chester.”

 “S-sure, whatever you say,” Matthew replied, hazily. Nobody made a sound for the next hour.

 Dawn broke. Not many cars passed us, and in the distance, the mountains shined. The Sphere followed us like the Sun. In times like this, I’d be waking up for work, yawning every two minutes and not looking forward to working. I’d look out my balcony window and watch Seattle, thinking about the busy life I had.

 I stared at the Sphere through the rearview mirror. Why are you here? How did it get here? What is it? I pondered for a while, wishing my life would return to normal, to how it was.

 Four hours later, Chester pulled over. “I have to stop driving, I can barely keep my eyes open. You want to take over, Mason?”

 “By all means,” I replied, yawning. “Hopefully we’ll find a structure soon.” I opened the passenger door and we switched seats. Driving at dawn was always peaceful to me. The sun was rising and my eyes watered.

 “What time is it?” Matthew yawned, awake. “Oh,” he said as he leaned forward to check the truck’s clock. “W-wait, where are the kids?!”

 Shelly sighed. “They’re in the truck bed.” Matthew’s eyes went wide as soon as she said that. “They’re in the back?! They could be harmed out there! They’re prone to that thing!!”

 “Mason,” he cried urgently. “Pull over. I don’t want my kids to sit back there. Shelly and I will sit in the back.” I did as he asked, but the kids were fast asleep. “Alyssa, Adrian, get up. We’re switching seats,” Matthew ordered.

 The kids sat up, rubbing their eyes. “Where are we?” Adrian asked. “Look this way,” Matthew said. The Sphere was facing them.

 Matthew helped them out. “Utah. Mason and Chester are getting us there. Expect to be in the truck for a long time, it’s dawn after all.” The two kids expressed sadness on their faces. “Oh, okay,” they said, simultaneously.

 “Everyone ready?” I asked. The two kids nodded, the adults giving us a thumbs up. Lightly, I pressed my right foot on the gas pedal, hearing Chester’s pickup purr. The ride was quiet for a while until Alyssa asked a peculiar question: “Hey, why’d you help us?”

 Even though it was a simple question, my mind boggled from it. “Well,” I cleared my throat. “You’re a family. If it was just your parents walking, we would have passed you guys. Kids are important, they’re the future. I mean, who knew the amazing things you two could do to help, help anyone. You’re still young. But that doesn’t matter.”

 “Oh,” she replied, nonchalantly.

 “Her and her phone are probably best friends,” Chester muttered under his breath.

7

 “I’m starving,” Alyssa whined. “I’m going to help myself to some bread.” She reached for the bread in a bag lying on the floor of the truck. “Okay,” Chester said. “But you can only have one piece. We need to conserve our food.”

 “Let me have a slice,” Adrian chimed in as he grabbed a piece. “This bread sucks, it tastes awful, so plain!” He exclaimed. He rolled down the window and tossed the bread and watched the wind carry it behind us. His sister did the same.

 “Woah, woah!” I scolded. “Don’t waste any food. We need that to survive, I hope you know that.”

 “Sorry, I’m just hungry,” Adrian apologized.

 I tried to get to know them a bit. “So,” I said awkwardly. “How old are you guys?”

 They turned around to glance at their parents. They had their eyes closed, presumably resting their eyes. “I’m seventeen, and she’s sixteen,” Adrian responded.

 “What’re your hobbies?” Chester asked.

 Adrian stared at the mountains in front of us. “I’m into longboarding, that’s about it. I read books from time to time.” Alyssa nodded, acknowledging. “I love everything fashion. That’s all you need to know,” she chuckled. I wasn’t surprised by her answer. Teenage girls are addicted to their phones and watching makeup tutorials on YouTube. It wasn’t like that in the nineties. I sure do miss the simpler times.

 I drove us until it was nighttime. About a few hundred feet ahead of us was a building. “Hey, guys,” I said. “There’s a building, see it?” I pointed. They didn’t answer. They were asleep.

 The building seemed to a gas station. The lights were shut off. Another gas station? “I’ll wake them up,” Chester said. When I parked the truck next to a gas tank, I woke Matthew and Shelly. Chester shook the kids. “We found a gas station; we’re going to check it out.” Matthew stopped Chester. “No way in hell my kids are going in there, who knows what could be in there. There could be traps, or-uh, dangerous people in there!” Chester backed away. “Okay, okay, cool it. They’re your kids after all.” Shelly walked beside her husband, Chester and I in front, armed with our pistols. “Don’t make a sound,” I told the couple.

 I pulled the door open and shined my flashlight. The only sound inside the convenience store was the hum of the machines. I pointed to a door. “I’ll check back there, you guys, check the remainder of the perimeter.” They nodded. “Stay behind me,” Chester reminded them.

 The door wasn’t locked, so I didn’t have to make any noise to break the lock. Slowly, I turned and pulled the handle, hoping nobody was in here, and to my luck, it was clear. There was a fridge. I was surprised when I opened it and found it stocked with cans of soda. “Back room’s clear!” I shouted. “Same here!” Chester shouted back. “I’ll get the kids,” Shelly said. She opened the door and motioned for her kids to come inside.

 “I guess we’ll spend the night here.” Adrian’s eyes went wide. “So, we have all this food to ourselves?”

 “It seems that way,” Chester replied. “Probably shouldn’t eat too much, we’re going to need a lot of this for the road.” Adrian frowned. “Oh, okay. That’s wise I guess.”

 Chester and I set up our sleeping bags in one of the aisles. The family didn’t have anything to sleep on. Chester offered Alyssa his sleeping bag, but she refused and said her sweater acted as a blanket and she didn’t find the floor cold. Adrian refused as well. Matthew and Shelly slept together in the backroom while the other two slept in different aisles, presumably on the floor.

 I couldn’t sleep. “Chester,” I whispered. “You have the time?” He didn’t answer. “Dammit.” I rested my head on my left arm, eyes shut tight. “Hey,” a child’s voice whispered softly. “Come over here.” I stood up and jumped a mile when in the backroom, boy that looked about eight was standing in the doorway. His hair was messy, his clothes tattered. “W-what?” I asked. “I have to show you something!” The kid exclaimed, not caring that there were sleeping souls around. I left the aisle and approached the boy. He was smiling. “Join me in this room, you have to look at this,” he said as he stepped out of sight. “Please, you have to look at it!” He cried. Scared, I entered the backroom and he was gone.

 In the morning, I told Chester what happened. “Chuh-Chuh-Chester!” I cried. “Last night, a boy was in the backroom. He called me over, told me to look at something, I don’t know what it was, but a-a-a-as soon as I went inside the room, he vanished into thin air. There’s no windows or vents or any way out but the door that leads to it. How is that even possible?!”

 “And this wasn’t a dream?”

 “No, I’m sure of it. It all felt too real.”

 Chester sighed, looking behind me and then back at me. “Did you tell the others?” I shook my head. “I’ll t-tell them.”

 Matthew glared at me. “If you’re trying to scare the kids, you better leave.”

 “What? I’m not making this up, I swear!” I cried. “Please, you have to believe me. Maybe I’m crazy or something, but this happened.”

 Shelly was about to speak when Adrian spoke first. “It has to be the Sphere. Call me crazy, but maybe it can cause hallucinations. Mason sounds insane, but I believe him. You don’t have to believe us, but that thing in the sky has to be behind it.”

 Everyone but Adrian were astounded by what he just said. “That…actually makes a decent amount of sense,” Shelly said. Matthew scoffed. “R-really? You really believe this?”

 Alyssa, Shelly, Chester, Adrian and I stared at him. “Do you want to live?” I asked, hoping he was intimidated.

 “Of course, I want to live. You know, what, f-f-fine. I believe you. Maybe the Sphere can do more than tempt you to look at it.”

 “Good, it’s better to be together instead of divided,” I replied. “We should eat some breakfast and get back on the road. We should be able to reach Colorado by this evening if we don’t make any stops.”

 Chester sighed. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

8

 “Where are we going again?” Alyssa asked.

 Chester turned around in the passenger seat. “Once, we leave Utah, we’re going to drive through Colorado, then we should spend a few hours in New Mexico. We’ll go from there.”

 The Sphere, behind us drove the parents crazy because they were facing it. They lay on their backs, feet pointing to the four of us. I was about to start a random conversation to sharpen our minds when the truck stopped running, leaving us stranded in the middle of nowhere.

 “What just happened?” Adrian demanded, leaning forward, resting his head on his hands, which his elbows rested on the center console storage box.

 “The engine died,” Chester said, frowning. “I’ll open up the hood and see what the problem is. He opened the passenger door, walked to the hood and opened it, coughing and waving the smoke that was in the air that floated out of the inside of the hood. He motioned me to open my door. I did and he said: “Truck’s done. We’re on foot.”

 The parents hopped out of the back and walked over to Chester. “We’re on foot?” Matthew complained. “Are you serious? You’re going to make my kids suffer!”

 Shelly reassured him. “Honey calm down. I’m sure we’ll find another car. Hopefully one of us knows how to hotwire.” Chester spoke: “I know how to. My dad taught me many years ago.”

 All of us were outside now. “Well,” I said, hands on my hips. “We’ll walk until we find another vehicle, Chester will hotwire it, and we’ll be back on the road. Carry as much as you can, we’re getting the hell out of Utah and journeying into Colorado.”

 “Wait,” Matthew said, concerned. “We don’t have a GPS. How will we even know where we’re going?”

 “Good point,” I said, stressed. “Maybe we’ll find a compass, or we’ll find another vehicle with GPS or install our GPS into our new vehicle…when we find it.”

 Matthew scoffed. “C’mon Mason,” he said. “Do you even know what you’re doing? Do you even know how to replace a GPS? W-what if we don’t find a working car for miles?! You’ll get us all killed!”

 “Dad!” Alyssa and Adrian cried.

 “Calm down!” Adrian said. “Mason knows exactly what he’s doing.” Matthew backed away, feeling threatened. “All right,” he sighed. “I’m putting my faith in you. Let’s go, I guess.”

We slumped our backpacks on our shoulders, feeling the intense heat on our faces. Times like this were the worst. There wasn’t much conversation during the long, painfully exhausting trek. Not many vehicles passed us. I walked aside Chester while the family walked together behind us, separate from us two. “By the way,” Chester said randomly. “What’s your last name?”

“Patterson,” Shelly murmured.

“Good to know,” Chester said.

 We walked for hours. We had to take many breaks along the way to sit on the dirt and catch our breaths. Food and water became scarce; our supply grew low much faster than I thought it would. The sky was full of clouds. It was quiet until it started raining. The rain fell harder and I looked up at the cloudy sky. We opened our mouths and let the raindrops invite themselves onto our tongues. The Sphere was behind us and we forgot it was even there. By now, we were laughing and dancing in the rain, celebrating. Alyssa looked behind her and froze. We stopped and noticed. “Alyssa?” Adrian asked. She spun around and let out a scream of fury. Foam came out of her mouth and her eyes were bright red. She dove for her brother, scratching and pummeling him. The parents were too shocked to do anything. “Alyssa!” Adrian cried. “Stop!”

Matthew was covering his eyes. Shelly gaped at the scene. “Help!” Adrian screamed, attempting to push her off him, but he didn’t have the strength. I could tell nobody was going to do it, so I pulled out my pistol and shot her in the head. She stopped moving and Adrian shoved her away, scrambling to his feet. Thunder roared. Tears streamed down his face. “A-Alyssa?” He whimpered. He covered his face with his hands, blubbering gibberish. Blood covered the dirt. Her eyes were back to normal, but completely lifeless. Adrian trudged over to me, swiped the pistol from my right hand, raised it to his head and pulled the trigger.

9

 Nobody said a word for a minute. We were staring at Alyssa and Adrian’s corpses, ears ringing from the shot. “N-n-n-no,” Matthew said, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Please, God.” He fell to his knees, eyes staring straight ahead, not at the Sphere, but at the road behind us. Shelly joined him, both performing the thousand-yard stare. I looked at my feet and back at them. “I’m s-s-sorry,” I said softly. “They were…great kids.”

 They didn’t respond. “Do you want some extra food?” Chester offered. Again, no answer. “Water?”

 Matthew spun his head around. “GET THE HELL OUT HERE!!” Chester and I jumped a mile from the cry of grief and turned tail and ran, not looking back.

 It was sundown. Chester and I hardly spoke. All I could think about were the kids. We found a truck stop and searched for supplies; our minds still scarred. When we grew tired, we decided to sleep. I slept at the end of an aisle and he slept at the other end of the aisle.

 “Do you think it’s worth it?” Chester asked, suddenly. I sat up. “What do you mean?” I questioned.

 “Making our way to Mississippi.”

 “Yeah,” I replied. “We can get there. We just have to tell our minds we can.”

 Chester sat up too. “Are you blind, Mason?” He demanded. “Have you not witnessed what happened to the Pattersons back there? We’ll probably find some more survivors, and then they’ll look at that thing and the same cycle will repeat, and repeat, and repeat, and repeat! That sphere is tearing me apart. Mississippi is way too far to travel to, we’ll most likely be dead by then. Why can’t you get that through your thick skull, huh?”

 His speech made me feel uncomfortable. “C-Chester,” I started. “We will reach Mississippi, okay? You can’t let that thing in the sky get to you. Look, you’re not wrong. What happened to the Pattersons messed me up, it really did. But you can’t dwell on that, we’re a team; we can get through this, together.”

 “It wants me, wants me to look at it,” he said with a blank expression. He scrambled to his feet and walked to the sliding doors. “Chester!” I cried. “Don’t!” I chased after him and before the doors slid open, I tackled him to the cold floor. “Please!” I wept. “You’re all I have. Don’t do this, please.”

 “Sorry,” he said with lifeless eyes as he pushed me off with his enormous strength. Before I could get back up, he kicked me in the face, leaving me in pain, hands pressed against my mouth. I tasted blood and gasped when the sliding doors made the sound of someone entering. He was outside, facing the Sphere. He was gone. Chester turned around. His eyes were bright red and foam came out of his mouth. “Chester?” He shook and pulled out his pistol, aiming it at my head and fired.

 He jerked at the shot and fell on the ground. A bullet hole appeared in one of the metal shelves behind me. I was confused and too shocked to speak at the same time. Through the window, stood a tall man wearing a black trench coat with blue jeans. His hair was short and a bit messy; a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose. “I’m Kieran. You okay?”

 I had trouble getting anything out. “Y-y-y-yeah, thank you,” I stammered as I got to my feet. “You saved me.”

 “Not a problem,” he replied. Then it hit me. Tears formed in my eyes and I let it all out, constantly sniffing and wiping the tears from my eyes. “He was…my friend.”

 Kieran hesitated. “Oh,” he sighed. “I didn’t know. But he was trying to kill you. Here,” he gave me his hand. I took it and I wiped dirt off my pants. “What are you doing out here?” I demanded, sniffling some more.

 “Was about to ask you the same thing. I’m looking for people to join me. I have family in Galena, Kansas.”

 “Why are you so far from Galena?”

 “I couldn’t find many people. The ones I did find were messed up and I knew they would turn their backs on us. Can I trust you to accompany me?”

 It seemed to me that I didn’t have much of a choice. Without Chester, I would never make it to Mississippi by myself. Something about this man seemed right, trustable in a sense. “You can trust me,” I said. Kieran smiled and handed me a pair of sunglasses. “These will protect you from that thing in the sky.” I accepted it, thanking him and putting them on.

 Around the corner of the truck stop convenience store was a yellow Hummer. “I have three gas cans full of gas in the back,” Kieran told me. “That way we won’t have to go through the trouble of looking for gas stations along the way,” he said as he hopped in the driver’s seat. He shoved the key in the ignition. “Hey,” he said. “You never told me your name.” Buckling myself in, I responded. “Mason. Mason Duff.”

 “Nice to meet you,” Kieran said as he stuck out his right hand for a handshake. I shook his hand and he ignited the engine. I didn’t look back at the truck stop as we drove away.

10

 Dawn arrived. My eyes could barely stay open. We passed a sign that read WELCOME TO COLORFUL COLORADO. “Hey,” Kieran playfully hit me on the shoulder. “Don’t fall asleep yet. We’re in Colorado. Plenty of beautiful views here; I’m from Boulder, trust me.”

 Exhausted, I responded with a nonchalant “Cool” as I rested my head on the window. A sign up ahead read BEDROCK and Kieran let me know because I was resting my eyes. We were no longer in the middle of nowhere and were now in some small community. Kieran stopped the truck in front of a small building with a sign above the door, reading BEDROCK STORE. He noticed I had a pistol in my holster. “Keep your gun in your hand, there might be people here. Let’s search for supplies and get back in the Hummer.” I nodded in understanding and opened the passenger door.

 “I’ll search over in these buildings, you search the store?” Kieran offered. “Sure,” I agreed, yawning.

 The store was a mess. Items were scattered all over the floor. People must’ve lived here, I thought. On the front counter, there was a first aid kit. “Jackpot!” I exclaimed. I opened it but was angry when it was completely empty. “Son of a bitch.” I kept looking around. There were souvenirs all over the shelves that looked like they have never been touched. Behind the counter was (of course), the cash register. A photo of a father and son resting against the register hit me hard. “Where are you guys now?” I asked myself.

 I left the store, frustrated that there wasn’t anything that we could use. Kieran was already outside, leaning against his vehicle. “Anything?”

 I shook my head. “Just a bunch of smashed stuff and useless souvenirs. You?”

 “Nothing. Let’s get out of here.” We hopped back into the Hummer and continued our journey to Galena.

 To our luck, Kieran’s built-in GPS was working properly. On the screen, it read: MONTROSE, 10 MI. “That’s not that far,” I said. “We’ll be there in no time.”

 It was quiet for a few minutes until Kieran broke the silence. “So,” he started. “Why were you out there in the middle of nowhere?”

 “My friend, Chester and I were making our way to Mississippi because it was very rural, and we thought we’d be safe there. We started in Seattle and finished it in Utah. It was a stupid idea from the start, I’ll admit that. Anyway, he…lost himself. Lost hope. Maybe the Sphere can tempt people, I really don’t know.”

 Kieran was quiet for a moment. “Damn, that’s rough, man.” Trying to break away from the depressing topic, he asked me another question: “Where are you from?”

 “Seattle, born and raised a Washingtonian. You?”

 “Don’t you remember? I said I was from Boulder,” Kieran chuckled, looking at me. “Where the hell is that?” I grinned, feeling a bit better already.

 “Colorado,” he replied, shaking his head. “Where are your parents from?” He asked, pursing his lips. “My dad grew up in Poulsbo, a city in Washington. My mom is from San Jose.”

 “San Jose,” Kieran smiled and nodded, looking at the horizon. “I’ve been there many times. I’ve always wanted to retire there.”

 We talked for a long time. About hobbies, which movies and video games were our favorite, we talked about which celebrities we had crushes on as if we were teenage girls, about our favorite restaurants that used to be flooding with customers, the list goes on. The GPS told us that a municipality called Montrose was approaching us, and that made us happier because that meant we were closer to Kansas, and more importantly, sanctuary.

 Before two in the afternoon, we were in Montrose, scavenging, hoping to find anything that would be useful. This time, to be safer, Kieran and I searched a grocery store, expecting nothing to be left, but we did find some essentials: four bags of bread, three cans of beans, seven chocolate bars, and lastly, four water bottles. Both of us were satisfied that we were successful in finding supplies that would benefit us on our way to Kansas.

 I was going to say something to Kieran when we were back in the Hummer, but my parents entered my mind and the thought of them not even knowing if I was okay or not bothered the hell out of me. I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed my dad. The phone rang for a while until it went to voicemail. I tried again, and again, and again until I gave up. Same outcome for my mother. I sighed and slipped it back into my pocket. “I think…” My voice trailed off. “I think they’re dead.”

 “Don’t think that!” Kieran exclaimed. “I’m sure they’re fine. Maybe they have no service on their phones or maybe…their phones are dead. Who knows?”

 “I guess you’re right,” I murmured. “I’ll take some deep breaths.” Kieran pat me on the shoulder. “Good idea,” he smiled.

 About twelve hours later, Kieran and I reached Garden City, Kansas. Keeping my eyes open proved to be difficult, and no matter how many times I offered to switch seats with Kieran, he refused, saying “I don’t want you to scratch my baby.”

 As we drove through Garden City, I thought less of this city more and more. It looked like a redneck Los Angeles. The city seemed to be desolate. Kieran opened his mouth to say something when he hit the brakes in the middle of the road. In front of a barber shop, dozens and dozens of people, all dressed from head to toe in black. All of them were bald. They wore sunglasses were looking up at the Sphere and pointing at it, chanting: “Help us Mason! Help us!” They looked delusional, as if they were on a bad trip. Kieran rolled down his window and shouted to them: “What are you talking about?”

 One of them turned to him and responded. “It will save us! Have faith in It!”

 Kieran and I exchanged glances. “What does he mean by that?” I asked him. He shrugged. “They’re just messed up in the head. Let’s press on.” He continued driving through the city. I looked back at the people and they kept shouting at the Sphere, hoping it would hear them. “Do you think they’ll follow us?” I asked Kieran. He shook his head. “No, they won’t even know where we’ll be in ten minutes. We’re fine, trust me.”

 Later, we were in Independence, a city in Montgomery County. It looked very similar to Garden City. Some buildings were ablaze. Gazing outside at this city, it made me think of Seattle and what it looked like now. People were killing one another in the streets, fire was everywhere, hell surrounded us. But we made it out. Kieran was driving us through this desolate city, relieved that Galena was just an hour and a half away. My eyes focused on something to the right of me. A group of people, all dressed in black, staring at the Sphere, bowing down to it, screaming, some were crying. I gaped, too shocked. They were the exact same people that we saw in Garden City.

 

11

 “Floor it, Kieran!” I exclaimed. A sudden fear inside me grew in the pit of my stomach. That’s impossible. The exact same people. They wouldn’t have beaten us to it, I thought. “Wait, why?” He asked and then floored it as soon as he laid his eyes on them, breathing heavily. “What the h-h-hell is going on? How did they know your name?!” Kieran cried.

 We were panicking on the way to Galena. “The Sphere has to be playing tricks on us,” I said. “There’s no way this is real.”

 “I hope you’re right, Mason,” Kieran replied, his eyes filled with worry. Before we knew it, we were in Galena, finally. We parked in the driveway, stepped out of the Hummer and walked to the front door. Kieran turned to me. “We’re safe, we’re away from those strange people.” He knocked on the door and our jaws dropped when we saw who opened it. The man that briefly spoke to Kieran earlier was standing right in front of us. “My name is Emmanuel. I am the founder of Mercy’s Gate. Come inside.”

 This can’t be possible. “Let’s go, Kieran,” I said. We turned around but stopped and gazed at what was all around us. Thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of bald men and women dressed in black robes surrounded us, their expressions grim. “I assure you,” Emmanuel said. “Please, come in. You’re clearly confused about all this and I can explain to you two what’s going on.” Kieran and I certainly couldn’t turn back, so we had no choice but to listen to the strange man and enter the house.

 “What do you want?” I asked the man. He smiled at us and told us to sit down at the kitchen table. We did, and Kieran was glaring at him. “Like I said,” he said calmly. He locked eyes with me. “I know why It’s here, Mason.”

 My eyes narrowed. “Wait,” I rested my hands on the wooden table. “What…do you mean by that?”

 Emmanuel’s eyes widened. “You don’t know that It can save us?”

 “What the hell are you talking about?” I demanded, glaring at him just like Kieran was.

 Emmanuel hesitated and spoke: “Since the dawn of time, that Sphere has appeared has been here. It originates from a different dimension, we don’t know where exactly, but not from ours. The Sphere happens to be a cosmic being. We don’t have a clue what the Sphere’s dimension looks like, or if there are other floating black spheres that will eventually arrive to Earth. It must have chosen us. It wants to save us from the Gates of Hell. You two can’t do anything to stop it, it’s already arrived to let us ascend to Heaven. All we must do is wait for it to end the world.”

 My mind almost exploded from what he said, and even though this whole thing was crazy, I believed him. “So…you’re telling us that black Sphere up there is an alien?! From another dimension?”

 Emmanuel nodded. “It appears so.”

 All this was too much for me. I stood up and unholstered my pistol, aiming it directly at his head. He stared at me with such a stern, haunting expression that forced me to put it away. “I’m sorry,” I said softly.

 “Why is It even here in the first place?” Kieran demanded.

 “None of us know, child,” Emmanuel responded. He took a breath to say something else, but I stopped him. “I saw something. It was a young boy. He kept telling me to look at the Sphere. My group was sleeping in an abandoned convenience store, and in the middle of the night, a boy standing in the doorway, assuring that I stare at it. I approached him and as soon as I entered the room, he was gone. Who was he?”

 Emmanuel blinked. “What did he look like?”

 “His clothes were tattered, he had messy hair, and he looked about eight.”

 “That was a hallucination, caused by the Sphere,” Emmanuel replied. “It tries to inject fear into you, tries to tempt you to look at it. Even though it wants us to all kill each other, there’s a good side of it. Not everyone is perfect, Mason.”

 Kieran spoke. “How do you get rid of it? There has to be some way to do it.”

 Emmanuel frowned. “You can’t get rid of it. This gift to us will remain in the sky forever. All we can do is wait for it to grant mercy upon us.”

 Confused beyond belief, I sighed and scooted my chair out, standing up. “I don’t buy it; you guys are living in a fantasy. C’mon Kieran.”

 Emmanuel stopped me. “No! Please listen. You must listen.” He stood up, blocking the front door. I pushed him aside and opened the door, not caring if his cultists were still surrounding us. But they were gone. Thousands of them, vanished into thin air. “What?” I questioned. I turned around and Kieran had the same expression I did. “Where the hell did they go?” Kieran asked. “Were they even real?”

 I nodded. “I don’t know what to believe anymore. Where else would your family be?”

 Kieran replied but I couldn’t understand what he was saying. He was speaking some language that sounded nonhuman, as if he was an alien from a sci-fi movie. “What?” I asked, extremely confused. “What the hell are you saying?”

 Kieran’s eyes stared straight ahead, speaking even quicker now, leaving me puzzled and scared at the same time. “Kie-” I fell on the ground, holding my stomach, wheezing. I couldn’t breathe. “H-h-help!” I croaked, blacking out.

12

 My eyes opened. I was in outer space, floating. Earth was under me. In front of me was the Sphere. I shut my eyes regardless of wearing my sunglasses. It was giant. Even bigger than it looked back on Earth.

 “Do not fear, child,” it said to me. Its voice was deep and barely understandable, but I knew what it was saying. “There is no need to be scared. Nobody will hurt you when I am with you.”

 “How can I b-b-breathe in space? Who are you?” I demanded. This had to be another illusion created by It.

 The Sphere replied: “I am the creator of everything. I existed before space and time even existed. I don’t have a name nor an age. You may assume that I am billions of years old, but I don’t have an age. I was just there, existing, watching over the universe.”

 My mind nearly exploded from all the information I have just been given. “Why are people turning into psychopathic animals when they look at you? Why are you doing this?”

 “It’s my responsibility to watch over all life. I punish those who make poor decisions and hurt others. You have hurt others, Mason. You have hurt your dog, you put it down because you didn’t want him to suffer anymore, but that was a life, something I created. That’s why I’ve brought all this torturous misery upon you. Humans are monsters, Mason. Even worse than the monsters beyond our universe.”

 “W-wait?” I freaked out. “Monsters? You know what’s beyond our universe? What do they look like?”

 The Sphere replied softly. “I will not tell you, they’re too frightening. I won’t let them reach Earth, do not worry, child.”

 I felt as if the whole world was against me. “Why did you kill Chester, Alyssa, and Adrian? They were innocent!” I cried.

 “Chester wanted to go. He decided it was his time. That was his choice. Adrian chose to shoot himself; Alyssa’s death was accidental. Not every person deserves to live a fulfilling life. Speaking of death, when every human passes away, their souls travel to either two places: a happy place or a miserable place. All you must do is take off your sunglasses and look at me and you will travel to one of them.”

 “How do I know this isn’t a trick?” I demanded. What if I’m in a coma right now and all this is in my head?!” I was starting to lose it. “Take me back home! Wake me up! You killed my best friend!!” I sobbed. I flailed, feeling fury and grief truly take hold of me.

 “All you must do is trust me, Mason,” the Sphere said. “You’ll thank me in the end.”

 What if It was right? I could be free! I thought. Maybe this is the only option I have left. Chester’s dead, the kids are dead, Kieran’s most-likely dead, his family’s missing, I don’t know where mine is, I must do this! I took them off and stared at It.

 The scent of grass filled the air. I lay on my back and looked all around me and what surrounded me were miles and miles of grassy fields. The Sphere was nowhere to be seen. Birds flew in the sky. A rainbow was visible in the distance. I sat up and got to my feet. There was a tree not so far ahead. I approached it and picked up a shiny red apple. Biting into it, I smiled and made an ‘mmm’ sound as the juices dripped down my chin. The sky was never this blue before. I walked away from the tree and picked a dandelion, blowing it, giggling. “Hey!” A voice behind me exclaimed. Slowly, I turned around and there were Alyssa and Adrian, the two kids that tragically died, now alive and well, speaking to me, big smiles on their faces.

 “Mason!” Adrian cried. “It’s so good to see you again!” Tears welled up in my eyes. “It’s g-g-good t-t-to see you…too,” I replied softly. I was free. I was happy. I was home.

Author’s Note

 I wrote “In The Sky” because of my unhealthy obsession with Stephen King. A few years prior to when I read The Green Mile and Salem’s Lot, I grew fascinated with Stephen King. (By the time you’re reading this, I’ve probably already finished reading It. In my junior year of high school, I took a creative writing class and for many of those days, I thought about writing a story, not a story just for fun, a story to publish and make some money off it. One day, I left the classroom and sat in the pod, surrounded by other classrooms, brainstorming about what exactly I wanted to write. My goal for In The Sky was to make it as scary as possible, but of course, this wasn’t scary at all, more of a post-apocalyptic story about two friends and the amount of shit they went through.

 The main conflict took me a while to come up with. I went through several ideas but considered them ‘no good’ and eventually came up with something that I was quite proud of. The Netflix film, Birdbox and one of Stephen King’s most acclaimed novels, It, inspired me. So, I mixed those two books together and thought of something so sinister, so scary that if you stared at it, you turned into something, sort of like the deadlights from It.

 It took me quite a while to come up with something that wasn’t cheesy and overused. Since It is an alien or an ancient cosmic being, that made me think of adding an alien that was billions of years old that was very evil. Out of nowhere, a gigantic black sphere popped into my head. Yes, that would be the antagonist. Something so mysterious and eerie that was capable of so much. Just like Birdbox, if you looked at it, you lost your mind, just like the deadlights. I didn’t want to make the person who laid their eyes on it catatonic, that’s basically copying King.

 What made me decide what would happen to the human who looked at it made me excited. If you stared at it, your eyes turn red and foam comes out of your mouth. You turn into a murdering psychopath, killing anyone who hasn’t looked at it. I was extremely satisfied with that idea. Next up was characters.

 There was a kid on my high school cross country team named Mason who I found funny and an overall fun person to be around. For some reason, that name stuck with me, so I made the protagonist a thirty-something year old man named Mason Duff. He needed a deuteragonist to stick with him, so I thought of a clever, rare name. Chester. Chester Brown.

 I’m from Seattle, and to me, having books, shows, or movies be set in your area is something I find to be proud of for some odd reason. Bam! Seattle it was. The Sphere would appear in the sky in Seattle, floating there, creating chaos and the end of society.

 Mason and Chester couldn’t just remain in Seattle for most of the story, however. I came up with a place for them to retreat, a rural place where nobody would bother them. Mississippi.

 I had many doubts about that location though and the whole decision to travel there, didn’t seem practical, but they wouldn’t last a month in Seattle. Cities in dark times turn into an all-you-can-eat slaughter fest. I said, ‘screw it’ and went with it anyway. The plan was for them to reach Mississippi without any casualties, but I had to kill off Chester. The Utah section of the book was by far the darkest because that was when Chester and the two kids died, leaving Shelly and Matthew to grieve for their dead children.

 That changed Chester, completely. When Mason and Chester were in the gas station in Utah (still), Chester grew depressed and suicidal, saying that if he looked at It, he would feel better, something like that. Mason tried to stop him, but it was too late. He had no choice but to watch his best friend turn into something sinister and terrifying. That’s when Kieran, Mason’s companion was introduced as the new deuteragonist. They got to know each other and became comfortable around each other. The Mississippi plan was ruined, so Kieran told Mason he had family in Galena, an old mining town turned city in eastern Kansas. From here and on was rushed, I didn’t know what else to add that would make this book a page turner until I wanted to introduce a cult called “Mercy’s Gate” that believed the Sphere was ‘God’ in a way. They protested that the Sphere would save them from Hell and grant them eternal happiness.

 Only thing that would make the readers truly think was that when Mason and Kieran were in Kieran’s family’s house in Galena in the eleventh chapter, they were surrounded by thousands and thousands of them, which seemed unrealistic because there wouldn’t be that many by then. It would take a few years for a cult of thousands to form. Was Mercy’s Gate all an illusion or was it real?

 Confused and stressed out, Kieran and Mason walked back to Kieran’s yellow Hummer to plan what they would do next. This is when the origin of the Sphere was revealed. Having Mason float in outer space was a bit strange, but I didn’t have any other ideas. I wanted him to wake up in an endless black world, but the Sphere would be extremely difficult to see so I just decided that space would work fine. This part was very fun to write because this was the climax of the story, the part where I finally got to explain what the Sphere actually was.

 My goal for this origin sequence was to excite the readers and I guess, confuse them beyond belief. How come they almost never encountered the people who stared at the Sphere? Could they also have been hallucinations?

 After losing nearly everything, Mason gives up and removes his sunglasses and looks at It. A video game made a few years ago known as “Far Cry 5” was all about a religious cult and the game included a dimension called “The Bliss”, which was another world that made anyone that entered it happy and full of peace. That idea inspired me, so I decided to add that into my story to finish off the story with a strange, eerie, (hopefully) unexpected ending that made questions pop up in readers’ heads.

 In conclusion, this book was fun to write, and I enjoyed creating this tremendously confusing story. I promise that my second book will be longer, that’s for damn sure. Thank you for reading In The Sky.