Chapter 8(ish)

Billy

"Why do you think they brought us leaves and a dead squirrel, Billy?" Terry's voice shook in the dark.

"I don't know, Terry. I don't know." Billy and Terry huddled by the front bumper of the truck.

The woodland debris the aliens had presented to the two young men remained in the dark beside the driver's side door--or at least what was left of it. The damage to the truck was somehow vivid to Billy in the beam of light that entered when the door opened. Somehow he could see the truck in his mind better than he could see the creatures that came in with the light.

Billy knew the bumper he leaned against was two feet closer to the cab than it should have been, the roof was almost entirely ripped off, and the driver's door was a jagged hunk of metal. He could picture the smashed truck that had been the only thing of value he owned in the world clearly, even sitting in the dark. The way the truck was mangled it was some sort of miracle that he and Terry were alive; their clothes were ripped and soaked with blood, but somehow they didn't have any injuries underneath them.

Billy couldn't quite picture the creatures, though. They were tall and gray with bulging eyes high up on their heads. They didn't seem to wear a stitch of clothes. He could describe them, but he couldn't really picture them. Maybe it was just too much to picture.

Terry was blubbering in the dark again.

"Billy, I'm scared. I don't know what they're gonna do to us, I don't know how long we've been here, and I'm hungry."

Billy patted his friend's shoulder. "It'll be okay, Terry." Then he had a thought. "I don't know how we're gonna get away yet, but I might be able to find us some food."

Billy groped his way around to the mostly intact passenger door. It was hard what with the dark and the crumpling things had took, but he was finally able to find the handle and wrench it open. He groped under the seat, realizing too late that there was a lot of broken glass from the shattered windshield on the floor of the truck. He felt a sharp edge slice into his right palm, but then his fingers felt a slim plastic bag.

Billy jerked both his hand and the bag out from under the seat. He held the bag in his mouth and used his left hand to wrap remained of his shirt around his right before groping his way back to Terry.

"Have some jerky, Terrence." Billy thrust the bag into the dark toward the sound of wet breathing.

"Teriyaki or peppered?"

Terry didn't wait for the answer before ripping open the top, but Billy gave it to him anyway. "Peppered."

"Damn you," Terry said, "you never buy the good stuff."

"Then I'll take it all." Billy grabbed a handful of jerky as best he could without seeing it.

"Like hell."

They polished off the bag of jerky in no time.


Ready for the next part? Here's Chapter 9(ish)

Need to catch up? Here's Chapter 7(ish)