Janie and The Gray: Part 9
The highway. Part nine of my dystopian sci-fi serial.
We slowed at the shoulder of a divided highway. It was completely still apart from the tall, yellowed grass that swayed in the median. Both sides of the road were dotted with debris and abandoned cars — some charred and twisted while others were eerily pristine. The sound of the ship moved further away. Dimples signaled me to stop.
Gladly. Calm down, Janie. Just breathe. In 2-3-4, hold 2-3-4, out 2—
"Skimmer," he said quietly before turning to me. "Gotta move. You good?”
I lost my family and friends and dog and home and future. I was kept alive just enough to assemble parts for some extraterrestrial dishwasher. And now my impulsive escape got other prisoners killed and I’m being hunted by telepathic monsters that will boil me on sight. Doing great, thanks.
I nodded.
He bolted. I froze when I saw the alien hovercraft streak down the highway on-ramp — maybe a quarter mile away. Run Janie.
The ship’s weapon was unleashed — striking nearby cars with sharp, rhythmic crack-crack-cracks. I was ten steps from the guardrail when Dimples cleared it. crack-crack-WHUMP. An explosion threw me to the ground. Immediate pain, then darkness.
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