She immediately turned to glare at him. Have her son lead the Faction? Force him to do what she was forced to do? To sacrifice so many and so much under the mirage of absolute strength?

To risk his life with the monster that nearly killed him, she thought.

Her mind travelled back to the painstakingly slow and heavy rhythm of her digging. Her bloodied hands dragging through the dirt as the sunset in the distance created shadows of surrounding trees. The leaves crying in the wind that pulled against her face. Her chest had been shaking as incessant cries spilled out of her mouth. She couldn’t think, couldn’t feel the earth in her hands; but the aching, throbbing pain in her body was too much not to feel. She was burying her daughter. All by herself.

Raechel closed her eyes and pushed it back down. “No. I just…I’m not going through this again.”

Ryan peered at her quietly for a moment. “What are you not telling me?”

She shied away, her muscles tensing. Everything.

He was under the assumption that she had lifted them to some random woods. A forest off the map in the middle of nowhere that meant nothing to no one. But this place…these trees changed her forever. If she told him why, they would change him, too.

“Love,” he said softly, “our minds have been connected for years. I know when you’re trying to hide something from me.”

She felt the presence of his mind on the outskirts of her own. She wanted to show him, but she hesitated. Connecting telepathically meant absolute empathy—being able to physically feel someone else’s emotions. Should she share this pain with him?

“Raechel, you have no right to do nothing,” he was starting to lose his patience. “Thirty years ago, we started all this. The day she leaked you killing that man was the day we fell into this hole. Now, we are the only powered strong and influential enough to take her down, and you agreed that you would do nothing?”

It was like a punch to the gut.

“You think I like this?” she yelled suddenly. “Ryan, I made a deal with the Devil, I know,” she stood up. “But I can’t lose him. I can’t lose my son.”

“Why?” he pushed forcefully.

She threw up her hands. “Do I even need a reason for that?”

He peered at her. “Yes. Because you’ve never said no to a fight. You were always the first one to run into trouble, the first one to help those in need. Then, all of a sudden, you surrender and agree to never fight again? Why? What do they have on you?”

Cries bubbled in her stomach. What did they have on her? Tears streamed down her face.

Ryan looked taken aback. “Raechel…?”

She looked into his eyes. He did care for her. And, he did have the right to know.

“I want to show you something.”

Turning without waiting for him, she headed toward the place. This was it. She was finally going to tell him. She had thought about how this day would go, but it didn’t seem nearly as terrifying as it was now. Every step forward seemed to be like two steps back. She was receding into the past, back to when the sun was setting, when the wind whistled through the branches. The crunch of leaves under her foot became too familiar and the trees started looking the same as the ones in her brain. When she came to a single yellow flower growing out of the ground, she stopped and stared. There she was.

Ryan was quiet. They’d seen enough death to know more than anyone else what was in the ground.

“Who is it?” he asked quietly.

She opened her mouth, but the tears choked the words back. She reached out to him with her mind, and he let her in immediately.

Our daughter, she cried. The weight shifted over to her memory.

Her bitter cries died down as she continued making the grave. She had to do this. So, the other one could be okay. She had to save one of them. She couldn’t lose another.

Save one. Save one. Her hands dug faster and faster, dirt flying behind her, until she furiously punched the ground. She wasn’t going to lose another. She had to let her go. Right here. Right now.

Satisfied with the depth, she lay on her back, staring at the trees towering above her. The rustle of the wind blowing in their leaves eased a bit of panic. She had to do it now, didn’t she? Taking a deep breath, she wiped her eyes and sniffed. There was a lot that could go wrong with this. She just needed to make sure that nothing she did hurt herself or disturbed the one that was still alive. He had to come out okay. She couldn’t lose him, too.

That thought echoed in their minds from her heart. I can’t lose him, too.

Ryan locked eyes with her through his tears. From their mental connection, she felt him put the pieces together: the residual emptiness in her eyes, the fatigue, the fear all made sense to him now.

She looked away, tears scaling down her cheeks. “After she took you away, they did some experiments. I thought that I would be fine, but…I didn’t have the strength to hide my pregnancy after a while. I thought I could for the sake of the Faction, but…”

She felt her stomach tighten. Remembering that far back would be too much.

“They killed her,” she managed to say. “They injected her with some sort of poison. I knew I was going to be fine, but…if I didn’t let her go, then Kailyn would have died with her.”

Raechel hugged herself. “I don’t know how I managed the strength to do it, but I got out of there and ended up here. And this is where I let her go.”

They both stared at the sad flower shivering with the wind. Raechel trembled with it.

“It’s her birthday today.”

After a light lunch, Piper enters the living room to do her homework. “Algebra, blah! How boring.” Piper places a few logs in the fireplace and sets the kindling ablaze. Soon, the logs are crackling nicely. Piper drapes a light blanket across her shoulders and sets to work on her studies. It’s not long until she drifts away into sleep between the algebra and the heat of the fire.

Piper’s eyes fly open due to a loud banging sound. She looks at the hall clock and sees it’s a quarter to five. “Mom? Is that you?” Her mother doesn’t answer. “Where is she? She left for the store this morning at ten thirty!” Piper hears the banging again and discovers it from a pine branch hitting the side of the house. The wind has picked up considerably. Piper’s heart pounds against her chest when the phone rings, and rushes toward it. “MOM!?!”

“Piper, darling! First of all, I’m alright. The storm came in so quickly that it caught everybody by surprise! Downtown traffic became unpassable in no time. Cars were stuck, just spinning their wheels. Do you remember Mrs. Dubois from church? Well I’m staying with her until the roads are clear. How are you doing? Do you have power?”

Piper turns on the outside light and sees a dark figure dart behind a snow drift. “Yes, I have power. I’m looking out the backdoor right now and see the wind is blowing hard. There’s a big drift across the driveway. In the morning, I’ll use the tractor to plow it out of the way for you.”

Madelyn stammers, “Please be careful! I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Piper chuckles into the phone, “Don’t worry, Mom. Dad taught me how to drive the tractor. I’ll be fine.” Her mother sounds a little calmer as she reminds Piper about the generator in the cellar. “ There’s some extra gas under the stairs. Okay then. I guess I’ll be seeing you sometime tomorrow. Love ya!”

“Love you to Mom.” After hanging up, Piper takes another look out the backdoor. Just beyond the casting of the backdoor light, Piper sees a pair of glowing green eyes reflected in the dark and thinks it must be a raccoon looking for shelter from the storm.

After a supper of a cheese and ham omelet and toast, Piper decides to check to see if the generator needs topping off. The wind howls, and the lights flicker.  Just as Piper reaches for the cellar door, they go out. “Damn! I was hoping that wouldn’t happen. Mom says there’s a flashlight in the junk drawer. Great! Maybe we need another little hook to hang that on, too!”  She feels around inside until she finds it and turns it on. The wind howls again, but this time, it sounds different, almost mechanical. Piper grabs the handle and jerks the door wide open.

Something about the size of a big dog sprints past the foot of the stairs, causing Piper to yelp. She slams the door and leans on it with her flashlight hand while turning the deadbolt with her other. Then she hears it. The fourth step from the bottom is the only one that squeaks. Something is climbing the stairs. Her eyes are wide and dilated with fear. Piper leans closer to the door to try and hear. Suddenly, there is a loud boom as if someone threw a five-pound bag of potatoes at the door. Piper scurries back so fast that she slams into the kitchen table, knocking over the ketchup bottle and sending the silverware flying. Quickly covering her face with the crook of her arm, the flashlight beam dances wildly in her shaking hand. “God! What was that thing? What am I going to do?”

Piper hears her father instructing her like he did many years ago. “What’s the first thing to do when a crisis arises?” Piper’s voice cracks with disbelief, “Daddy?”  The voice repeats, “What is the first thing we do when a crisis arises?”  Piper swallows hard and whispers, “Stay calm.” When he speaks again, Piper is sure her father has returned to save her. “What’s the second thing?” Piper responds with confidence, “Secure the area.” She jams one of the wooden chairs under the cellar door handle. Next, she locks all the windows and doors. Piper receives an impression of her father’s nightstand and heads upstairs. Pulling open the nightstand drawer, she finds a white envelope with a key inside. The tag on the key reads trunk. Knitting her eyebrows together, Piper thinks hard. She looks at the bedroom closet and thinks, “Your old military locker?” She slides open the closet doors and pulls the locker into the room. Her hands tremble as she unlocks it. Opening the lid, Piper finds a black turtleneck sweater, black toque, grease face paint, and night goggles. It doesn’t take her long to figure out she is supposed to use these items. Picking up the sweater, her eyes widen when she sees her father’s MRI .44magnum Desert Eagle.

Piper puts everything on the bed, including an extra clip of bullets. In the master bath, she puts on the sweater and covers her face with the black grease paint. Next, she tucks her blonde hair beneath the toque and puts on the night goggles. Shutting off the lights, Piper is amazed at how clearly she can see everything in the dark. Something catches her eye out the bedroom window. What looked like a huge snow drift behind the woodshed was actually a snow-covered spaceship. As she watched a door slide open, four more monsters descended into the storm. They huddled together momentarily before moving toward the house, their spaceship door closing.

Panic is gripping Piper’s heart! “Oh God! What do I do? What do I do?” But suddenly, she knows she needs to secure her position. Piper races through the house, shutting off every light until the only thing left is the fire’s glowing embers. She rushes down the hall to the downstairs bathroom and locks the door. Piper squats down in the tub, resting the heavy Desert Eagle on her knees. She waits.

The raging gale continues outside, but Piper can’t hear it. She only hears the sound of her own heart beating as she tries to remain calm. Piper keeps her breathing slow and steady, and then she hears the chair fall and the cellar door open.

At first, she could hear the creatures moving about the house. She knew they were looking for people. Finally, Piper hears small clicks and tweets as they communicate with one another. They come to a stop outside of the bathroom door. Piper manages not to flinch when the door knob is tested. Then there came a scratching sound and Piper knew the aliens were opening the lock.

When they finally get the door unlocked, they do nothing. Piper holds her breath to try to stay as still as possible. “They’re listening. I mustn’t move.”

The door creaks as it is slowly opened. Piper closes her eyes, afraid of what she will see, but forces them open again to be able to shoot. Long fingers wrap around the edge of the door, and the first creature appears. It is about three feet tall, though it is slightly bent over. The head looks too large for the rest of its body. The creature’s color is a shade of gray. Though its eyes are large, they are squinted as if it is trying to see in the dark. It waves its other thin arm with extended fingers back and forth as if trying to feel its way in the pitch-black room. The others stumble in behind their leader. The last alien stops in the doorway. Piper has an idea: if she shoots the one in the doorway first, the others will have a harder time escaping. The urge to shoot comes almost immediately, but she must refrain to be sure to kill them all.

Piper watches until they are almost in a perfectly straight line and pulls the trigger. The muzzle flash lights up the room, and the alien nearest her screams and shields its eyes. Piper turns her weapon on him next and feels something wet hit her face. In the chaos, Piper keeps firing, being deafened by the noise of the handgun and shrieks of pain. The Desert Eagle clicks three more times before Piper realizes it’s over. She steps out of the bathtub and slips in the goo covering the floor. Weeping, Piper walks into the kitchen and stands perfectly still. She removes the night goggles and sees the figure of a man standing before the fireplace, illuminated by the dying coals. “You did great, Kitten,” he said proudly and disappeared.

Shortly after Piper’s mother arrived home, the police cars began arriving, followed by shiny, black government sedans to record the incident of Mars Hill.