Starshine

“Again, this is not a drill.  The Emergency Broadcast System has been activated for this crisis!  We’re not quite sure what is going on, but we know that it is affecting cities worldwide.  London first reported it and it only happens at night!  Oh, Jesus, the sun is about to set,” the panicked voice of my favorite newscaster almost broke on that last word.  He firmed up his voice, seeming to stiffen his upper lip to deliver his final message.  “Please remain calm and whatever you do, get…” Static overwhelmed the signal, seemingly filled with high-pitched screams.  Then, nothing.

“Get what?” my sister, Andrea, yelled, grabbing the shortwave radio as if that could make the static clear and bring Ray Simmons back on the air.  I was still too shocked to react.  Simmons was the most deadpan, emotionless man on the planet - that’s why I liked listening to him.  He could be in the middle of a warzone and still give the facts in his dry, unaffected voice.  To hear him almost crying on air told me just how serious this situation was.  “Get what?” Andrea whined, shaking the device.  Imperial didn’t have a lot of people in it; I preferred rural cities to urban ones.  But someone must have heard what we had.  And if whatever was happening had affected Simmon’s native New York already, then that only left us with two hours to figure out his message here in Western Nebraska.  The sun was already making its lazy way to the western horizon.  Nodding to psych myself up, I pushed aside my panic and tried to focus.  We needed to start boarding up the house if there was an alien invasion of some sort.  ‘Aliens’ was the only thing I could come up with at the moment that would freak out Mr. Simmons.  But if it was aliens, why would it only happen at night?

“Andi, would you please stop yelling at my radio and shaking it like that?  You’re gonna break it,” I said calmly.  Old Ray would be proud.  “Give it here.  Maybe some other station can give us some information.”

“Sarah Hosanna Langston, how the hell can you be so calm!  You heard Ray Simmons!  He sounded two seconds away from a panic attack.”

“Yes, he did,” I admitted.  “And his last instruction before going off the air was to remain calm.  I refuse to lose my head when we don’t even know what’s happening.  Now, pass me the radio.  I’m the only one around these parts who listens to the news outside of the city, so we’re probably the only people in this town who know anything’s amiss.  Let’s see if it’s all a hoax or not.”  I snatched the radio out of her loosening grip and started slowly turning the dial. Most of what we heard was static, mixed with the terrified howls and shrieks of those who were already deep in the darkness.  A hysterical person was babbling ‘beware the stars’, but nothing else coherent.  Determined to keep my cool and not panic, I firmly shut off the radio. 

“We need to board up the house, Andi. Whatever's happening on the East Coast will be on us in less than 2 hours.  I'll start upstairs and you can get going on the ground floor.  Hurry up, now.”

“Shouldn't we warn people or something?  I mean-” 

“Would they warn us?” I snapped at her bitterly.  She looked away miserably.  She knew exactly what I was referring to.  The Langston sisters had become the pariahs of Imperial since our parents died and I'd rejected the three most eligible bachelors in town who wanted to lay claim to our ancestral land, which was some of the most fertile in the state.  No one would give me the time of day before it became public knowledge that me and my sister were ‘on the market’.  Unfortunately for all the men involved, we were taught our value growing up, along with the value of our land.  I refused to lower my standards just to have one of those mouth-breathing yokels get their grubby mitts on my family’s land.  The thought that one of them might love me never crossed my mind; I was always the outsider in town before Daddy and Mama passed in that car accident 5 years ago.  Hell, my own Uncle wouldn’t even claim us when it happened!  He’d stood by smugly as the courts tried to separate us from the land and each other.  But I’d dug deep into my reserves of stubbornness and kept it all together; an unforgivable crime in this town.  I didn’t care about our exile, but I know it got to my teenage sister.  She’d been quite the social butterfly before my parents’ death.

“Sarah, this goes beyond petty greed.  Something big is about to happen, something that’s probably going to change everything for everybody in Imperial.  We have to at least try to warn them!”  She turned those big, hazel eyes on me and I was a goner.  I could never say no to my sister when she pleaded with me like that.

And the conniving squirt knew it too.

“Fine,” I griped angrily, stomping my feet for emphasis.  “I’ll call into the local radio show!  But only if you start boarding up the windows and doors downstairs.”  I rolled my eyes at the big, bright smile on her face as she hugged me excitedly and ran to get the boards my father had prepared and stored in our basement years ago.  They were still good; Daddy was a paranoid type and determined to be ready when ‘they’ came for him and his family.

Sighing as I ignored the pain in my chest at the memory of my father, I went upstairs to the phone in my parents’ room and dialed up K107.6, the most popular radio station in town.

“This is Treena Talks and you are live and on the air, caller.  Why don’t you tell us your name and what’s on your mind,” a smooth, utterly feminine voice that never failed to grate on my nerves answered the phone.  Holding onto my temper, I answered.

“This is Sarah Langston and I just heard that something strange is going on over in New York.  The broadcast was cut before I could find out the specifics, but whatever it is, it’s big and it’s coming this way.  We only have until nightfall before whatever it is hits us.”

“Wait a minute.  Did you say ‘Sarah’?”

“I refuse to argue this with you, Treena.  I promised Andrea that I would share what we know - as little as it is - and I’ve done just that.  The rest is on you.” I hung up, not interested in the ridicule that was coming my way.  I knew no one would believe me, which is why I wouldn’t have bothered calling without my sister’s insistence.

“What did they say?” my eternal optimist of a sister asked eagerly.

“See for yourself,” I growled, placing the radio in her arms and turning the dials until Treena’s show came on.  Then I left to get the upstairs boards for the windows.  I missed most of the show, but I just knew that loud-mouthed bitch was bad-mouthing me.  Likely with her popular friends.  Instead of focusing on the bits of the broadcast I could hear from the living room, I used my anger to board up the windows in record time and pack a suitcase of toiletries and clothing for each of us.  I didn’t know how long this thing was going to last after all.

“That mean-spirited basketcase has finally flipped her lid,” Gregor Limms was laughing when I finally trotted down the stairs, suitcases in hand.  “Imagine her, trying to incite a panic.  I have half a mind to go over there and straighten her out.  This is 1987, not 1938.  And she DEFINITELY ain’t no Orson Welles!”  I angrily switched to another channel, careful not to break the radio as I did.  This was our only reliable source of information at this point.  Daddy had never bothered to get a TV for the house; he saw no use when there was a perfectly good radio available for half the price.  The sun was setting in a brilliant display of color across the sky.  Andrea and I ate a quick dinner while watching it.  Who knew when we would see another one?  Once the riot of color started calming down, we went down to the basement to wait whatever this was out.

“Can you believe…” she trailed off as she dug through her bag.  “Sarah, where’s my makeup kit?” she asked in an even tone that told me that she was about two seconds from exploding.

“What do you need with makeup in the middle of the Apocalypse?” I asked matter-of-factly.  “I figured the cold cream you love so much would cover you for ridiculousness.  I-”

“The cold cream is for my pores, you idiot!  I need my makeup!  What if Tom Cruise survives this thing and proposes to me?”  Her eyes widened as if she was listening to herself being so silly and hyping herself up to run upstairs.  And just like that, she dashed up the stairs before I could stop her.

“Get back here!” I bellowed, charging up the stairs after her.  “We don’t know what’s going on up there!”  We hadn’t heard much beyond the distant screams from town.  We weren’t close to town either so there was no way to know what the heck was going on.  Outside there were these big, bright, beautiful falling stars.  They seemed to explode after hitting the atmosphere.  The dust was trickling down to the Earth, but why would that…

The house suddenly started shaking, the roof disappearing before our very eyes.

“Andrea, come here,” I ordered her as I watched more of the house - our ancestral home - disappear.  I could see the moment her stubbornness kicked in.  “Andrea, please.  It’s not worth it!  Not even for Mr. Risky Business.”

“I’ll only be a minute,” she nodded to herself, bolting up the stairs.  I screamed as halfway up the stairs some of the dust fell on her and snatched her up as if gravity had just inverted.  I reached out for her, but the stairs were gone and I couldn't reach her.  Believe me, I jumped higher than I ever had, but to no avail.  We were both screaming; the last thing I heard from her was her apology.  Then she was gone.  Another star exploded over my head and more dust was trickling down toward me.  I was tempted to let it get me, but luckily my better sense kicked in, telling me that I couldn't rescue her if I was captured. 

I dodged the dust, running downstairs to get my suitcase before taking off in a sprint to the east. I wasn't the only one.  I was hitting speeds I hadn't seen since high school, and soon I was at the front edge of a crowd of survivors desperate to get away from the dust.  Looking to my left, I noticed the Renners heading for their tornado shelter.  A few others noticed as well and veered off toward them.  Those that made it, forced their way in and seemed to be safe.  Wishing that I had thought of that for Andrea and me, I focused on breathing through the burning stitch in my side.   I was watching the sky for dust and my feet for hazards when a pickup truck slowed down beside me.  And wouldn’t you know it, Howard Grendon, my arch-nemesis in this town, was suddenly yelling at me like it was all my fault.

“You should have-”

“I ‘should have’, nothing,” I gasped, fighting for breath.  “What I did do… was give you… ample warning that… something bad… was coming.”

“Only two hours warning!  If you weren't so selfish, I'd still have my wife!” 

“What did you… do with those… two hours, Howie?” I taunted, knowing that he hated that nickname.  “I don’t recall… anyone rushing… to do more than… make fun of me!  And my sister… got taken too!  Looks like I’m… Orson fucking Welles… now, don’t it?”  An ugly look passed over his face, but before he could lash out like I knew he wanted to, I noticed a bit of the dust about to land on his bumper.  “Watch out!”  Too late.  The truck disintegrated before my very eyes and Howard went to join his wife.  

The rest of the night was nightmare, trying to avoid that golden dust was hard enough without the added hardship of avoiding being grabbed by those that did get snatched.  Luckily, it happened too fast for people to get a hold of anyone most of the time.  But watching Gigi Smith get taken up with her toddler was heartbreaking.  I felt like I’d been running and dodging dust for years when dawn approached the Eastern horizon.  I couldn’t help my tears as yet another of those stars exploded in the sky and the dust disintegrated in the early morning sunlight.  I must have run halfway to Missouri by now and there were only a few of us left.  A little under two thousand souls in Imperial and barely 300 had made it out.

Exhaustion hung off all of us.  The night had taken its toll.  But I noticed the remains of a radio station.  There was a lot to be done before nightfall, but this one thing needed to be done before I set about securing shelter for myself.  Another of the survivors walked up to me.  I didn’t recognize him.  Which meant he likely wasn’t from Imperial - a point in his favor.

“Hi, I’m Darrel.  Darrel Livingston.  You look like you have a purpose for this here radio station.”  I grinned at him, wiping tears and snot off my face with a towel I’d spotted on the ground.  I flapped it beforehand and was pleased to discover that the dust didn’t have the same effect in the light of day as it did at night.

“I’m…  uh…” God, what was my name again?  “I’m sorry, my brain is refusing to work right now.”  I shook my head and was pleased when some of the information fell into place for me.  “My name is Sarah Langston.  I just feel it might be a good idea to warn someone about this… invasion?  I don’t know what it actually was, but it sure felt like some kind of fucked up alien invasion.  We need to dig?  Yeah, dig deep and to the side.  As long as the wind doesn’t blow we should be-”

“It was windy as fuck here in McCook.  The dust doesn’t scatter.  It also goes inert once it touches a surface.  Those are two facts I learned after I tried to go after my girl last night.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” I sighed, annoyed that my eyes were starting to leak from being tired enough to sleep standing up.  Not crying, mind you.  Literally leaking.  Damn, what was I doing again?

“We need to get all this information out to those left.  Hopefully, they won’t be able to take any more of us.”  Darrel and I - and a few others who were curious - went to the radio station.  It was in decent working order despite the events of the night before.  It didn’t take very long for us to be broadcasting.  Darrel set up the board and told me when to speak, setting the transmitter antennas for the widest audience possible.

“To anyone who survived the night.  Start digging.  Dig as deep as you can and to the side.  If your city has a subway system, set up there for the night.  You’re looking for an underground structure that can hold you and your people, but not a basement.  The dust from those cartoony-looking stars doesn’t scatter in the wind, becomes innate once it touches a surface, and seems capable of getting through any material on Earth.  But grass and dirt hold it off.  This is Sara Langston and I’m broadcasting out of McCook, Nebraska.  Dig as if your life depends on it.  Because it does.” An ugly sob tore itself out of my throat at that and I turned off the mic.  The horror of the night washed over me, and, combined with my extreme fatigue, I was unable to hold back my waterworks.  I squatted down in a corner, covered my face, and gave myself permission to break down.  

Everything else could come after a good cry and a nap.