Crying harder, Maya shook her head. “What are you talking about, Gerald? How could you have done this?”
“Oh, cut the shit. Look around you. This place is hell on earth now. I saved our kids from suffering.”
Maya ran her hands through her hair, her eyes burning from the exhaust fumes and tears. Gerald walked closer, and Maya moved back.
“There’s no reason to be sad. They’re in a better place. You want to spare them from pain, don’t you, baby?”
Maya wiped her face and narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you call me that, you son of a bitch.”
Gerald stopped only a few feet away from her and tilted his head. “But you’re my girl, right? You’re mine.”
“You’re a monster.”
“Yeah?” Gerald laughed. “That’s your opinion. But I know what’s right for my family.”
“We’re not your family. We don’t belong to anyone.”
Gerald shrugged. “Okay. Then Reno can’t have you either.”
And pulling an ax from behind his back, Gerald raised it over his head.
Maya screamed.
Maya gasped as she sat up. Her shirt clung to her clammy skin. She took deep breaths, trying to fill her lungs with oxygen. She couldn’t believe she’d fallen asleep amidst all the chaos, but she also knew her body was hitting its physical limitations. And the nightmare had not been coincidental.
The dream had felt so real.
Somehow, she managed not to wake Reno. That was good. He needed the rest.
She got up, quietly so as not to wake him, and walked outside.
Although it was still dark, a dull, light-infused glow had filled the inside of the dome, offering what was much like the gray light before a thunderstorm. Several people had gathered nearby, all looking in the same direction. Maya jogged toward them and looked through the trees in the same direction they had been staring.
About ten miles away, a circle had appeared in the top of the dome like a celestial manhole cover. The sunlight shone through, illuminating the top of the obelisk. Maya turned to a woman standing next to her.
“What is happening?” she asked.
“I think the top opened,” the woman said.
A man in his early fifties spoke up. “About fifteen minutes ago, we saw some natural light, and so we came out here.”
“The top,” the woman said again. “The dome opened, and it let in some light.”
Maya turned when she felt someone approaching—Reno.
“What’s happening?” he asked.
“Look. Above Centennial Park.”
“I knew it,” Reno said to Maya, his eyes lighting up the way they used to. “I told you that the government would find a way to—”
Beams of purple lightning flickered across the dome above them, and a high-pitched noise cut through the air. Maya doubled over and covered her ears.
Reno was saying something, but Maya could only see his mouth moving. Her teeth vibrated, and it felt as if the sound was going to split her skull in two.
And then it stopped.
Maya stood up, her head pounding. Some of the people standing around had trickles of blood coming from their ears.
“What is that?” the man in his fifties said as he pointed toward the dome’s zenith, where a dark shape had emerged, slowly blocking the sunlight.
Maya watched as something large and dark descended through the opening. Her eyes went wide.
“Oh, my God,” Maya said. “Jack was right.”
34
It filled the circular opening above the obelisk, blocking out any natural light that might have possibly found its way inside the dome. It was like nothing Maya had ever seen. Someone had passed around a pair of binoculars which gave Maya a better look from that distance.
The core of the object resembled a spaceship out of a 1950s science fiction movie—smooth, round, and with a low profile. But unlike those prop pieces that had dangled from fishing line, this one was real. Blinking lights dotted the surface, flashing in perfect synchronicity. What appeared to be thick, scaly patches covered the spacecraft, some thicker than others. Long, thin, antennae wiggled in the air with purple lightning silently erupting between the ends of them. Two triangular wings unfolded from each side after the craft descended through the dome’s aperture. Four conical thrusters blew thick, white smoke toward the ground.
“Is that military?” someone asked.
“I don’t think so,” Maya said.
Maya thought back to what Jack had said. He had warned them. Maya, and especially Reno, had shrugged it off. Maya had wanted to believe what the man was saying, she realized now, but she hadn’t been able to bring her logical mind to do so.
But he’d been right.
A light exploded from the tip of the obelisk, rotating like it came from the top of a lighthouse. The ship spun a hundred and eighty degrees as it descended through the smoky darkness, a door sliding open on the bottom of the ship.
Maya dropped the binoculars and covered her ears as a loud siren pierced the air, apparently originating from within the obelisk. She looked up at the monumental structure again, noticing that the spinning lights on top had turned red.
The ship descended until it rested on top of the obelisk. And then the siren ceased, and the aperture of the dome closed, this being followed by a painful and unnatural silence. An eerie calmness fell over Maya as she stared at the ship.
None of the others standing near her had spoken during their observation, and then one woman said, “I’m glad that’s over.”
I don’t think anything’s over.
The lights on the ship stopped blinking a few moments later, and a heavy, foggy, darkness filled the inside of the dome.
“You all sure that’s not the government?” But the man seemed less convinced of the ship’s earthly origins than he had been. “They could have sent that in here to get us out.”
The ship’s lights flashed on again, this time from a cluster toward what appeared to be the front of the craft. The lights danced and then rearranged themselves, forming a flashing border around an invisible, rectangular hatch.
“What’s it doing now?” someone asked.
Maya felt a cold sweat on her neck, and the inside of her mouth tasted like burning plastic. She made her hands into fists, and the muscles in her lower back tightened.
The ship looked like a flying skyscraper the size of a football field. Compared to the behemoth now docked on the top of the obelisk, the movement near the ship’s hatch appeared ephemeral—like ashes being carried into the air on the smoke of a campfire. More of the specks danced in the air near the ship’s hatch. The swarm began to thicken and then spread out, reminding Maya of a roiling mass of angry bees. As the flying objects spread out from the hatch, Maya saw that the swarm consisted of hundreds, possibly thousands, of what looked to be flying insects. But the distance to the obelisk had distorted her depth perception. Objects she had believed to be insectile grew in size, the closer they flew toward their small group of observers. Within seconds, Maya realized that the ship had dropped thousands of flying creatures into the dome, each one the size of a massive grizzly bear.
“What are those?” someone asked.
Some of the things began landing a few hundred yards away and then slowly walking toward them as if taking a stroll through the park. Maya had picked up the binoculars and could tell they weren’t human, but the rest of the people had yet to get a good look—including Reno.