We were only a third of the way done with the house by the time the boys got back. They organized everything we had, then helped us finish. The sun was rising by the time we got done, and the snow started falling. I usually loved the snow, but it meant something a little different now compared to back then. Still, I wanted to enjoy everything I could. I always loved rain and storms, and snow and ice, so I would enjoy it.

  Everyone was exhausted and went to bed. After the events of the day—building the fire, the football game, the bombing, preparing the house—everyone was sleep-deprived and ready to sleep. I had gotten a pretty good rest, though, right after the game, so I stayed up. I shook Jacob awake to let him know I was going on a walk. He gave me a thumbs up and went back to sleep.

  I slowly stepped over the people in the living room and put on a couple of layers of gloves, a couple of hats, and layered the rest of my clothes. I wrapped the scarf around my face and stepped outside, locking the door behind me. I still had my gun with me in my waistband.

  As I stepped on the wooden porch, my foot almost slid out from under me. It was very slick underneath the surface. There was only about two inches of snow, but it was powdery instead of compact. I liked this kind of snow when it came to just looking at it. It was dainty and soft, but compact snow was good for doing everything else in. It's how you made snowballs, what's not to like? I could remember when the snow plows went to clear the streets. They would force the snow to pile up on the sides of the roads in such big drifts that sometimes it was as tall as you. Time turned it into a delusion, though. When you went to jump into it, it was rock hard. I tucked my hands beneath my arms and started to walk into the backside of the property. I could hear the occasional creaking of trees or faint droppings of acorns in the woods, but nothing else. The morning sun was bright enough to light up my path and bright enough to make me feel safe. It was really peaceful out here. Knowing I had a whole group of people waiting back at the house made it better, too. I didn’t have to be alone. For once, I genuinely felt joy, and I had nothing to do. I didn’t have to survive. I could feel my guard coming down, something my counselor had been trying to get me to do for a very long time. I remembered her words and stopped where I was. I found the nearest tree and sat against it, taking a few deep breaths and holding them. I listened to the silence around me and the pattering of the snow. I fell back into it. It was cold at first, but then it turned warm. I really was at peace.

  I didn’t realize it, but after I closed my eyes, I completely lost track of time. The rising sun got brighter, but that isn’t what woke me up. It was a very, very loud engine. Loud enough that it was hurting my ears a little bit. I immediately recoiled back into the woods, lying flat and low before I drew my gun and peeked out from the treeline. Snow was stuck to me from the layers that had accumulated when I was sleeping. There were huge trucks, bulky like they were owned by the army, driving straight through town. They were stopped at houses, houses that didn’t even have people living there. Technically, the population was only 7. Above them were helicopters flying in huge fleets at all different heights. They looked like flies swarming a garbage bag. What the hell was this?

  Trucks were stopped in front of our house, and I knew there wasn’t enough time to run back, sneak around, and get inside to warn everyone. There was nothing I could do. I looked above me, hundreds of helicopters covering the sky for as far as I could see, only they couldn't see me. I was hidden in the woods. I started covering myself with even more snow, my elbows and finger joints screaming each time I bent them. They were cold from being so still during my sleep. I didn’t stop, though, until I knew I was mostly covered; then I dragged logs and old bark sheaths over myself. I left a slit so I could still see above me. The snow was a lot heavier now, creating a whole blanket in the air before it even reached the ground. I could see the shadows of helicopters passing above me, and it was louder than ever. The spinning blades made the snow look like a mess. I closed my eyes tightly, counting my breaths to pass the time. I could hear gunshots through my pounding heartbeat, and I counted each one. One. Breelyn. Two, three, four. Emma, Phoebe, Jacob. I felt a warm tear slide down my face. It felt like ice by the time it reached the bottom of my cheek. Five, six. Andrew, Colton. Seven. Peter. After that, there were no more shots. I kept my eyes shut for what felt like hours. I counted each breath I had. I went through songs in my head until I finally drove myself crazy from the silence.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  I uncovered myself, my whole body aching from the cold and being compressed under the earth. I felt like a walking corpse as I got up and stretched my arms. My first few steps were shaky, but the more I moved, the better my steps looked and felt. I wearily stepped out into the path and looked around. Not one helicopter was left, and not one army vehicle remained. I ran up to the house, ignoring the hundreds of footsteps and red stains in the snow. The tire tracks and new snow cover had cleared most of it up anyway.

  The closer I got, the more I realized the whole house had been under attack. Each one of our vehicles had been shot up. Bullet holes in the sides, every piece of glass shattered, every tire flat. I looked at the house itself. Windows broken. Sliding glass door, broken. I wearily stepped inside, my gun drawn as I looked around. There was broken glass everywhere, and everyone was gone. There were blood splatters, but no bodies left. I walked down the hall and carefully pushed back every door. Nobody was anywhere, and all of the weapons lying out on the tables and next to people's pillows were scattered. I went up to the wall of the glass door and felt the bullet holes in the wood. What happened here? Where did everyone go? I turned around and stepped back outside, but my foot caught on a wire. I caught myself before falling to the ground. In the commotion, I heard a clicking sound behind me. I turned, and something shot into my arm. “Shit!” I gasped and stepped back.

  “Target found. Target found.” I heard a robotic voice start to yell. It repeated the same phrase over and over again. My arm was burning. I had been shot with something. I looked down to see that it wasn't a bullet, but a piece of metal sticking out of my arm. I ripped off the dart and looked a little closer. It had a black X on the metal portion of it and a flashing red light. It looked like a tracker had been activated. The longer I stared at it, trying to figure out what it was, the more I realized my vision was going blurry. I looked on the backside, staring at a clear glass line. There was a small amount of liquid at the bottom. It had once been full. I threw the dart inside and started to run into the woods. I ran as fast as I could, my vision getting blurrier and my legs slowly giving out on me. I started to feel like Jell-O.

  My gun was slipping out of my hand, so I brought my hands up under my arms. I tried wedging my hands underneath me with the little strength I had left in my upper portions, but they were giving out, too. I got as far in as I could before my legs turned hot and inevitably gave out from underneath me. I fell to the ground, flat on my front. I couldn’t move. I brought one arm up to try to drag myself, but I could only move it a couple of inches before I was 100% paralyzed. It was even getting hard to breathe. My chest was heavy, and I was lying flat on the ground. I had enough energy to keep my head turned to the size, but my blurred vision overcame me, and so did the poison in my veins. My thoughts all mushed into one. I had no energy to think anymore. The most I could conjure up in my head was a small phrase. You’re dead.