Many events since the Wave cascaded the world, just understanding how to deal with terrans and magic, but in extreme lengths and simple minded ideals. The New York Riots preventing the rise of terran street gangs. The remnant effects of Marshal Law on America, terran Julio Cortez’s short lived revolt against Venezuela’s corrupt military, Buddhism connections to terran magic, and President Winchester’s Terran Equality Act. But the bloodiest event that seared how humans react against what they do not understand was the Utah Genocide.

On February 19th, 2013, news reports and social media sites reported and unknown religious extremist group capturing terrans from Prince, Wellington and Huntington. Chad’s family, from Pavo, were in Jerome on business trip so they were far from the chaos. Terrans were capable of fighting back with magic, but tasers to their spines seized their mana hearts for hours, easily dropping their strength to human levels and overpower them for easy capture.

Hundreds were taken, including terrans that were part of the group before transformation, as an echo of Marshal Law.

Eyewitness accounts revealed that the religious extremists—innocent civilians, children, the elderly—were active U.S. Military personnel in disguise. The leader, General Author Cameron—agnostic, married, father of three boys—lead the audacious campaign after posting a cruel speech on the Internet claiming “the alien infestation is ruining the American Way,” then admitted killing his own family when his wife’s tattoo emerged. He gave a stout middle finger to President Sarah Winchester on conference call.

The captured terrans were sent to a large clearing north of Carbon County and Prince. There, they were slaughtered, one by one, by guns, knives, mortar rounds, anything within an hour. There were other genocides across the world, but political and ethical views was too much of an impact on the public’s eye. The act was livestreamed and unstoppable, not even the National Guard got close as troops were stationed to fire at will at incoming soldiers.

Cameron wanted terrans to die, burned, and their ashes burned again to keep human life retained, despite what the science community published. Winchester, in approval with the House, Senate, stable military branches, and the newly appointed Secretary of Defense, issued an air strike on American soil. The heaviest decision she ever made, but the evidence on Cameron and his troops was overwhelming.

Amongst the charred earth and metal at the site, Jaruka was asked to look for extraterrestrial evidence on a hunch from Winchester through remote feeds from the dropship. Soldiers found Cameron’s headless charred body several yards from his head, confirmed by the wallet and ID still in his pants. Upon examination, Jaruka was without a doubt the clean cut was from a Reaper scythe, but not substantial if it was Griffon or some other Reaper. The evidence was not made public, even Jaruka did not tell Chad Fipps about the Reapers.

But they did catch Chad up on recent events, the kind of information Dunkan kept him from knowing. A new president, newly voted House and Senate to replace the lost, uncertainty with terran magic, anti-terran hostility in the military, constant fights in cities and towns of terran-human and terran-terran hate, and the huge commercial potential of terran magic items.

Not overlooking the obvious, the Titan Spires and Jaruka’s status was discussed.

Chad asked a few questions, but stayed silent the whole time.

“And now we’re here,” Jaruka said. “And my buzz is gone. Thanks a lot.”

“I still think it was a bad idea to give you that gin,” Xi’Tra said. “You don’t look well.”

Jaruka huffed and walked out. “Tell it to Brill, I need to take a leak,” he said before closing the doors.

“Poor guy,” Jano commented. “Must be rough living here.”

“Uh…,” Chad started. “Should I know about his species’ mannerisms, or he a drunk?”

The reporter shook her head. “Sober. Not culture wise, just personal issues. It’s complicated for his species from what I dug up,” Xi’Tra summed up. Chad could tell there’s more to Jaruka’s story.

“Interesting,” Jano said in junction.

A short pause and Xi’Tra asked, “Feeling better, Mr. Fipps? My species is magical so if you have questions, don’t be afraid to ask.”

Chad gulped, “I know my family is safe. Thank you.”

“Okay, good. Why don’t we restart where we left off, shall we?”

Chad nodded. He put the halo back on saying, “God I hate this.”

“The interview?”

“No, uh, sorry. It’s…I have to watch my back more than before. Being a terran is dangerous.” Chad paused, swallowing. “Miss, I want to skip ahead.”

Xi’Tra blinked and opened her notebook before saying, “How far?”

“Like up to Marshal Law. The next two years have nothing else from Griffon. We never seen him since that meeting.”

“So nothing important was discussed? What about celebrity status?”

Chad shook his head. “It’s confusing. I want to go straight to Marshal Law. This is something I have to say.”

“Wow.” Her reptile eyes blinked a few times, with two separate eyelids. “So what happened? What caused you and Maggie to disappear?” She asked with her pen ready and the device dinging several times.

Chad’s eyes expressed heartache that was locked away for months in a second. He held his head on his hands to say one word. “Betrayal.”

----------------------------------------

Like I said, nothing beneficial happened after Asteroid Helen’s public announcement and the next two years. The interviews were the same throughout, then became varied as Helen came closer and closer.

The hate mail and death threats rose every month. There was this priest, can’t remember his name, tried to threaten NASA to give up the real trajectory, which there wasn’t. We and they quadruple checked. He also visited the university one day while Maggie and me were at a conference in Berlin. The same guy that stabbed himself in the quad screaming something like, “Helen will bring judgment to us all.”

Maggie was hurt a little I think. She kept pushing with that filled with enthusiasm, but I was certain that when she was alone the pressure got her. But I stood by for I believed in her.

Then the Wave came. You probably want to know where we were if that’s fair.

Maggie was at an interview with CNN. I stayed at the office with Charlie Smith and Brian Wilkinson, the new students at the time. We freaked as the asteroid changed direction on its own. We felt confused as it didn’t kill us but send the Wave crystals. No explanation for the crystals, the orbs, the transformations.

I woke up under my desk with a charred hole through the desktop. Charlie was in the hall and Brian was in the adjacent office.

Maggie was hidden in a closet with the interviewer and the key grip. It took her hours just to get back to the university.

I had no answers for those people. They kept asking and then called Maggie and me traitors. Those religious freaks took their chance.

You know, I was never religious, but respected other people’s beliefs. Agnostic is the word. I have my view of life, they have theirs, and I move on. My parents raised me well. But that day, I had second thoughts.

The hard part was trying to explain everything that happened in simple scientific method. Magic breaks all known laws. How is it possible to break the Laws of Physics? How am I speaking to my subconscious that knows everything about me since birth? What is mana made of? Why are most of the students I’ve seen living out their magical fantasies while I am afraid for my life?

I did not transform afterwards and not Maggie and the guys, but I was more unsure of the future when Marshal Law was declared.

----------------------------------------

Physics and Astronomy Building, UCLA

December 23, 2012

7:49 PM

Griffon never met us since, but he called Maggie that night. Just her.

I did not hear the whole conversation, but Maggie was saying, “pulling out,” “sending someone over,” “issues with containment,” and “the protocol is his focus” through the door. Some made sense that Marshal Law was happening; lots of soldiers were on campus.

Me and the guys watched soldiers go door to door looking for tattooed people and terrans like high-prized terrorists.

Since the Wave, I saw three terrans: two college students and a janitor. I admit, the military was ruthless in their pursuit, almost as if this was the beginning of an apocalypse.

“Jesus Christ,” Charlie said. “There’s got to be over fifty jarheads down there!”

Hours ago, Marines came through our building, interrogating us where terrans were hiding. One gave Maggie a nasty sneer, I think. He wore a gas mask, and he smelled real bad. None of them offered to increase security at the stairs and elevators.

“The scary part is I can’t pick out a commanding officer, or their own faces,” Brian added. He alone had a gun. He and Charlie were Iraq War veterans. They were both agriculture majors, but we became friends since Helen’s discovery once they expressed their interests with astronomy. “They look like they’re from Pendleton.”

“From the south? Come on. They must be scattered all over Southern California.”

“And March. And San Diego. And Los Angeles. Haven’t heard jets or helicopters all day.”

“This is not making me feel good,” I said to them.

“Chad, get away from the windows,” Brian assured me. “You want to get hit by a crazy’s red brick? Go right ahead, but just get back.” It was uncommon seeing Brian and Charlie act like soldiers than students, their teamwork baffled me. I done WoW raids with clear communication and strategy, but this was too real to comprehend.

I had more concerned for Maggie, she’d been on the phone for over ten minutes.

“Makes you wonder if anybody’s coming up to get us,” Chad said.

“Good or bad? Take your pick,” Brian answered. “You sure somebody is coming for us? You’d think those Marines would take us and not make us sit here.”

“She made sure. They probably got stuck in traffic. The 10 is backed up all the way to Montclair,” I said.

“Chad, that’s bullshit,” Charlie said. “Whoever they are, they wouldn’t be in traffic. Is this NASA? CIA? For God sake, Chad, get some military backbone in you!”

“Would you two can it!? They are coming.” Maggie came back from the office catching my attention. “They said one minute.”

“What’s the excuse?” Brian asked.

“Something about containment getting in the way, but he was able to send someone.”

“That makes sense. Right, guys?” I asked

Brian and Charlie exchanged worried glances.

“Guys?”

A woman’s scream rang through the quad. Brian looked down from the window. “Another student is getting the tattoo. Some soldiers no…okay, they are carrying P90s. They are seriously carrying P90s.”

“What’s a P90?” Maggie asked. She too didn’t have a grasp on military or guns either.

Short gunfire occurred, loud to make Maggie and me duck.

“Oh my God,” Charlie said. “They shot her in the leg and are taking her away! I have money down she won’t last another minute with that open wound.”

“Stop betting on things,” Brian said.

I gulped. Universities are supposed to be violence free, not a death trap. I hoped that woman escaped. The thoughts that she didn’t make me sick.

Beyond campus, Los Angeles was imploding. Building fires in the clear night sky. Screams of agony and fear. Even now it’s still clear in my head.

Then a red light sailed over the university. A small shockwave rattled the windows. Another Helen? It couldn’t be, it was heading northeast. And it was true red.

“What the frick was that?” Brian asked.

“What was what?” An unknown voice said behind us. I turned.

He stood by Maggie, without a sound from his footsteps. He was dressed the same as Agent Bane and the black man two years ago, but much closer to my age. His black hair was frazzled a little. Maybe from stress…or in traffic. With all that going on, his complexion was not pale. He was calm, a bit too calm.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“You must be our transport out of here,” Maggie said.

“Yes. Now get moving. We spotted a mob heading this way,” he said, quick and to the point. “Grab what you can carry, we don’t have much time.”

We packed as much as we could into our messenger bags. Charlie and Brian carried very little. More violence rang outside as windows were smashed and lives were tormented.

“We’ll be safe at the site?” Maggie asked.

“Yes, very safe until this is controlled,” the agent said.

“What’s your name?” I asked, and I did not get an answer from him. Rude.

We walked fast to the elevators with the veterans looking over their shoulders. That same window outside the breakroom, I saw a man outside looking up at me, then ran for the entrance. Gun shots followed, had to be the agent’s soldiers, it had to be.

The elevator doors squeaked open, we entered, then they squeaked again. The last time I’ll hear that ominous sound again.

“I assume you have a small force to protect Dr. Helen and Mr. Fipps, right?” Charlie asked. “Hope you cleared those protestors hanging around last morning.”

“They were gone minutes ago, sir,” the agent said pressing the ground floor button.

“And where are we going?”

“A secure location outside the city. Dr. Helen and you three will be in safe company,” the agent said abruptly.

“Okay…Does Helen know where?” Brian asked.

I turned to Maggie for the answer. Was it Pendleton? In the mountains?

“Griffon said what he said. A secure location,” she iterated.

“Great, just like every government lackey in the country. Always secretive,” Brian added.

“Don’t be sure, Mr. Wilkinson. Trust me,” the agent said in the creepiest tone I ever heard from the man. “It’s very secure.”

Then, just from the voice, I realized he never looked at us since we entered the elevator. He stayed near the buttons, head crouched.

Brian turned to one side to face him, gripping hard on his bag. “How the fuck di-JESUS FUCK!”

As the agent faced us, he produced a low growl in his throat. But that was not what made my stomach drop like lead and Maggie screaming like a horror movie character.

The agent’s eyes were bleeding out of their sockets as he grinned. Blood stained his short and jacket.

“In my stomach…you delicious humans,” he growled, then lunged after Maggie with howling fury.

“Holy shit!” Charlie yelled. The agent sideswiped Charlie with his arm into the wall, denting it.

Maggie and me did nothing but scream. I was too scared to protect her. The blood was pouring from his eyes like a faucet. He screeched unlike any human could. His hands were inches from Maggie’s throat.

Then Brian body slammed the agent into the opposite wall, jammed his gun to the agent’s right temple, and pulled the trigger.

It happened so fast really. The sound made Maggie scream harder but came to me and used his chest to cover her face. The body slunk down its back, blood and brain chunks coated the wall.

We all breathed heavy until Charlie, rubbing his sore shoulder, said, “Okay. What the flying bejebus fuck was that!?”

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Brian aimed his gun toward the hall.

“You’re not helping, Charlie,” Brian yelled. “And I’m not staying here to find out. Chad, Maggie, get your asses up. I’m having a hunch this ain’t over.”

There was nobody at ground level. I was certain there were people, that guy coming in the building was shot.

Charlie collected himself and found a pistol from the dead body. “Damn, he banged my shoulder pretty hard. He shouldn’t do that.”

“Nobody here. That guy had us, or something. Charlie, take point.”

“Gotcha, Brian.”

“Dr. Helen, be straight with me. Who was that really on the phone?”

Maggie couldn’t speak. She walked beside me, holding onto me tight, even shaking.

“Lesson one during the end of the world you two: never trust anybody from the government. Me and Charlie know better. Now that they tried to kill us with whatever the fuck was that thing and there’s nowhere to go, we’re getting the hell out of here.”

Charlie walked back. “Got any ideas, Brian?”

“Yeah. My RV. We’re running.” He was the mastermind in our escape.

Charlie nodded, “Fair enough. Alright, stay close, guys. There might be more of them.”

“Agents or…whatever that was I killed?” Brian nudged his head back at the closing elevator.

“Either.”

For all other reasons I disagreed with, they were right. We had to get out. We had to protect Maggie.

We walked and ran through alleys and clearings of the campus. During the Wave the university had its share of damage. Smaller crystals were taken as trinkets or for scientific investigation, but larger ones were still embedded in the ground. The Inverted Fountain had a twelve-foot crystal in the middle. Some walkways were ripped apart. All the buildings were damaged, some were evacuated for safety reasons. What I knew of deaths was the library collapsing on a few students, but those were rumors, I hoped.

People saw us all the way to the parking structure, but none were after us. Too preoccupied with hiding from the Marines that all but disappeared.

Wait, where was the military? They were crawling over the campus a few minutes ago.

Brian’s RV was a brand new Coachman motorhome. It was parked close to the exit, Brain’s habit for being ready. I think it’s still in Oregon, or impounded for evidence.

“Quick, get in,” Brian whispered to not gain more attention. “So far so good, for now.”

“Too easy, I think,” Charlie said. “I’m not liking it.”

Maggie entered first, going for a corner far from the windows. Fear still shook her and that hurt me.

“Move it, Chad!” Brian whispered. I stepped in, then Charlie, then Brian, closing the door.

Brian started the RV and backed out. “Any idea where to go?”

I glanced through the tidy interior, hanging on to a ceiling beam as we moved. “Wait, what about food? Supplies?”

“I’m stocked to shit with freeze-dried packs, water, board games, magazines, books, fuel, and several paper maps. Guess where that came from.” He eyed Maggie and me. “Might at well throw out the cell phones, just to be sure. The feds can track them.”

“That too,” Charlie said. “Quick guys, hand me…Brian, look out!”

I looked at a bloody-eyed man running and slamming himself into the RV’s front. A hand gripped the edge as he crawled up, screaming at us and banging on the windshield. “Witnesses must die!” He repeated. “Where are you Helen, come and be my meal!”

I stalled my tongue. It was the guy that was heading into the building. He had no bullet wounds.

“Shoot the damn thing!” Brian yelled.

Maggie and me looked away as Charlie fired through the windshield. The RV hopped a little from running over the body before it crashed through the security gate.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” I whispered.

We drove out of the university as we watched more violence. If I didn’t know better, it was people against red-eyes (that’s what Brian calls them). Red-eye Marines against an English instructor. A teenage red-eye against several cops. A couple cars slammed into one another, both red-eye drivers sailing through the windshield, surviving, then attacking a patrol car.

There was more deeper into the city but all I wanted was to pretend I was dreaming.

I went for Maggie. She was still hunched, trying to ignore the world, and holding tight to a rail. “We’re out, Helen, we’re out,” I said.

“The blood…the blood,” she repeated. Really. When she sees blood, it’s traumatizing for her. As far as I remember, she never suffered any violence in her life to cause that fear, but from what colleagues told me it was her brother that died in the hospital coughing up blood from cancer. She was really young.

“Helen, please, stay with me.” I shook her shoulder.

She looked up. Her hair was frizzed from stress. Her eyes were swollen from crying. “How could he do this to me? To us? He promised!”

Griffon abandoned us.

The only supportive sentence I said was, “Brian was right. Come on, Helen, keep yourself sane. We’re almost out of here.”

Maggie sniffed. “H-Hurry, Brian.” The amount of fear in her voice nailed me in the chest.

“Good, good. Stay out of sight, I’ll be right back,” I said. I walked back to the front, keeping myself from falling as the RV turned. “Any idea where to go?”

“The city is a death trap,” Charlie started. “Where else can we go? I mean it’s not like we can hop onto the toll roads and run for the desert or the mountains. Not even a scientist safe house. Police, forget those corrupt assholes, I saw one rip a homeless man’s arm off a few blocks back, or a terran, hard to tell. Anyway, we need a remote location until things die down. Hopefully. And very remote.”

“Exactly. The more remote, the better.” Brian turned on the 405 north. He dodged several parked cars to get by. We were thankful the freeway was mostly clear to go beyond sixty. “There’s national parks, untouched land on the coast, but can be tracked and traveled by hikers. It has to be impossible to cross.”

“How about the north? Beyond San Francisco and Napa? That forest is thick and I doubt any loggers will farm up there with all this happening.”

“No, it has to be the least unexpected. Plus that’s pothead farmer territory in some parts, they can spot us.”

I had no experience with the north, not even Oregon or Washington.

Charlie looked back out, but sat up with his gun aimed out. “My God,” he said. “Take my words and shove them into Hell.”

More of Downtown Los Angeles was on fire.

The crystals caused significant damage, holes in buildings as big as ten stories. The U.S. Bank tower collapsed during the Wave; I felt sullen for the loss. I peered down from overpasses as streets were like out of an apocalypse movie or video game, with abandoned cars and panicked people, looting, rioting and fighting red-eyes and each other.

“Ah great, here we go,” Charlie said. “Chad, get back, we got more of those things coming!”

I looked up and stepped back, too scared to cuss.

Beyond the moving and unmoving cars, a small mass of red-eyes ran toward the RV. Police and military, but what disturbed me was the majority the ordinary men and women of all ages. Everybody had the same hungry, murderous expression, even the grandparents and babies. Holy shit, they were actual devil babies. All of them human.

And all of them looked straight at me.

“I don’t think I have enough bullets,” Charlie said.

“I have an semi-automatic rifle under the stove,” Brain added. “More in the upper cabinets.”

“Don’t,” I started, my hands shook. “Keep going. Just keep going and don’t stop.”

You might not have an issue, miss, but we value life. I told Brian to run over them because it was what I could only think of, and I never thought like that. Others assume I helped murder people. I mean it, miss, they were not human anymore.

Brian glanced up at me with a smile. “That’s the spirit!” He then floored the accelerator.

I looked away as Brian rammed into the mob. Tires rolled over bodies. I caught glimpses of red-eyes crawling up and Charlie blowing out their heads. Some with major injuries just kept coming. Maggie kept on screaming.

“Another wave to the left!” Charlie shot at two of their heads with his pistol before finding the rifle.

“You rifle, I’ll pistol!” Brian reached for Charlie’s gun, reloaded it with hand action I could not track, and started picking off red-eyes. “You know, with that second zombie, you never asked to blow out my windshield.”

“Do you care?” Charlie asked in between shots.

“Who gives a rats ass, Charlie. Keep shooting!”

I will point out they kept that up for a minute. Who cracks jokes during a hostile getaway?

“Chad, wake the fuck up!” Brian yelled. “Get Maggie under the bed in the back! I can’t stand her screaming!” Brian avoided an overturned semi, yet I followed his wishes.

Maggie was difficult to cooperate. She kept fussing over and over she was going to die in an RV, that those red-eyes would get her and rip her throat out. It was hard hearing those words from her mouth. I pulled her up by her arms to…

BANG!

The sound came from the front, and not from a gun. We looked back at a homeless man’s blood-drenched face and stomach churning scream at the windshield. “Helen, be my meal!” It screamed.

“Charlie, we got a hanger!” Brian yelled.

“Da fuck I already know!”

Charlie spun and aimed, but the man jumped over the window before Charlie’s bullets clipped him. He was on the roof.

“Shit they got smart. I can’t shoot with my hands on the wheel, guys. Take him out!” Brian yelled.

“How did he jump like that?” I asked.

“Who fucking cares!” Charlie passed the former agent’s gun to me. It felt heavy. “You’re helping this time. Ever shot a gun before?”

“Once. My uncle took me out hunting.”

“Good. Don’t mistake me for a 10 pointer. Now shoot!” We aimed our guns at the roof and fired at the footsteps. I wasn’t used to the recoil, my arms and shoulders ached with pain. I haven’t fired a gun since I was thirteen. It was before I loved science by the way. But the pair was forethought, I was protecting Maggie for once.

In the moment making holes in the roof, Maggie ran for the small bathroom screaming. Good, she’s safe in there.

My gun clipped empty, as did Charlie’s. The roof was Swiss cheese and the footsteps stopped.

“I think we got him,” Charlie said. “Did you see him fall backwards?”

“I’m too preoccupied to know that. Check yourself!” Brian yelled.

“You check yourself!” Charlie retaliated, just as an arm from the roof grabbed his jacket collar. Charlie yelled as he was picked up from the floor and thrown to the dining table. I yelled and fell backward after Charlie’s foot clipped my face.

The hand retracted, then metal and plastic bent and broke as the homeless man ripped a hole in the roof. Eyes and arms were oozing with blood as he expressed pure, animalistic rage. He jumped down without breaking his ankles.

I cursed and crawled backward. The guy was thin to show me his bone structure. He had no muscle! His white hair was matted and shaggy so much that it needed to be clipped off.

“Asshole!” Charlie yelled. “Where’s the extra clips, this guy’s in—“

I lost attention from everything except the man. The smell…I can still remember that smell. The same smell as the agent from the university. Rotting flesh. The streetlights and fire outside casted light on his face and skin, clammy, and falling apart. Memories clicked. I once took a Biology class to witness the stages of decomposition. This guy could’ve been dead for fifteen days at least, yet he had the strength to get inside and able to see without his…

Oh God. His eyes. I almost forgot. He had no eyes!

The homeless man went for Charlie before he pulled the rifle’s trigger. The man pulled it from Charlie’s hands, bent the rifle in half with his foot, then twisted Charlie’s right wrist. Bones snapped through the RV. “I’ll come for you later,” he said as Charlie screamed.

The man turned back to me. His neck bulged with blood vessels.

He reached down and picked me up by my shirt. My toes barely touched the carpet. That smell infuriated my stomach.

“Where…” He growled before cracking his neck. “Where is she?”

Maggie…

Something hit the man in the back as wood splinters flew. Charlie held the remains of a drawer with his good arm. Then the man punched him in the chest, sending Charlie flying to the front and crash into the dashboard. Brian kept on driving. No matter what, we had to keep going, even with a red-eye in the RV.

“Chad, do something!” Maggie yelled. The red-eye turned to her voice, in the bathroom, and smiled with a growl.

“Thank you,” he said to me.

“No!”

He threw me toward Charlie, landing on his legs. Charlie banged his head on the dashboard.

“I’ve always pegged you the weakest,” the red-eye said. “Always by her side, looking up to her, but unable to protect your idle. How vexing. You aren’t worth killing or controlling.”

I had a moment to take in his words. How did he know she was my idol? I never said that until I met you, miss.

Sirens came from behind the RV, closer and closer. “Shit. Cops!” Brian yelled. “Five cars, each with a guy out the window and…and with semi-automatics!”

“Finally, my backup has arrived,” the red-eye said.

Brian’s side-view mirror was shot off and he jerked the wheel to avoid a car on fire.

I tried to get up to stop this man from reaching for Maggie. I had no idea how. I yelled from pain in my swollen shoulder.

The red-eye walked slow to the bathroom. His right hand tensed and flexed with blood, dripping onto the carpet. The same hand that picked me up. I’ll tell you, that fear coursed through my pinned body. The man was dead right. I was useless. I had nothing.

He opened the door, slow. I couldn’t see Maggie but I imagined her scared shitless next to the toilet, too scared to fight for herself. I heard her crying.

“Go away!” She screamed. It resonated through me.

The red-eye laughed. He then gargled flew and spat mucus and blood on the floor before saying, “Scapegoats are fun to abuse.”

Chills went through my spine like a roller coaster. That voice. That very same voice. I heard Griffon’s voice. It couldn’t be…

Despite the pain, I got up and ran at the guy yelling with a plan. “Get away from her!”

I was about to tackle him to the floor, until he ducked and punched me in the chest. My body pounded against the refrigerator. My breath left me.

“Pitiful, even for a smart human,” he said.

All at once, the gunfire from outside, Brian’s cursing, Charlie’s attempt to get back up fighting, and the heavy scream from Maggie as I slunk down clutching my chest. I think a rib snapped. This was it. I was done.

I looked up before the red-eye killed Maggie. A quick shot of blue light rippled through the sky and clouds.

All a sudden the red-eye started screaming in pain. The man held his head tight and thrashed everywhere, nearly stepping on my legs. I then heard the police cars crashing into cars and street dividers. The gunfire stopped, but a echo of screams across the city flowed by. They were from the red-eyes. You never forget that sound.

“Get out of my head! Get out! Out! Out! Out!” He repeated those words over and over, slurring like any homeless man. Brian and Charlie were confused as me, and I wondered if Maggie was too, or not.

Then the red-eye started bashing his head on a wall several times. With each blow his screams increased.

“Can someone shut that piece of shit up!?” Brian yelled.

The red-eye’s screams intensified like a pressure cooker whistle until the right side of his head exploded. Literally. I avoided most of the blood, skin and bone. He fell backwards. Dead as ever.

A much louder, terrifying scream came from the bathroom. I scurried onto my knees, keeping myself from taking heavy breaths. “No!” I said.

The rest of the blood and brains went into the bathroom, and onto Maggie.

As she screamed, she had a violent seizure. I never seen that in my life. It was impossible to make her stop.

And we kept going, out of Los Angeles, out of Southern California, as Dr. Maggie Helen, my idol and boss, was gone.