The End in the Mist

         I remember when They came.  The day They came to Franklin.  It was nigh on forty years ago now I suppose, I was just a young wee boy. 
         It was just me and Momma growing up in that lonely, rickety house.  Daddy had left us when I was six for a whore he met in ‘Nam.  Never came home, just sent us a letter, leaving the house to Momma, saying he was sorry.  The support cheque dried up three years after that, and Momma kept working, but she took another side job.  At the time I didn’t know what it was, bringing home a new man every night.  They changed that.
         It was about three in the afternoon in June, the TV had stopped working about eleven hours ago, the last reports Momma heard were of strange creatures encroaching from the Southern States up North.  She just shrugged it off, thinking it was hoax, I was only ten, and more concerned with my toys than the men on the television wearing stuff wool jackets.
         Well I sat on the living room floor, rolling a wooden car around and Momma was in the kitchen, making lunch for us; us being Momma, me and her friend James.  James was sitting on the couch, beer in hand and reading when the mist hit.
         “What the fuck!” he said, putting down his beer and book and getting up.  His long brown hair, tied in a pony-tail swished behind him as he went to the large window in the front of the house.  A thick, enveloping mist had descended on the house, and we both walked to the window to look out at it.
         “What is it?” I asked.
         “I don’t know.  Fog or something,” he replied, shrugging.
         With that, he went back to the seat and took his beer and book, intent in both.  I sat there for a few minutes longer before returning to my play.
         It was not until about five o’clock that the depth of what happened struck home.  The mist outside had been growing progressively darker for the past two hours, though it was still very bright outside, diffused through the thick fog.  Momma and I sat on the floor playing with some toys, while James stayed on the chair, a new beer in his hand, still reading.  A loud knock came from the front door and Momma got up to answer it.
         I followed her, curious to whom was calling us.  She opened the door, and a solider in an olive drab full body suit stood silhouetted in the doorway, rifle in hand.  Dark eyes looked out from behind the transparent mask, a breathing apparatus strapped to his mouth.  He began to speak, the words coming out as a faint wheeze.
         “Ma’am, you need to come with us.  We are evacuating the town for health reasons, this fog is from the power plant in the mountains, we believe that it may be leaking and must get everyone out of the town soon, to avoid radiation sickness,” he explained.  “Also, please do not bring any possessions; we expect to be back in the town later tonight.”
         “Okay,” my mother said, clearly puzzled.  “Ignatius,” she said to me, “Go get James.”
         Obeying my mother’s wishes, I went back into the living room to get James, disgruntled from being taken away from his book.
         “This better be good,” he said angrily.
         He walked to the door, I followed close behind.  Once he reached the door, and saw the soldier, his eyes narrowed.
         “Ma’am, if you’ll come with us,” the soldier said, backing off the front step.
         When he moved, I was able to see the rest of the small front yard.  Five more soldiers stood on our lawn, clad similarly to the first soldier, rifles unslung and at the ready.
         “Woah, woah, woah,” James said.  “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
         He made out for his car parked in our driveway, pushing past the soldier.
         “Sir!  It’s not safe for you here,” the soldier called out.
         “Like hell it isn’t, I’m going home,” he shouted over his shoulder.
         He faded into the mist, and faintly we could hear his car start up and back out from the driveway.
         Momma shrugged and took my hand, leading me out with the soldier onto the path to the street.  On the street I could faintly see a truck, also covered in olive drab paint, behind it a Humvee and in front of it a tank.  I thought we were going on an adventure, naturally.  That was until Mr. Reese came running to our house.
         Screaming erupted next door to our house, and from the mist, our elderly neighbor, Mr. Reese came running.
         “Susan!  Susan!” he yelled to my momma.  “They killed Chris.”
         The soldier closest to him raised his gun and crouched down.
         “Sir!  Stop where you are or I will shoot!”
         Mr. Reese kept running, screaming.
         “Sir!  Stop!” the soldier yelled, the others turning to aim at Mr. Reese.
         Mr. Reese still did not comply, and a short bark erupted from the rifle.  Three bullets punched neat holes in his chest, spinning him to the ground.
         The soldier who had spoken to his mother grabbed her arm and hustled her and me to the truck.  On our way there, something fell from the sky.
         I was unable to describe it when I was younger, so shocked and stupid was it, but it was one of Them.  Insectoid, but standing on two legs, it was a beast.  Two long scythe-like arms came down from its chest, one of which was impaled on Mr. Reese’ head.
         “Move!  Move!  Move!” the soldiers shouted.  They all turned and fired on this creature, their bullets blasting chunks of its mantis like arms off.
         Non-reacting, it looked at them with compound eyes, the dim light reflecting off them.  In retaliation, it leapt to the closest soldier, the one that had shot Mr. Reese and brought him down.
         Momma and I turned and ran for the truck, once we got there, soldiers inside pulled us up.  Just before I disappeared into the warm womb of the inside, I looked back, the creature looking up from Mr. Reese’ body, mouthparts covered in gore.
         One of the soldiers bullets then smashed into it’ eye, dropping it to the ground, withering.  The rest of the soldiers leapt into the truck, and we roared off down the street.
         Fast-forward to now, forty years later, and the human race all but extinct.  They hunted us down, one by one, and slaughtered us.  Inexorable they were.  In this colony, I’m one of the oldest, and the kids born before the beginning, They are feared beyond anything else.  Called the Sky Hunters now, because They fly.
         Who would have thought, that we would end like this.
         No one knew where they came from.  Most referred to as mutations, but I don’t know, and I don’t care.  I hear them breaking into the sanctuary, and it’s time to say good bye.
         To anyone who may read this, good luck, and aim for the eyes.