Arrival: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller

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The aliens in the warehouse had recovered and were now standing, shoulder to shoulder—only their silhouettes visible as muzzle flashes painted the darkness in bright bursts. Blue smoke and the stench of gunpowder filled the warehouse. Maya felt a cold shiver run up her neck, and she couldn’t tell if it was because of her blood loss or the fact that the aliens seemed indestructible. She tried not to think about the hundreds, possibly thousands, she had witnessed dropping from the ship’s hatch to land inside the dome.

Maya ran to the closest man holding a gun. He looked at her with big eyes, his face red and with sweat dripping from his brow. Members of Kenny’s group lay on the floor—all of them dead.

“They just keep getting up, no matter how many bullets we fire. Before long, we won’t have any ammunition left!”

“I need you to calm down and stay focused,” Maya said. “I know how to kill them. But I’m going to need your help.” She looked to the others holding guns. “All of you.”

“How?”

With the guns quieted, the aliens started toward them in a slow, methodical march, locked together like robots.

“Get the aliens on the ground, and I’ll show you. Give them everything you’ve got. Me and Trevor here will do the rest.”

The man with the gun didn’t even have a chance to reply. The alien on the far-left broke rank and lunged, roaring with the same high-pitched shriek Maya had endured in the bathroom. She covered her ears again, almost dropping the machete.

Gunfire erupted and mixed with the alien’s shrieks.

Maya turned to Trevor and had to scream into his ear. “Ready?”

He nodded. The machete shook in his hand.

She thought of Reno and wished he were there with her. But he wasn’t, and she’d have to count on Trevor to come through.

The men had coordinated their fire on a single alien, and the barrage of bullets had knocked it down, only ten feet from where they stood. The creature was now on its back, its arms and legs thrashing about. Trevor started for it, but Maya grabbed him by the arm. The men turned their fire on the other aliens, knocking them to the floor with more bullets.

“Hold on. You have to make sure you’re close enough. These are too dull to cut it, so make sure to aim for the mask.”

As if on cue, the alien sat up and turned to face Trevor.

“Now!” she said, letting go of Trevor’s arm.

He ran at the creature with his machete raised in the air.

Time slowed for Maya as she watched everything unfold, much like what would happen when she and Reno arrived on the scene of a gruesome accident. She believed it was the way her brain processed stimuli without overwhelming her—it made things bearable.

The only lights shining in the warehouse came from the ends of the barrels as the gunfire erupted. The smoke continued to fill the space, and Maya couldn’t see anything.

She stumbled through the darkness and stood next to Trevor. Both looked down at the alien on the floor who had been struck with another barrage of bullets. It wasn’t moving, but even through the commotion, Maya could hear its mechanical breathing. Trevor still had the machete above his head. He hadn’t swung at the creature’s head yet. Tears filled his eyes, and his entire body shook.

“Trevor!”

He looked at her, gasping.

“I’ll do it. Watch me.”

He nodded.

Maya swung her machete and connected with the mask using the side of the blade, in almost the same spot as she had with the alien in the bathroom. The mask fell from the alien’s face and shattered, revealing dark, thin lips. Its black eyes stared at her.

But instead of gasping for air, the alien blinked and sat up. Its hand shot out and long, spindly fingers wrapped around Trevor’s throat.

“No!”

She had destroyed its protective mask, and yet the alien seemed to be unfazed.

Maya swallowed.

Oh no.