At the End - a post-apocalyptic novel (The Road to Extinction, Book 1) by John Hennessy

to the back window. The
blinds were drawn down and closed. He still held the cylinder in
his hand. He rested the gun on the windowsill and peeked
outside.
    I glanced over at him and the cylinder as it
flashed blue again.
    Without warning, two giant paws broke
through the glass, digging into Mike’s skull. The paws wrenched his
body out the window, into the quiet night.
    The twins were screaming, and Penelope
looked utterly paralyzed.
    My throat closed as my head swam with
black-red streaks before my eyes.
    “Get away from the windows! Get away!” Maggy
screamed. She bent down and grabbed a second pistol. Félix did the
same.
    I put the shotgun to my shoulder, since it
had bruised my gut earlier. Jacob had never mentioned how to
properly fire it. I should have known from all the video games, but
I just didn’t think of it when the alions were around. I didn’t
really think at all, almost as if my brain just shut down, running
away, leaving me only with nerves that hated the thought of real
confrontation.
    I yanked Penelope away from the window.
“What are you doing, get away from there!”
    Her eyes were glazed over, too foggy to see
me right in front of her. Her sisters needed her comfort, her
strength, but she was gone.
    I knelt down by the sofa. “It’s okay. It
will be okay. I’ll protect you. Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”
Some instinct inside took over when I saw how fragile they were,
how much they needed a soft voice to care for them. “Get down on
the floor behind me.” They slid off the cushions in a hurry,
huddling.
    My throat battled with me, not wanting to
let any oxygen in, but I popped an inhaler in my mouth and sprayed.
I narrowed my eyes on the broken window, with a sour feeling
crawling up from my stomach, a feeling of imminent attack.
    I bolted upright and fired.
    The alion pounced silently through the large
window, forepaws outstretched, gliding through the air like a dart.
The spatter of shots blew the alion’s face right off. The body
thudded against the back of the sofa, throwing my legs out from
under me. I smacked my head against its top. Despite the pillowy
nature of the sofa, it scrunched up my nose. I flopped over onto my
side, holding my face.
    Félix crept near the arm of the sofa and
peeked over. “It’s just a pile of blood.”
    I got up and checked. All that remained of
the alion was its huge body without a head. Blood was gushing out
of its thick neck. “We gotta leave,” I said, holding back the urge
to puke.
    “I’m with ya, bromigo.” Félix nodded. He
gathered up the duffels we had brought into the duplex.
    Maggy went to the front door, key in one
hand, pistol in the other, and her axe tied across her back. She
threw open the door, scanned. “Nothing. Let’s go,” she
whispered.
    Félix hustled Penelope over the threshold
and into the car. Jacob followed next, while I came up the rear
with the twins.
    Jacob opened the driver’s backdoor, and as I
lifted one of the twins into the car, out of the shadows an alion
lunged at the second twin. I whipped around, grabbing the shotgun
as it rested against the car body. I knew the recoil was going to
hurt, but I didn’t have time to bring it up to my shoulder, and I
pulled the trigger with the butt stuck in my stomach. Another
bruise was coming, that was certain. I groaned as the gun dug into
me; it felt like the gun was going to come out the other side.
    Jacob had jerked Amanda out of the way. At
least I thought it was Amanda, but I had never been very good with
remembering names. The shotgun spray blasted through the alion’s
chest and legs. It fell in a mangled mess of blood, fur, bone, and
organs.
    Jacob passed me Amanda, and I set her down
next to her sister. Penelope scrambled over the compartment between
the two front seats. She climbed into the back with her sisters,
ducking low, squeezed together. They were bawling and with good
reason. If I hadn’t pissed my pants when Maggy had thrown the steak
knives at us