“I’d almost rather take my chances with the greyskins,” Gilbert says.

Barry looks at him with an eyebrow raised. “We don’t know you, pal. Don’t tempt us to make you try.”

We sit for hours, waiting for the herd to pass like a slow moving storm and I feel like a child that can’t go outside because of the rain. The morning turns into afternoon, and the afternoon, evening.

“Oh, these herds can last for days,” Hank tells us. “It’s madness. Every step we take has to be taken with care. We aren’t even allowed to flush the toilets for fear that one of those creatures will hear.”

Gilbert makes another snide comment about having a wall, but he is ignored. By sunset we know there will be no traveling for the night and Hank helps us set up cots in his apartment that used to be Room 204 - Biology. He explains to us that in the morning, a few of the guys will try to go out and make noises away from the school to point the herd in a different direction. It is a dangerous job that sometimes works and sometimes doesn’t.

Late into the night, despite my lack of sleep the night before, I’m wide awake, thinking about Lucas. Hank snores away at the other end of the room. Gilbert’s cot is near the door, and Ethan’s cot is only a few feet away from mine, which is next to the window. I try to look out into the streets. Occasionally, I will spot a greyskin lurking around in the moonlight and every time I do, I get a sick feeling in my stomach.

A tear slides down my nose and onto my pillow as I stare into the night. The moon is full and foreboding. I think not only of Lucas, but others that I have lost. My sister. My parents. Hattie.

Hattie…what would I have done without you?

I bury my face into my pillow so my cries will not be heard. I try to think of the future, but I feel like there is no future. All I can do is think about the past and those that brought me to where I am.

Chapter 8 - Waverly

Three Years Ago

I never found out why there was smoke in the distance, hovering over the city like some menacing cloud that promised an imminent storm that would soon destroy us all. Perhaps it was an explosion? Maybe someone tried to set a building full of those grey people on fire? It didn’t matter. Hattie was driving us as far away from the city as possible. She tried calling her husband, Charles, but there was no answer. She stared straight ahead, her eyes wide as we moved forward, but I knew she was worried that something might have happened to her family.