There was a storm rolling in.

The dark gray storm clouds were massive--unlike anything Abigail had ever seen before. They were low, too, almost as though if she reached out her hand she could touch them. They weren't dropping rain, but they were rolling, dark, a deep charcoal gray that blocked out almost all light. It was only 3:30 in the afternoon, but it looked like it was 10:00. On either side of the long, winding road gigantic waves crashed up, threatening to thrust up past the rocks and onto the narrow road. The sound was almost deafening, even with the windows up.

"This is insane," Olivia murmured, her fingers gripping the steering wheel so hard that her knuckles were white. The strong wind forcing the waves to crest up over the jagged, black rocks beside them didn't affect the car--Olivia wasn't fighting any wind. But still she held tightly to the wheel. "What the hell is going on?"

Abigail pursed her lips. She didn't know. The morning had been beautiful and sunny. They had gone to the beach, which had been so crowded that they could barely find a place to lay their blankets out together. And then, almost instantly, the clear sky overhead had covered with these heavy, thick clouds, preventing the light from shining through. People had abandoned the beach almost immediately. It was still warm, but no one wanted a beach party to get rained out.

"We're almost there," Abigail reassured her. "Then we can make some popcorn and throw on a chick flick and huddle under some blankets."

Olivia smiled wanly. "Throw in some hot chocolate and you got yourself a deal."

"Done," Abigail agreed. Her throat closed after the word, unwilling to let her talk again. Her heart beat steadily against her ribs, each beat hard and concise. The clouds felt ominous, alluding to dangers presently unknown. She hated storms, but this one felt different somehow. She swallowed the lump in her throat and chided herself for her silly, immature thoughts. She was 17--far too old to be afraid of the dark, no matter how unexpected.

"Hey, look at that!" Olivia gasped. Abigail looked over at her sharply, then followed her gaze through the windshield to the wetsuit-clad boy walking down the road in the same direction they were headed. He had long blond hair, down to his shoulders, which was still hanging in clumps from the water. The figure looked astonishingly small compared to the dark clouds overhead, and the massive water that stretched out around them. There were no other houses at the end of this road, nor visible from this road, so he must live in one of the two houses at the end of the road. Since she knew he didn't live in her house, that could only make him her neighbor.

"It looks like Mica," she said, frowning. Mica was the youngest brother of the large Duvald family, at 15. Mica was a surfer, that was true, but where was his surfboard? And why was he walking in this kind of weather instead of calling someone from his family to come get him?

As they got closer, she definitely recognized him. The Duvald household wasn't exactly friends with the Shannon one, but they were cordial and got along well enough. Abigail and Olivia were in school with the four older brothers, Grayson, the oldest, was a senior, Miles, the second oldest, was a junior, Austin, the third oldest, was a sophomore like they were, and Mica was the youngest, a freshman. They had two younger sisters, Arianna, 10, and Grace, 8.

"You wanna pick him up?" Olivia asked, already slowing the car down.

Abigail nodded. "Yeah." She frowned at the clouds, dread once again overcoming her as she looked down at the water that threatened to slam into their car with every break. "I don't want him walking in this."

The car continued to slow until it finally came to a stop behind the middle Duvald brother. If he sensed them or heard the car, he didn't show it, continuing to walk in a straight line toward his house. Olivia honked the horn, but he didn't hesitate. Abigail's heart filled with uneasiness.

"I'll get him," she said, pushing the passenger door open. As soon as she did, she could hear why Mica hadn't turned. The wind and crashing waves were so loud that she couldn't even hear the engine idling beside her. She chased after him, her footsteps silent in the shaking environment. As she caught up to Mica she grabbed his arm, turning him to face her. He spun around, his eyes wide, a large gash over his forehead.

"Mica!" she exclaimed, horrified. Her words didn't even reach her own ears. She scowled, frustrated, then ripped out of her t-shirt and quickly put it to his bleeding head. She led him to Olivia's car, which had followed her pursuit of the boy. She opened the back passenger door and shoved their beach bags to the driver's side, gesturing for Mica to get in. He looked unhappy, but not really in pain, which she guessed was good. As soon as he was in she hopped into the passenger seat and shut the door, twisting to look back at him as Olivia resumed her slow drive up the road.

"What happened?" Abigail asked. She had absolutely no qualifications in first aid, and when they had taken the class in school the year before she and Olivia had spent the entire time passing notes and not paying attention. For the first time since then, she cursed herself. She had no idea if it was a serious cut and warranted a trip to the emergency room, or if it was just a cut that bled a lot.

"I was surfing and the winds got crazy. Threw me into the rocks and smashed my board into pieces." He dabbed at the blood around his eyes with her shirt. "Thank you."

"Are you okay?" she continued, still unsure what to do. She would call home, but her cell phone had died, and Olivia couldn't get signal. "Why didn't you call someone?"

He snorted derisively. "Who would I call? Mom and Dad are on vacation in the Bahamas with Arianna and Grace, Grayson and Miles are partying at their friend's this week, and Austin is barely ever home." He winced as he continued to mop at his forehead with the shirt, which had been white but now was just a mottled mess of reds and browns. It made her dizzy just to see.

"Surfing by yourself is an idiotic idea," Olivia pointed out, sounding exasperated. "What would you have done if something worse happened? What if you broke your leg and you couldn't get up the rocks?"

"Drowned, I suppose. So good thing it didn't happen." Mica's face was dry, but held a ruddy tint from his blood. He held the shirt tight against his forehead. "Thanks for the ride."

"You're welcome," Abigail assured him, her stomach twisting with worry. First the crazy clouds, and now this? She was afraid to ask what was going to happen next. "Do you need a hospital?"

"Nah. I'm fine. I made sure I was coherent; could recite my locker combination and knew my ABCs. I could use a couple of Advil and an icepack, though, so I'll be glad to get home." He groaned, leaning back against the seat. "Totally wrecked my board. Shit. I loved that thing. Saved up almost the entire summer last year for it."

Abigail gave him a sympathetic look, but she knew as much about surfing as she did CPR. Besides--the board wasn't a big deal. Those things were replaceable, unlike the middle Duvald child.

"You're lucky," Abigail murmured. "We're almost home, so just... don't sleep or anything, okay? If you want you can come over to my house so you're not alone and we can keep an eye on you."

He eyed her. "I'm fine, but thanks."

She flushed as though he had slapped her. She sat back in her seat, facing forward so that he couldn't see her crimson skin. "Okay. Well, you can call us if you need anything."

He said nothing. She could see the side of his face in her passenger side mirror. He was gazing out the window, resting his elbow right below it, holding the shirt to his forehead. He looked so young... so sad. She felt her heart go out to him, and regretting never being friendly to him. They had lived on their little island with the Duvald's since she was 4, but they had never played together; had never really interacted much at all. The island wasn't very big, just large enough to hold their two houses and yards. Why hadn't she ever made an effort to be friends? It was too late now, of course, though she wished it weren't.

Thunder rolled overhead, shaking the car so hard that it felt like an earthquake. Abigail could barely hear Olivia's cries over her own screams of terror. In the back seat, Mica remained silent. When the thunder stopped, Abigail took a deep gulp and looked over at Olivia, whose eyes were filled with tears. She lightly squeezed her friend's arm and looked back at Mica, whose cold gray eyes were staring out the window at the clouds. Wordlessly, his eyes snapped to hers, hypnotizing her with the depths.

They said nothing.

Abigail flushed again, scowling to herself. Why did he have to be so rude? She was just turning to check on him and make sure that he was alright. She turned back to Olivia. "Do you want me to drive?" she offered gently, trying to calm her racing heart.

"No, I... No. I can do it." Olivia gave her a brave, watery smile, and continued down the road. Abigail squeezed her arm again, then clasped her hands together in her lap. They could see the houses now; they were close. Just a quarter of a mile and they'd be pulling up to the loop that went around the island--left for the Duvald's, right for the Shannon's. They just needed to make it that far, then they could curl up at home with blankets and comfort food and forget about this whole ordeal.

Olivia eased the car through the island's opening, and started to go right. "Oh!" Abigail exclaimed quickly. "Mica's house is on the left."

"It's fine," he inserted flatly. "Just drive to your house. It's a two minute walk."

"No, we can drop you--" Abigail offered, turning to look back at him.

Big mistake. His eyes locked onto hers and didn't move. "It's fine," he stated evenly.

Abigail swallowed hard and turned back to Olivia, who was frowning at Mica's tone. "Okay," she agreed, forcing a hollow laugh and trying to keep a light tone. "Mica's going to be a gentleman and take us to our door."

Olivia smiled weakly at the attempt to lighten the air in the car, but Mica was silent in the back seat. Olivia pulled into the driveway, then let out a huge breath of relief. "We made it," she said, a wide, genuine smile lifting her pretty, delicate features.

"Thank god," Abigail agreed, laughing a little. She braced herself and opened the door. The crash of the waves around the tiny island was deafening. She almost clapped her hands over her ears. Instead she shut the passenger side door and turned to open the back door; to get their stuff out. Mica was already holding it, prepared to hand it off to her.

She blinked, startled, and tried to say thank you, but the noise around them was too loud to be heard. She reached out to take the bags, her fingers coming into contact with the canvas just as the earth around them violently; the clouds overheard giving a warning battle cry of what was to come.

Abigail cried out and released the bags. Mica, still holding them, held her against the car as the earth shook, standing behind her and holding her head down as she buried it in the car. As if their bodies created a little cocoon between them, she could feel how hard his heart was pounding; could feel his hot breath against her ear. She wasn't sure if he smelled like the fresh sea water or if it was the waves that were pounding the rocks around the island. Despite the severity of the situation, she felt strangely safe... comforted.

When the rumbling stopped he stepped back. She still couldn't hear anything except for the waves crashing around them, but he disappeared to the other side of the car, where... Olivia... wasn't.

How could she have forgotten her friend?! Abigail ran to the other side of the car, her heart racing, and stopped short as she assessed the sight before her. Olivia was crouching on the ground, cowering under her arms, leaning against the car. Mica was kneeling beside her, trying to lift her. Abigail reached out for the bags, pulling them off of his shoulder. He looked up at her, their eyes locking for a split second that felt like an eternity. His stormy gray eyes were lighter than the storm clouds around them, but they were just as murky and fathomless... As much of an enigma as the unexpected storm.

Mica lifted Olivia surprisingly easily for a 15 year old. He carried her up to the front of the house, where Abigail scrambled to get to her keys in the pocket of her bag. When she did, she pushed the door open and he carried Olivia in, whose sobbing was just barely audible with the echoing of the waves in the large, empty house.

"Do you have flashlights? Candles? A first aid kit? Emergency food?" Mica shouted, to be heard over the earth's noise.

Abigail stared at him blankly. Did she have...? She had no idea. There were probably a few candles in the kitchen drawer... Maybe a flashlight in her dad's den? But a first aid kit? Emergency food? Her family had never had any use for those things, and if they had, her mom and dad were in charge of bringing them. She was just to cuddle under the blankets and wait for them.

He must have read her mind, because he immediately went into action. "I'll check the kitchen. You go to the bathroom and grab some first aid supplies." And without another word, he was gone.

She stole a glance at her friend, curled up under the blankets on the couch, sobbing, and steeled herself. No matter what, she would stay strong, even in this terrifying situation. She ran up the stairs to the bathroom, dumped out her beach bag, and started throwing in ace bandages, gauze, a medical kit her mom stored under the sink, alcohol, towels... Anything that she could find that might be needed. Then she ran back downstairs, where Mica was kneeling in front of the fireplace, stacking firewood. She watched as he stood, snatched the matches from the top of the mantle amongst the pictures of their family, and then knelt down again, striking the match and lighting a piece of newspaper that he had tucked along the bottom and in the spaces between the wood. Within minutes he had a fire roaring and leaned back, turning to look at Olivia. He suddenly looked up at Abigail, his gray eyes and golden skin flickering in the light of the fire. She was suddenly accutely aware that she was standing there in shorts and her bikini top.

She forced herself to speak, glad for the darkness that wouldn't allow him to see her flush. "This is a pretty crazy storm," she said, swallowing hard. She entered the room further. "Thank you for helping us."

He said nothing for a moment, and finally stood, crossing to stand in front of her. "This is not normal," he said, his words deliberate and calm, each fully enunciated. She couldn't believe she had never noticed how tall the middle Duvald brother was... A head taller than her even though she was two years his elder. "We need blankets, and water, food..."

She forced herself to look away from his powerful eyes--much more powerful than the sea their island was surrounded by. "Why?" she asked, trying to sound lighthearted. "It's just a storm, it's no big--"

"This is not a storm," he interrupted flatly. Her eyes met his again. "You need to be prepared for the worst."

The foreshadowing words frightened her more than the weather outside. "How do you know?" she asked softly.

He looked out the large bay windows, at the water that churned in the sea. "Because I know the water. And this is not good."

"What're we going to do?" came a whimper from the couch.

Abigail flinched. She'd forgotten Olivia--again! What kind of terrible friend was she? She hated herself for regretting tearing away from the close proximity of Mica's body, but she did, hurrying over to her friend's side. The dark wet eyes looked up at her, frightened. "We're going to just wait it out. It'll be fine. Mica's here, and he's got a good handle on the situation." She couldn't believe she was trusting her and her friend's life to a 15 year-old's, but really, it was probably safer in his hands than in her own.

Olivia sniffled and sat up. almost on cue, the entire house shook violently as thunderous rumblings echoed in the ominous gray sky. Olivia screeched and curled back up on the couch, sobbing hysterically as she covered her face.

Abigail looked up at Mica, who was looking back down at her. "You can change into my dad's clothes," she suggested, when the rumbling finally stopped. She lightly rubbed Olivia's back, trying to calm her friend down. "They'll be big on you, but--"

"I'll run home." He studied her. "Are you two going to be okay?"

She smiled faintly. "Yeah. We'll be fine. Thank you."

He nodded and started to the front door. As soon as he was gone, the fear and dread suppressed all of her bravado, and she trembled almost as hard as Olivia was. Not allowing herself a chance to think twice, she dashed after him, her bare feet making light slaps on the wood hallway floor. Mica's hand was on the front door, but at the noise he turned, his eyes sharp.

She started to ask him to come back; to beg him to, but the words wouldn't come out. His eyes betrayed his confusion as he stared down at her wordlessly.

Finally, her voice barely a whisper, she said, "Be careful."

He studied her endlessly. And then, finally, he said, "You too." And then he opened the door.

The water across the yard and on the other side of the road in front of the house crashed upwards, almost as though the waves were trying to reach the sky. The water rained down around them, smelling of the sea, and something more fierce; sinister.

Abigail reached for Mica's wetsuit, fisting it in her hand. Then, against the backdrop of the waves shooting up behind him, he glanced back at her, and then walked out, the water pouring down on him. She hated to see him go, her one solace in this horrible nightmare, but she forced herself to shut the door when she couldn't see him anymore. She rested her head against the glass window between the wood panes for just a moment, then turned and went to her dad's study, up the stairs.

She was pretty sure that she had seen flashlights in his desk when she was looking for a pen once. He had to have one somewhere, anyway... She rifled through the drawers frantically, not carrying about the disarrayed state she left everything in, frustrated at the unsuccessful endeavor. Where else would her parents keep flashlights? Maybe the den?

She ran back down the stairs, around the left to the hallway that led to her room and the den. The pool table looked frightening in the middle of the room, the darkened space beneath making an excellent place for an intruder to hide. She shuddered and flipped on the light, casting a yellow glow around the room. She rushed to the den's cabinets, but they all held games, the pool table's bar rack, her parent's liquor supply. Where were the flashlights?!

Finally... Success! She almost cried with relief when she opened a drawer and found a row of flashlights and batteries, lined up according to size. She grabbed all of them, clutching them in her arms as she hurried back to the living room, where Olivia was curled up on the couch, under some blankets. Her eyes were blank and empty... Her focus was gone. Abigail almost asked her if she was okay, then decided against it. Better to let Olivia live in whatever other reality she was in.

She hurried back to the kitchen, looking for bottled water. Her mother bought the stuff in flats--they shouldn't need water. She just needed to find it... Maybe in the pantry? She opened the door, and sure enough, there on the floor were three flats of bottled water. Good.

What else? She didn't think they had any radios in the house that worked on batteries, but that would probably be helpful. She started out in her room, but that search turned out to be futile. She went up to her parent's room next, but neither of them had a battery-operated radio. The den also turned up nothing, but finally, in her dad's study, she found a little radio that ran on C batteries, which also happened to be what the flashlights took and her family had purchased in spades. Thank god.

Proud of her discovery, she carried the radio out of the den and to the living room. Next she focused on blankets, hurrying through the house to strip them off of beds and out of closets. There was one blanket, too high for her to reach in her closet, and she scowled at it, frustrated.

A hand over her head came into her vision, easily reaching the blanket.

She let out a gasp and whirled around, dropping the blankets piled in her arms as her heart racing in her chest. Mica stood there calmly, clad in a loose white t-shirt and baggy jeans, his long blond hair damp and hanging around his shoulders, his stormy gray eyes burning into hers. The cut on his forehead was a deep, dark red against his tanned skin, but it wasn't as bad as she had feared.

"Mica!" she exclaimed, holding a hand to her heart. "You scared me to death!"

Holding the blanket he had retrieved for her, he knelt down and gathered up the others. "Sorry," he apologized. "I let myself in. I didn't think you'd hear me."

She gave him a relieved smile. "It's okay," she assured him. "I was just startled, that's all. How're you doing?" She glanced out the window. "How is it out there?"

"It's a little wet."

She stared at him, and despite the severity of the situation, she burst out laughing. As though the thunder had been waiting for that, it suddenly echoed violently, shaking the glass in the windows and causing them to rattle. She gasped, horrified, and quickly swooped to help him pick up the blankets.

"How's Olivia?"

An image of her friend, curled up on the couch, her eyes glassy, flashed in her mind. "She's... scared."

"She should be." Mica finished gathering up the blankets and straightened. "This really isn't a normal storm."

Abigail frowned, pursing her lips. "What is it?" she asked, almost accusingly.

He shook his head. "Don't know." He turned and led the way out of her room, out to the living room. She noticed a duffel bag by the couch that she didn't recognize--his, obviously. He set the blankets down on the floor and then knelt beside the radio, testing it before putting in batteries. He flipped the switch again, and a man's voice came through the speakers, sounding shaky.

"--what they are, yet, but they are not from this world. Scientists across the globe are saying that they must be aliens from another planet. They are large, approximately ten feet tall, and look like... " the man gulped, "large fish-like serpents. They stand up on the back of their long bodies, are blue in color, and have scales. Should you see any of these creatures, scientists and the military are suggesting that you hide. Their weapons resemble pitchforks, but they are electrified... We... H-humans disintegrate to the touch of them."

Abigail sat down on the floor, faint.

"We don't know much else about them.. .Why they're here, or what they want, but they are coming from the water. Military advisers are evacuating all homes near water and trying to move everyone in-land. Repeat, if you are by water, evacuate immediately!"

Abigail's stomach heaved. She was going to throw up.

"Is this a joke?" she whispered.

Mica's eyes locked onto hers.

"The earthquakes and thunder that you have been hearing are not actually earthquakes and thunder. Reports are saying that they are a result of the weapons the creatures are using. The gray clouds above us are not storm clouds--they are smoke from their weapons and their vehicles." The man sounded out of breath; frightened. "So far we are seeing them worldwide, but our area is in particular danger as we are so close to the water. Already Silopas has been... wiped off the map... Please, get out while you still can!"

"Oh god!" Olivia cried hysterically. "Aliens are going to kill us!"

"Stop it!" Abigail exclaimed. She couldn't ever remember being so afraid. "No one's going to kill us! We're going to be fine!"

Mica stood. Abigail watched in terror as he walked out of the living room, to the hallway, and after darting a glance at her hysterical friend, she followed him. He was already at the front door, his hand on the knob.

"Where are you going?!" she cried desperately, rushing to him. He turned back to look at her, his stormy eyes as cloudy as the water outside.

"I'm not hiding," he stated flatly. "They're going to find us eventually and I don't want to live in terror waiting for them to do it."

She gripped his arm. "You can't!" she begged. "Maybe we'll survive! You don't know! You can't just give up!"

He suddenly detensed, his eyes so full of emotions that she couldn't even try to decipher all of them without falling under their gaze. "You know I've been in love with you since I was 6?" She felt her heart fall into her chest, her eyes widening in disbelief at his admittance. "I used to come over here and ask you to play with me, and you always said that you couldn't. I figured it was because I was too young for you, so I grew up as fast as I could. I studied adults and tried to behave like them, but you still didn't notice me. And then you got really beautiful and you started getting asked out, and my brother said something once about how everyone in your grade hated your parents because they were strict and wouldn't let you do anything." His sad smile brought tears to her eyes. How could she not have known? Why hadn't he ever said anything? "I never thought I'd get a chance to talk to you again, let alone spend time with you." He shrugged, his eyes downcast. "It's funny how things work, isn't it? Our last day on earth and I finally get to spend time with you."

He seemed so much older than 15... And so much sadder. He'd never given her any indication about his feelings toward her... Whenever she would see him in school and nod at him or try to say hi, he would just look away. and even though he was obviously the cutest guy in his grade, he never seemed to pay much attention to girls or have any use for them. How could she have possibly known it was because he had feelings for her?

She was surprised at the tears that slipped down her cheeks. "You should have told me," she whispered, then cleared the lump out of her throat and tried to speak again, her eyes focused on his chest. "I would have gone out with you."

He smiled wanly. "You don't even know me, Abigail. And I guess that's the funny part. I know everything about you and you know nothing about me."

She clenched her hands together. "Why are you telling me this now?" she demanded angrily. "Why are you telling me this when there's nothing I can do about it? You said it yourself--this is our last day on earth! Why would you wait so long to tell me?"

She was instantly subdued by his hand on her cheek, soft and tender. She was still crying; there were tears streaming down her cheeks. "I wanted to tell you before it was too late. I wanted you to die knowing that you meant the world to someone, even if you didn't know them."

Her eyes closed on her blurry vision. She felt her heart leap into her throat when she felt his lips on hers, gentle, careful, sweet. Her heart broke for everything she would never have--everything she could have had with him. She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly even as his strong arms embraced her as though for the last time.

It probably would be the last time.

Behind his back, she heard the glass in the door shatter. She screamed even as Mica held her behind him, pushing her back. She screamed his name even as a three-pronged metal point came towards them through the glass.

And then there was silence.

~~~END. Maybe...~~~