The Roof

Casey has one fleeting impression of freedom as he crawls out the window from his room onto the porch roof. It's a cool September night but he's sweating with fear. He's not quite sure if he's more afraid of being caught by his parents who are just downstairs, or by the aliens - who could be anywhere.

He glances down as he slides forward on the old roof with its loose shingles and feels himself losing what little courage he's mustered. *They're here.* He almost laughs at the terrible cliche - an overused horror movie tag line come back to haunt him just when he needs it least.

He presses himself back against the house and watches as the three figures - aliens in the form of a coach, a principal and a teacher, march up to the porch. He can hear them below, their voices along with his parents' and he knows that he has very little time left.

He wonders if his parents felt any pain when they were taken over, but it's an idle curiosity, with no real feeling attached to it.

He scrapes his hand across the rough surface of the roof and it hurts, making his eyes water. He shoves the liquid away impatiently and continues his oh-so-cautious forward movements until he hears something and turns too quickly almost losing his balance.

He drapes himself limply along the porch roof, barely breathing, closing his eyes and wishing for someone stronger/braver/smarter to tell him what to do. Casey knows he's not a leader. He flashes on a mental image of Zeke striding across the grass, a paperback casually dangling from his fingertips, head up and meeting everyone's gaze, unafraid.

With a new sense of purpose, Casey cautiously rises, determined to find Zeke. If anyone is smart enough and brave (or just plain stubborn) enough to outwit the aliens, it's Zeke.

Casey manages a smile as he slides the last bit to the edge of the porch roof, still listening to the faint murmur of voices from inside the house. He's looking for a good way to swing himself safely off and down to the ground when he sees them.

Delilah? Stokely? ...Zeke?

He blinks uncertainly at the figures, shadowy under the streetlight. But then they move closer, motioning to him and he shakes his head against the absurdity of it and attempts what seems the easiest way down. He slips.

"Graceful," Delilah snarks at him while he lays there trying to decide if anything is broken. Zeke just gives her a look and she turns and takes a few steps away. Stokely shakes her head at him. But Zeke...

"Need a hand?"

Casey can feel the writer's callus on Zeke's finger. His hands are nicely warm, but not too hot, and textured without being rough. Casey lingers perhaps a moment too long before answering, but then he stands up, leaning against Zeke who doesn't seem eager to let him go. There is just the briefest flash of pain in his ear - like a sudden earache from adjusting to an altitude change, and then it is gone and Casey is left feeling a bit weak and disoriented.

"Dizzy," Casey whispers, sagging against Zeke as Delilah and Stokely return to his side, expressions of concern on their faces.

"You should come to my house, Casey," Delilah insists. She's talking to him but seems to be looking at Zeke. Casey's brain seems to be slowing down and then speeding up. He looks up at Zeke and blinks. Zeke is smiling at him.

"Casey is coming with me. Right ,Casey?"

Casey nods.

Raised voices can be heard from inside the house and Casey flinches.

Zeke brushes some dirt off Casey's shirt collar and leans in to whisper close to where that momentary pain had been. "You can even stay with me if you want, Casey; get away from the parents for a while. How does that sound?"

Casey looks over at Delilah and Stokely, dark outlines under the streetlight, then back at the house. His parents are with the aliens in there. But here with Zeke he's got everything he's ever wanted, and he's safe. He looks up into those warm, soft eyes and smiles.

"I'm staying with you."

From now on, everything would be perfect.

:::end:::

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