Blue Death (Short Story)

5. Man Down

A summer breeze kisses my bare chest as I lie on my back on the floor. My clasped hands behind my head are my pillows. It's noon, and nothing I can hear but the sound of silence. Alexandria is now a city of ghosts, which makes me wonder how this night is going to be like. Last night, it was just darkness. Tonight, it will be darkness, black sea and ghosts.

Did I survive because I'm so lucky or so unlucky? I guess the trouble is over for those who were swallowed by the mega tsunami. But damn no! I dismiss the thought from my mind. I wish my family is still alive. They are, I know it. The building we live in is tall and strong enough to stand the monstrous wave. Dad must have realized that he had to hurry with Mom and Mona to the roof. I'm quite sure he did that.

I raise my head, leaning backward on my palms, watching my new companion, Sherif take off his T-shirt. He gently lays Farah, his sleepy daughter, on the floor, rolling his T-shirt below her head.

"Those aliens have played it well." Sherif looks at me. "The EMP was just paving the way to their massive strike. They wanted to make sure that even if there were any survivors, they wouldn't be able to call for help."

He reminds me of Dad's theories about the Invaders. Yes, Dad has been right about them since their first appearance. I'm astonished that I didn't see what Dad had no doubt about. The Invaders didn't travel all that distance across the galaxies just to have a look and say hi. The government should have expected their first attack before its happening. I'm not sure how we could have evaded it, but I guess there are certain measures to protect our electronic stuff from electromagnetic waves.

"But why Alexandria?" I mutter, bracing my knees. "What is so special about us?"

"They didn't bring their huge spaceship only to destroy Alexandria." He smirks. "I think they turned all coastal cities into ugly versions of Venice."

"The coastal cities," I muse. "They won't stop there."

"I hate to say that, but I'm afraid the next wave of alien attacks will target inland cities to finish us off," Sherif puts in.

Or maybe they have attacked those cities already. Currently, we have no idea what the hell is going on in Cairo. Now I realize that the sci-fi movies have cheated the entire humanity for ages. Even in their most pessimistic scenarios, there was always a battle between us —humans—and aliens, and we always won at the end. Even in Independence Day, we found a way to manipulate their defensive shields, right? But look at us today. We are vanquished, and not a single missile or a laser beam is seen. Nobody has warned us from aliens who can make tsunamis—and who knows what's coming next?

There is no battle, and there will be no battle. The war is over before its start.

"So, now what?" I ask.

"We must reach dry land," Sherif suggests, his eyes scanning the roof. "We will use anything possible to make a raft that takes us out of here."

"But you just said that the next wave would—"

"Forget what I said," he interrupts me. "I'm just speculating, but we can never be sure what's really happened. Let's pray the aliens won't like it here, or perhaps they catch cold and die sneezing. Until this happens, we will do what it takes to survive and get help for all other survivors here. Hopefully, our families are among those survivors."

I see little sense in his plan. If we find a way to get our asses out of here, why don't we just go directly to our families and take them out with us?

And a raft? We are stranded on a roof, and he's talking about using anything possible. All I find here is a shovel buried in a pile of cement and those wires where I hung my shirt on one of them.