The President burst back through the door he had come through earlier, and we followed.
"General Grey, co-ordinate with the Atlantic Command. Tell them to evacuate as many people out of the cities as they can," he demanded as soon as he came through the door.
"Yes sir," responded an older man, presumably General Grey.
"And get those helicopters away from the ship. Call them back immediately," Whitmore continued.
I looked over to the screens covering the front of the room. I hadn't been paying attention to the news report since before we left to come to D. C., so I didn't know about the helicopter's planned attempt to establish communication.
I looked over at David, worried, and he seemed to have the same thought cross his mind. Those aliens didn't come to communicate.
"What's the hell is going on?" demanded an older, annoying look man.
"We're leaving," Whitmore responded. "Kim, my daughter please."
My eyes were still glued on the TV's, though I was almost scared to see what would happen. I zoned out all of the chaotic talking and planning, not paying attention to what anyone was saying as I watched the alien ship begin to open up.
"This can't be good, this isn't good," I muttered David, tapping my fingers on my legs nervously. "You have to get them out of there! Get them out of there!" I shouted, moving farther into the room, but never taking my eyes off the television.
Before anyone could say anything back to me, or wonder who the hell I even was, three beams of light shot out from the ship on screen, hitting the helicopters, and immediately causing them to explode, falling down to the Earth in flaming pieces.
My jaw dropped, and my hand flew to my mouth, and I immediately felt tears welling up in my eyes. The aliens were ready to attack, and they would attack anything that got in their way.
I turned to David, still almost in tears, speechless, and he just gently grabbed my shoulder with a grim face and began leading me and his father out of the room.
"We're leaving now! They're going to attack!" Whitmore shouted, finally getting a reaction from everyone, now that their attention was no longer on the helicopters that were on screen. "Send out an evacuation notice, I want everyone to get out of those cities."
Everything was a flurry of movement as we all rushed out the door and to a helicopter that was waiting for us.
"Get the rest of the staff on the second helicopter," General Grey ordered to the people around us. "You all, go."
We went onto the helicopter behind the President, his daughter, and other government officials. David was still leading me with his hand on my shoulder, as I was still in shock, and could hardly move myself.
The three of us sat down in a short row of seats behind the President, his daughter, and General Grey.
David looked at me, concerned. "Are you okay?" he asked.
I nodded mutely. The shock of what just happened had finally began to wear off; however, it was being replaced by fear of this helicopter. I was absolutely terrified of heights, but I never said anything about it to David before, because I knew about his flight sickness, and I didn't want him to have to worry about another thing while he was in the air.
One time, we had to go to Illinois to a branch of the cable company we worked for because they were having troubles with their connections. For some reason, we were the ones chosen (well David was, I was just allowed to come as well because I was his intern) for the job, even though we worked in the office in New York. We had to take a flight there, and although it was only a couple of hours long, David almost got sick multiple times. He spent most of the flight with his head between his knees, and I spent most of the flight rubbing his back trying to help.
But anyway, I had never told David that I was actually petrified of flying - and of heights in general - because I didn't want to make flying even worse for him. So for right now, I decided that the best thing was for him to think that the reason I was so pale and shaky was because of shock from a few minutes ago.
I glanced over at David as he pulled his laptop out again. The clock kept ticking sown; 9:12, 9:11, 9:10...
It was almost attack time.
The helicopter lifted into the air with a jolt, and I grabbed onto the armrests, digging my nails into them, and clenched my jaw.
God, I hate heights.
It took us almost the full 9 minutes we had left to fly to and transfer into Air Force 1.
I still hadn't said a word as I slipped into the seat next to David. As soon as we sat down, once again, David opened up his laptop, this time in time to see 0:02, 0:01, 0:00 flash across the screen.
David looked at me solemnly. "Times up."
The plane slowly started to move, rolling down the runway for take off, and I tried to see out the window to the alien ship.
I saw a bright beam of, once again, green light, and then suddenly everything below the ship exploded into flames. I jumped back into my seat in surprise as soon as it did, and clutched the armrests again as I felt the airplane shudder and shake as it took off.
The lights flickered, and the plane kept shaking as we slowly elevated into the air, and as I knew the explosion and flames were creeping up closer to us.
We might die.
It was the first time that the thought had crossed my mind, but it was true. The lights flickered still and the plane shook even more violently, and I felt tears welling up again, this time not from shock or horror, but from pure, absolute fear.
I felt a hand grab mine and I gripped it tight, looking next to me to see David's hand in mine, and his eyes reflecting the same fear that I was feeling and that I knew my eyes contained as well.
Heck, I was even too scared to feel butterflies in my stomach when David grabbed my hand, although I knew they were there.
I gripped his hand tighter, probably painfully tight, as the lights kept flickering and the plane kept shuddering.
And then finally...it stopped.
The lights stayed on, and the plane ride was suddenly smooth.
Somehow, we had made it, and had outrun the destruction that tried to consume us.
I let out a breath that I didn't even know I was holding and, reluctantly, pulled my hand out of David's. As soon as I did, I noticed him flexing his probably now dead fingers. Whoops.
I cringed. "Sorry," I apologized softly, feeling bad that I had held his hand so tight, but to be honest, I already missed the feeling.
David just shrugged, waving it off.
Finally able to relax slightly, I leaned back in my seat and, surprisingly since we were on a plane, I slowly fell asleep.
I was standing in Los Angeles, in the midst of thousands of people screaming, crying, and running. They were scrambling over cars, over one another, and over abandoned luggage that was no longer a priority as they all ran for their lives.
I turned around to see an explosion; fire bursting, exploding, and destroying anything in its path. Nothing stood a chance as it billowed, plowing its way through everything without remorse.
I realized it was heading my way, and I turned to run and join the frantic crowd scrambling to live; but as I turned, I heard my name being called.
"Elaina!!!" I saw my family, dirt covering their faces almost as much so as the panic resting there. They were closer to the fire than I was, running towards me, screaming for my help.
I changed my course and began running towards them, towards the fire.
But I wasn't fast enough.
They were almost within arms reach when the billowing cloud of flame and ash and rubble caught up with them. Their screams echoed in my ears as I was frozen, unable to do anything except watch them burn.
When the fire and the burning heat reached me as well, it was almost a relief. Anything that could tear me away from helplessly watching as they screamed in agony, was now welcoming to me.
But as the heat surrounded me, burning me, I blinked, and suddenly the pain and the fire vanished.
The buildings around me were in rubble, ash, burnt to a crisp. Anything that did survive was broken, singed and scarred, scattered carelessly across the black ground.
And I was the only one left.
Everything was black, burnt, and dead except for me.
I was left standing in the middle of all the death and rubble and a city turned to ash; alone.
And as I looked down at my feet, I cried out, recoiling at what I saw.
It was my family; burnt almost beyond recognition, and hearts no longer beating. The sockets where their eyes once were stared at me, glaring, accusing me.
And I could do nothing.
"It's your fault," a voice sneered, carried by the wind that whipped my hair across my face. "You didn't save them, you could've saved them." It continued to taunt me, now coming from all sides around me, surrounding me as tears rolled down my face. "You weren't fast enough. THIS IS YOUR FAULT!!"
I shot awake, breathing far too fast for comfort, with tears staining my cheeks.
David's hand was on my shoulder. He looked me in the eyes, concerned. "Ellie, are you alright?"
The tears just streamed faster, and I shook my head, pulling my legs up onto the seat and burying my face into my knees.
I felt David's hand on my back, rubbing circles around my shoulder. He pulled me closer to him so my head was now resting against his shoulder.
He ran one of his hands through my hair as the other one continued to rub circles on my back. "Shhhhh," he murmured softly, as my sobs began to slowly subside.
I focused on breathing, trying to calm myself, but it proved to be very difficult as images from my dream continued to flash behind my eyes.
After a few minutes, my sobs finally quieted down to nothing, and the tears stopped running down my cheek. By this point, I was sure that the shoulder of David's shirt was soaked, but he didn't seem to care.
I pulled away slightly, taking a deep shaky breath and rubbing at my eyes.
"Are you okay," David asked once again.
I shrugged. I wasn't okay, of course, but David was already beginning to look green in the face from the flight, and I didn't want to worry him.
"Could I use your phone?" I asked quietly, my voice cracking. My stomach was still churning; I was terrified, knowing full well that at least part of my nightmare could be reality.
David nodded, still not convinced that I was alright. But he pulled out his phone and handed it over to me nevertheless.
I walked away slightly more into the hallway in between the seats, before dialing the number for the second time today.
And for the second time today, all I heard was the dial tone, signalling that no one answered.
Tears began to well up in my eyes once more, and I struggled to keep my breathing even and calm. I couldn't even bear to think about what could have possibly happened to my family.
"Are you okay?" A small voice came from my right.
I turned to see the President's daughter-Patricia, I think her name was-looking up at me with wide eyes, holding onto her blanket.
I swallowed, forcing the tears and fears down, and put a smile on my face. "Yeah." My voice cracked, still unstable, so I cleared my throat. "Yeah, I'm fine sweetie. Just worried about all the people down there."
I figured that was a logical reason, not actually a lie either.
"Me too. I'm worried about my mommy," she agreed, looking at me with wide eyes.
Immediately, I felt a pang of sympathy; this young girl was going through the same thing as I was.
I walked over and sat down next to her, smiling gently. "My family is down there somewhere too," I confessed, and her eyes widened. "But, do you know what I think?" I continued.
"What?"
I smiled at her again, and put my arm around her small shoulders. "I think that both your mommy and my family are just fine. And they're waiting for us to come back and find them. But first we have to get rid of the dumb aliens," I joked poking her nose.
She giggled, and my grin widened.
"You're pretty," she said, staring up at me with wide eyes.
I was surprised by the comment at first, not knowing how to respond. "Well thank you. And you are beautiful," I replied, poking her nose again.
She giggled again. "Thank you," she said in her cute little voice.
I was about to just keep talking to her, when I heard raised voices from the section of seats on the other side of us. Well, specifically, I heard David's raised voice.
I frowned. "I'm gonna see what they're doing, okay?" I said to Patricia as I stood up. She nodded and I walked quickly over to what looked like a meeting that David seemed to be intruding on.
"It's the end of life as we know ot! Do you hear what they're talking about? Don't even think about it!" David was shouting, obviously very agitated about something, but I didn't know what.
I walked up next to him and placed my hand on his arm, hoping to maybe calm him down. "David-"
"You have to leave," Connie ordered David.
He shook my hand off of his arm. "I don't have to go! It can't be allowed!"
"Shut up! Captain, get him out of here!" A man-I think the Secretary of Defense-snarled at David.
I stepped forward angrily, ready to defend David, but Julius beat me to it.
"Hey, hey! Don't tell him to shut up! You'd all be dead now if it wasn't for my David and Ellie. None of you did anything to prevent this!" He yelled at everyone in the room. He did have a point there.
"There was nothing we could do," General Gray defended. "We were completely unprepared for this."
"Ah, don't give me unprepared! It was what, in the 19 what, 50s, whatever. You...you had that spaceship!"
"Dad, no Dad-" David tried to get his father to stop talking, but Julius cut him off.
"Yeah, that thing that you found in New Mexico!"
"Dad-"
"Where was that?"
"Not a spaceship, Dad."
"Roswell! Roswell, New Mexico, yeah!"
"Julius-" I tried to butt in as well, but he cut me off too.
"No! You had the spaceship, and you had the bodies. They were all locked up in a, in a bunker. Where was that? David!"
David just shrugged, seeming to be at a loss for words by this point.
"Area 51. Right? Area 51. You knew then! And you did nothing."
Julius stopped talking, and everyone was silent for a second. Then the President walked over, smiling. "Sir, regardless of what you may have read in the tabloids, there have never been any spacecraft recovered by our government. Take my word for it. There's no Area 51. There's no recovered spaceship," he reassured Julius, laughing slightly, as he tried to lead him out of the room.
"Um."
All of our heads turned to the annoying Secretary of State, who looked really uncomfortable.
"Mr. President, that's not...entirely true."
My jaw dropped. Are you kidding me?
"Wait," David started, doing the weird thing that he does with his hand, holding it up. "Which part?"