Invasion Day: An Oral History of the Veech War by Micah Gurley (good books for high schoolers .TXT) 📕

saw an eighteen-wheeler just gun it and ram cars forward like they were Matchbox cars. That's when the traffic came to a dead stop.

People were honking and screaming at everyone to move. We hopped out of the car; there were four of us, and we started running. Screw the car. That shit wasn't moving. The problem was you couldn't run, couldn't even walk at a regular pace. The cars were so close to each other you had to jump over them where they were smashed together. We saw people just running on top of cars, so we started doing that too. It's not as easy as it looks, but the bigger problem was that everyone started doing it, then it became one big game of King of the Hill.

I barely made it two cars length when I got jacked from the side and hit the pavement. Well, my shoulders did, but my legs were stuck between two cars. Yeah, I got stuck upside down during an alien attack. I couldn't get any leverage to push my way up either, not to mention, I had people pushing my legs to the side as they escaped. I got lucky though because one of the guys with me saw it happen and helped me back up. That was the last time I saw him... we got separated a few minutes after that.

He stops talking and watches travelers walk past. He breathes deeply and drops his head.

I don't think about that day very much. I make myself not think about it. I'm no schoolboy. I've made some bad decisions in my life and seen some bad things, but that day was... everything else pails in comparison.

I saw a family running, or trying to run, trying to make it over the cars or, sometimes, dropping on the pavement. It was a middle-aged father and mother with kids that had to be around eleven or twelve. Two of them. They were all holding hands in a line, with the father in the front. I didn't even see what happened. I had turned my head for some reason but when I looked over, the father was searching for his family. They were separated in an instant. I remember the father screaming in panic, trying to fight his way back through the crowd of people trying to escape. I wanted to help, I mean, their kids, you know? But I just stood there like a coward, then joined the crowd flowing around me. I hated myself for it. In my mind, I like to tell myself he found them, and they made it out, but deep down, I know they didn't. I didn't stop.

He wipes his eyes

It was just a few minutes after that when I saw a mother—a young mother carrying a baby. Just them, no dad or husband, no other kids. The mom had the baby pulled tight to her chest and was trying to go over the cars with the crowds, but she wasn't strong enough. She fell in between the vehicles and was gone, just like that. I couldn't turn away again, so I moved in her direction but was immediately hit and thrown to the roof of the car. I got up quickly and pushed my way back up again. I wasn't gentle. I looked for the mother but wasn't able to see her anymore. There were so many people moving around me that I couldn't even see where they had fallen. I... I wonder if I could have gotten her, you know? I think maybe I could have gotten the baby out if I had tried harder.

Stops talking and takes a few breaths. Then he looks at me and lets out a small laugh.

That's why I don't think about it much. I can't. I'd never be able to function again, or I'd be filled with so much rage that... well, I've also learned not to let anger control me.

Eventually, the crowd began to slow, to disperse. It took a while. We must have run fifteen miles before we felt safe. It's amazing how much fear can grip us and change us. It turns us into something primal, something only run by instinct. I ended up in a field of survivors about a mile or two away from the interstate. I had no idea where but after everyone calmed down, myself included, I was able to get some directions and from there, made my way to Flagstaff.

I don't know how many people died on that interstate... I just can't think about it.

Jeb Tanes

Memphis, Tennessee

I walk down Beal Street, Memphis's famous blues street. It's crowded with tourists and office workers seeking lunch. The soulful sound of the blues drifts down the street as I see Jeb sitting at an outdoor cafe. Jeb is in his early thirties, has light brown skin and the face of a much younger man. He is a slim man who has a scholar's air.

It's impressive, isn't it? (He waves to the city around him.) Construction everywhere, though a lot hasn't been finished, and at least we have Beal Street back. It's ironic, isn't it? Aliens attack us, and the infrastructure of the world's largest cities is perfectly fine, but Memphis was burned to the ground. Not by them, but by us. We did it to ourselves.

I was lucky. Before Invasion Day, I was nineteen, a senior in high school. (Laughs.) I was older than my classmates because I had dropped out, and my mom made me go back. Said she'd "take care of me" if I didn't. I was more scared of my mamma than any gang, so I went back.

I was playing ball with some of the guys from the neighborhood. I didn't have many classes in my last semester, and hadn't gone to school that day, so I didn't know they'd gotten out early because of the news. We were in the middle of the game when a guy ran up to us and yelled