School by Nathaniel Hardman (top reads .TXT) 📕

seemed to Jeremiah that her mothering instinct was in overdrive, probably pent up from wanting to care for her missing kids for so long.

Jeremiah assured her he was fine and just needed a little nap. She turned off the light, slipped out the door, and he began to drift...

“Honey, wake up! Look at this!” Jeremiah snapped awake but struggled to make sense of the scene on Lori’s tablet – mounted figures flowing up a street lined with crowds, army men running alongside, army vehicles trailing behind.

He asked, “Is that downtown?”

“Yes! It says they came out again about an hour ago, changed a bunch more cars into the orange spider things, and now they’re riding off through the city. And they’re not waiting for an escort this time. They’re moving.”

They watched in silence for several minutes. It was bizarre seeing the familiar sights of downtown Alpharetta as a backdrop to the alien parade. They came to a stop light, and Jeremiah wondered crazily if they would push the walk button to cross. They didn’t.

After a while, the aliens pulled away from whoever was recording the scene. “Can you even imagine how bad traffic must be down there right now?” Jeremiah muttered. “I wonder what they’ll do to follow ‘em.”

News footage of the aliens had been forced to rely on land-based camera work lately. There had been the initial fiasco with the helicopter-turned-giant-bird. Then there had been parties of aliens on the roof of the castle on and off for the last month, shooting spells at any helicopter or drone that ventured too close. The aliens had even taken shots at a couple of commercial airplanes, leading the army to declare a no-fly zone in a one-mile radius around the castle. Then last week, a second helicopter had been switched for a giant bird, just beyond the mile radius. Almost, they had gone to war over that.

Fortunately or unfortunately, the President was still determined to pursue diplomacy and give the aliens their space. He insisted they were only defending themselves from perceived threats.

Jeremiah knew better.

He had watched every available piece of footage from the most recent helicopter switch, and it seemed to him that the aliens had been DISAPPOINTED when the bird appeared. Whatever they were trying to do, it wasn’t just keeping helicopters away.

On Lori’s tablet, a new shot of the aliens appeared. From the angle, the shot must have been coming from a small drone flying low, a good hundred yards away from the aliens.

The aliens held their wands ready, eyeing the crowds of onlookers warily as their spidery mounts bore them south, toward Atlanta.

At least, most of them were watching the crowd.

One of the aliens, in the middle of the pack, hardly glanced at the people around him. His eyes were up, scanning the skies. Jeremiah watched him for a long time; then he reached for his laptop on the nightstand.

Lori continued to watch the scene playing out on her tablet while Jeremiah scanned earlier footage – the cars switching in the parking lot, the news van that turned into a dinosaur, the first helicopter switch, the house switch. “It’s always the same guy,” he said finally.

“What’s that, dear?”

“Every time something has been switched, it’s been the same guy. This guy,” he pointed on Lori’s screen at the alien in the middle of the group, the one who was still scanning the sky.

“That can’t be right. They’ve all been doing it, haven’t they?”

“No. It’s always the same guy. Look.” They went through the footage together. Not all of the switches had been clearly recorded, but in all of the ones where they could see who did what, it was the same alien.

“But what about,” Lori furrowed her brow, “No, but the drones they shot from the castle! There were several aliens up there shooting at the drones.”

“Yes! But they were only shooting them down! They didn’t SWITCH those ones.” They watched the clips on YouTube.

“So you think he’s the only one that can do it?” Lori asked. The question rocked Jeremiah, and he gaped back at his wife.

“No, it can’t... It has to be something else, like, he’s the only one allowed to do it. Or,” he groped for another explanation, “Maybe it’s his wand. Maybe only HIS wand is strong enough or something.”

They both considered this unlikely explanation as they continued to watch the aliens’ progress on the tablet. Jeremiah wondered what they were after – they were in Roswell or Sandy Springs now, and if they continued in the same direction, they would hit Atlanta eventually – but mostly he thought about the single alien performing the switches.

And he thought about Jeff and Suzy.

“I guess,” he said finally, “We just have to assume that only that one wand can do the switching magic, so when we steal a wand, we’ll have to try for that one specifically. And if it’s that one alien... I guess, if the wand doesn’t work, we can kidnap him and make him do it...” He trailed off, his expression glum. There were so many problems with this plan that he couldn’t even pretend it MIGHT work.

“Whoa. That’s new.”

On the screen, was a picture of an odd-looking plane. It was labelled, “MQ-1 Predator”. Jeremiah tuned back in to the reporter who was saying, “...been told at least three HAVE been launched and will be covering the aliens as they approach Atlanta.”

The banner at the bottom of the screen read, “President orders drone coverage of aliens.” Jeremiah’s stomach turned.

On the news, they were discussing drones, payloads, Hellfire missiles and the aliens’ apparently bulletproof skin.

Jeremiah understood the impulse to keep an eye on the aliens as they came into a major metropolitan area, but it seemed VERY likely to him that these drones were going to end up being magicked into giant birds, no