Free In the After by Demitria Lunetta Page A

I used to love throwing them on the Fourth of July. They were just the right amount of safe and loud that my parents could reach a compromise on. No real fireworks for me. It was a good day when I found an unopened box of snappers in the attic. I had my mother to thank for that once again, since she didn’t like to throw things away.
    I duck into the kitchen and throw the snapper as hard as I can against the far wall. The creature is sniffing around the kitchen table, but runs toward the popping noise at full speed. Terrified, I nevertheless fight the urge to laugh hysterically as it smacks into the wall where the snapper hit. I take a deep breath, try to calm myself. It will not help if I panic. If I die, Amber won’t last long and Baby will be on her own.
    The creature is now studying the wall, touching it with its fleshy green hands, wondering what the noise had been. It doesn’t immediately turn and focus back in on the room. It knows something was there, something loud, but does not understand where it went. I hear Amber move in the other room and the floor creaks. The creature’s head snaps in the direction of the doorway, exactly where I’m standing.
    I’m exposed. It is a cloudless night. Moonlight filters in the window, bathing the kitchen in a soft, silver glow. I can’t risk moving back into the shadows. I try to stay absolutely still.
    Most people probably lose their nerve when they are this close to Them. They run or scream, not in control enough to realize it will get them killed.
    But I am calm. I am collected. I am nothing more than a statue, a decoration. The noise was just the house settling, a breeze through the window.
    I hear a low thump in the backyard past the shattered glass door. The creature’s face twitches.
    Go check it out , I think at the monster. Maybe it’s a tasty rabbit .
    Before I even finish my thought, I am blinded by a brilliant white light. I have to squint against the sudden brightness, which is so intense it makes my skin tingle.
    â€œWhat the . . .” Amber says from her hiding spot.
    The creature focuses on me, no longer wondering if I am there or not. It might as well be broad daylight. It can see me perfectly. It growls, muscles flexed to run.
    It rushes at me and there’s no place to go. Too late I think of the gun at my side. I’m panicked, and there is no way to reach it in time. I’m sorry, Baby . I fall to my knees. My hands instinctively fly in front of my face.
    But nothing happens. A long second ticks by. I peek past my fingers.
    The creature is barely a foot away, completely covered in some kind of net. It is being dragged back slowly while it tries desperately to escape. It pushes against its bonds and snaps its teeth at me. It is not happy it has missed its meal.
    I scramble to the doorway and hide behind the wall, where Amber still stands, shocked. I lie on the floor and poke my head out to watch. The creature is being reeled into a ship, the same dark, soundless ship that I witnessed landing in the park and have seen many times since then. It beams the light everywhere.
    The creature does not stop fighting, but it cannot break free. I can see just inside the doorway of the craft. There is a tall figure, clothed in black from head to toe. The figure holds a rope attached to the net that encases the creature. It pulls the still-struggling alien into the ship. The door shuts behind Them and the bright light goes out.
    The sudden darkness is a shock. By the time my eyes adjust, the ship has disappeared without making a sound.
    I get to my feet. We still have to go, and quickly. The light, no matter how brief, will attract more of Them like a beacon in the darkness. I run into the kitchen but Baby is not there.
    Panicked, I search around the chairs and under the table. Where would she have hidden? I freeze in the middle of the room and crouch, my head in my hands. What if she didn’t have time to hide? My eyes