Free Untaken by J.E. Anckorn Page A

plan.
    “They’re scared,” said Dad, when I came back with my haul. “But they’re only scared enough to run; like that’ll make a lick of difference.”
    I brewed up some of the Biedermann’s fancy organic coffee and we took the steaming mugs outdoors to drink in front of the radio.
    “Give it a rest,” Dad finally said as I dialed through the bands, trying to find some news. “It’d just be more of the same anyway. Them Generals got themselves believing all that ‘we come in peace’ bullshit the government scientists been trying to sell. You mark my words, them politicians are gonna tie the hands of our troops, until there isn’t a damn thing we can do.”
    I knew Dad was right. Back when the Space Men had first arrived, scientist after scientist had appeared on screen, yakking on and on about “the need for contact” and “exercising caution” until my head spun.
    “What’s gonna happen eventually is that the Army’ll tell them political types and pencil necks where to shove it,” Dad said. “And then we’ll kick some alien ass, all right?”
    “Guess so,” I said.
    “Darn tootin’.”
    We kind of grinned at each other a moment.
    That night, I lay awake in spite of my aches and pains. Who knew what funky weapons were on those ships? I’d been so caught up in fortifying the house and enjoying Dad’s good mood, that I hadn’t stopped to think about what might be happening now, just a few miles down the road. The Space Men could be here any day. If there really was a battle, would I be able to step up and fight like a soldier? I had enough trouble killing rabbits—would I really be able to shoot straight when the time came?
    Yes, I decided. So long as Dad was beside me, I’d make him proud.
    I’d step up.
    Everything would be okay.

Gracie
    he sun was starting to go down again when there was a knock on the door. All the fear and hope I’d held in all day seemed to get stuck in my throat, making it hard to breathe. I ran to the door, and my hands were so slick with sweat I had to fold a big wad of my T-shirt around the door handle before I could open it.
    When I finally got the damn thing open, it was just Mr. Novak from across the road.
    “Hey there, Gracie, are the rest of your family”—he paused, like he searched for the appropriate words, then settled on—“home?”
    “Just me,” I said, trying to hide the disappointment in my voice. “Dad was at work, and Mom and the boys were at the Common.”
    Mr. Novak was a nice guy, and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings by seeming upset that he was still alive and kicking instead of my family. Him and his wife, Wilma, didn’t have any kids of their own and sometimes that means grownups are grumpy with kids, but the Novaks were the other kind—the people who gave us popsicles in the summer, and never minded if our games spilled across from our lawn to theirs.
    “Well, honey, I’m sure they’re all fine,” he said. “They’ve been playing something on the radio just now about an emergency center where folks should gather together. Wilma and I are headed over there and we think it would be best if you came along with us.”
    Mr. Novak patted my shoulder awkwardly. “I know you want to wait here for your folks, but you’re more likely to find them at the center.”
    “I know,” I replied. “I wanted to stick here awhile longer though. They haven’t had time to get here yet, and—”
    “That’s true, honey, but I don’t think you should be here in this big old house alone. Something…might happen again, and your folks would want you to be somewhere safe, wouldn’t they?”
    Mr. Novak was right. I felt kind of bad leaving our house, but it would be nice to have grown-ups with me. Not to mention a ride to Needham, which wasn’t exactly a short stroll.
    “Okay,” I said. “I gotta leave them a note though, so they’ll know where I am when they get here. And I have to pack my stuff.”
    “Just the essentials,” said Mr.