Flight

The town isn't safe anymore, and you have no way of saving it. By now, Steve's doing no better than the innocent would-be people are. It's just you left here, and behind you, the road stretches out beyond the town and beyond the terrors that surround you. It stretches out towards freedom, and you need only accept its call. You can see no alternative.

"You seen this?"

"Yeah. Guess they quarantined whole buncha towns, tryin' a stop some monsters gettin' through. Least they say it's monsters. Ain't really buyin' it."

"Sure, but have you SEEN the monsters?"

"No. Probably just some big bucks or somethin' that ain't nobody 'expected out there. Probably just some fuss over nothin'."

"Hah, big bucks... yeah, that's probably what they're making covering this stuff. Seriously, you've gotta see these things!"

"I don't..."

The barkeep stops mid-sentence as he turns towards the screen behind the bar, dropping the mug he'd been cleaning in his hand. You don't need to look at the screen though. You know what it is, what it has been for the past few days. You managed to get pretty far away from it - fear makes men quick, and you had more of it these past nights than most have their entire lives - but it's still all you hear about. On the news, the random handful of videos they've managed to shoot without being caught. In the paper, pictures of the monstrosities you've seen firsthand, with stories of the failing attempts to stop them.

"I hear they want to just bomb the place. Wipe it off the map, make sure those things are stopped. Might be the only way, I guess."

Everyone on the flight seems so calm, so oblivious. Across the aisle, a woman sleeps peacefully. Beside you, a man reads an article detailing how a tactical missile strike on some strange monsters failed, how a handful of them managed to slip through the target area before it was hit. He learns of this unstoppable threat, reacting with fascination. He looks at pictures of the creatures with interest. Never does he show a hint of fear, of understanding... but you understand all too well. That's why you're sitting on this plane, the last of your savings spent to bring you overseas. You know you're only delaying the inevitable, that something that can survive a nuclear bomb should have no trouble crossing water, but the delay is enough for you. At least this way, you'll have a bit more time to think, a chance to feel like there's still something you can do.

At least this way, you can keep your humanity for just a little longer.