She wanted to reach out to Bill and the cat. It’d been so long since there’d been anyone or anything to love. But that would mean she had to give in without understanding why things had gone so wrong. Before Marie could stop or stand, Sam tugged on her arm.
“Keep low,” Sam said, then crawled away.
Even though it would be so nice to go back in, somehow Marie couldn’t do it. Instead she made her way behind Sam to the car. Marie pulled the passenger side door open, then turned to look back. A bank of fog, broke into slender fingers. It spread toward them. Panic set in.
“Stay down. They can’t differentiate us from the ground. If you stand up, even against the darkening sky, they can see you.”
“Who are they?” A quiver in Marie’s voice betrayed her.
“Don’t you know? When Bill and his friends were creating that game they were so fond of, a minor planet, a little bigger than an asteroid, came closer than anticipated to Earth.” Sam crawled into the driver’s side and slammed the door. She was careful to keep her head against the seat. “Other than that, we’re still not sure who ‘they’ are. Let’s talk more, once we get away from here.”
Bill had never included Marie in any of his games. She had always been glad about that. Now curiosity got the best of her. She knew that couldn’t be Bill behind her, but who was it? Could there be some part of him still there waiting for her? Marie would have run back toward the house, but the fog, soft and clammy, licked against her leg.
Sam reached over and pulled Marie’s door closed. “Keep low. Don’t look over the window,” she said.
The approaching mist swirled up the glass.
“Here.” Sam handed Marie a lighter. “If any of it gets inside, light this. Hold it away from you.”
Marie’s hand shook as she took the small device. Can I even light it, if I need to?
Without hesitation or looking back, Sam put the car in gear. She barely sat high enough to look over the dash. That didn’t stop her, she stomped on the gas. The car leapt forward.
Fingers of mist streaked Marie’s window. They climbed higher and higher, trying to wedge through the frame. Metal groaned. The door bent away from her, as if a large suction cup pulled against it. Lines spread across the glass. It was just like at the lake on a winter day, when the ice shattered letting everything on it fall into the freezing water below. Unlike before at the park, when the cracks spread out like a spider web, this time the window crumbled onto the passing street. Vapor grew in long thin tendrils, reaching inside.
“The lighter!” Sam screamed. “Ignite the lighter.”
Where she found the ability to stroke the igniter, Marie had no idea, but somehow she did. The flame grew when she used her other hand to twist the wheel that adjusted it. She held the lighter toward the shattered window. Tendrils of fog converged to wrap around her hand.
When the fire broke through the mist, a scream spilled inside the car with shards that gathered from the congealed liquid and shattered on the floorboards.
“Keep your hand moving.” The knuckles in Sam’s fingers turned white from the pressure she put on the steering wheel.