Human

Richard St. John was a hard case. Raised in the Waste since his early teens, he had only scattered memories of the way the world had been before the aliens came-before the attack from orbit tore apart the fabric of the world.

He'd wanted to be a doctor in the old days, but the crystal bombardment destroyed everything long before he was old enough to go to medical school. His mother died in the first wave, leaving his father heartbroken. But Rick's father, Zach, was a survivor. He'd packed Rick up and they'd headed for the mountains in his pickup truck. They'd just barely made it before the next orbit when the attacks began anew.

Zachariah St. John had been both a doctor and an Army Ranger in the old United States and he taught his son everything he knew about living off the land and surviving in the wild. Rick's old man had a sixth sense about nature and was able to keep them both safe through the waves of attacks that followed, each time the Earth rotated fully on its axis. They'd moved farther into the mountains, working their way north, into the deepest recesses of the Rocky Mountains. They kept up with radio reports about the decimated coastlines as tsunamis spawned by the massive crystal shards hitting the Earth's oceans killed by the millions.

One day, their small transistor radio stopped working entirely. Only static met repeated attempts to tune in a station-any station at all. Civilization, as they'd known it, was over.

"Guess that's it," Zach said, stowing the antenna and switching off the radio. "We're on our own now."

The last broadcast had listed details of nearly unimaginable devastation. Coastlines all over the world under water from giant tsunamis. California separated down the line of the San Andreas fault. Massive earthquakes brought on by the crystal bombardment from space had finally clipped the golden state nearly in half. The ring of fire was more active than ever with two or three volcanoes erupting violently in the Pacific and Pacific Northwest.

The sky was dark with soot covering the sun, and autumn came early that year, but by the following summer, temperatures started drifting back to normal. The sun shone brightly in the sky-but so did alien craft.

Zach St. John took in the news spreading through the wastelands of the Rockies-now called simply the Waste-with his typical calm. They'd run into a trader one morning who told of tall, fair-haired aliens building a silver city on the plains. Rick asked his dad about it that night at dinner.

"I figured it was something like this, son," Zach said as he dressed the rabbit they'd snared for dinner. "The attack came from orbit. First thing to go down was my sat phone and GPS. Not many world powers who could do that, and none that could launch an attack on the entire planet. Had to be something from outer space."

"Aliens?" Rick wasn't entirely surprised. They'd talked about various possibilities often during the early days. "So they're not little and green like in the old movies."

"According to the trader, they look a lot like us, but with elf ears." Zach finished with the rabbit and looked at his son. "This changes things. Now that they're on the surface, they might just start hunting. Up 'til now, all we had to worry about was other men. The stakes are higher now, because any race that can do what they did to our planet has got to have superior weaponry. You're going to have to learn to defend yourself, and we'll make plans for when they come."

Rick thought it significant that his father said "when" and not "if".

He spent the next ten years learning from his dad and growing to adulthood. They'd met a few fellow survivors along the way, but not many, and not often. They grew close in those years.

Zach shared an amazing secret that helped keep them both alive. He had a strong gift of empathy with animals, and could sometimes pick up their thought images and see through their eyes, sensing when the animals of the forest were scared or felt threatened. He could also read people, but only when he touched them.

Rick had his own secrets. He finally let his father in on the biggest of them. He could heal most wounds by simply laying his hand over them and thinking real hard. That was why he'd wanted to study medicine-to find out how he did what he did, but also to help people with his gift.

Through their infrequent interactions with other survivors, they realized they weren't the only ones with psychic abilities. It seemed like every single soul they met had something different about them. Many had small amounts of precognitive ability that had led them out of harm's way before the attack began. Some were telepaths, some could move things with their minds. Others had combinations of skills that were often benign, but some were downright deadly.

All in all, Rick preferred to be on his own-just him and his dad. They didn't need the society of others, except for one thing, but hetero sex was hard to come by since there were so few women among the survivors of humanity. Still, Rick grew into a good-looking young man and the few women he was able to charm were as eager for him as he was for them.

But dalliances were few and far between as the lack of females turned many of the male survivors into beasts. Women went into hiding for their own protection, though few towns existed with even fewer inhabitants.

"I pity women today," Zach would often comment after contact with others. "They're traded like commodities, forced into whoring or multi-partner families. That's not the way it was, son. You should always remember that. You were old enough to know the way it should be. The way our family was. God knows, I miss your mother more every day, but I wouldn't have wanted her to see the level of depravity to which we have sunk."

Rick took all his father's teachings to heart, but especially that one. He'd just been starting to date when the cataclysm happened and felt strongly that girls should be protected, not exploited. Every time he saw some poor, frightened creature creeping about a settlement under guard by one of her protectors, the lesson was driven home again. He'd never sink that low.

The likelihood he'd ever have a woman of his own was close to nil, but Rick didn't curse fate-at least not too often. He had his dad. That was more family than most people could claim nowadays. So the St. John men lived off the land in their own small cabin out in the middle of nowhere.

Until the Alvians came.

They heard the ships fly by in the night and then the miniscule sounds of one landing not far away. Silently Zach signaled his grown son to head for the woods behind the cabin. They'd planned for this kind of thing. Each man would fend for himself, since two together were more likely to be captured or killed. They had a rendezvous and backup plan already in place.

Zach grabbed his son for one last hug before they headed out the doors-Zach out the front, and Rick out the back.

That was the last time Rick St. John saw his father.

Copyright (c) 2008 by Bianca D'Arc. All Rights Reserved.