Exodus Eternal

Chapter 2: Flight From Earth

Trees were beginning to topple, and roofs were being blown off houses. Those in the dark uniforms looked at the sky and began moving faster, desperately.

A hand once again gripped Vesta's shoulder and pulled her to her feet. She looked up in surprise and realized the man from the end of her yard had come up behind her. Vesta stood in shock as she barely reached the man's chest. Although slender, the strength in the man's grip was crushing.

Merlot growled an insult from the safety of Vesta's arms but buried his head to avoid the wind. The rescuers were pulling all her neighbors to the black jet with great haste, sometimes even picking people up and carrying children. Some people were still running and driving carelessly down the road.

“My family," Vesta began, but couldn't avoid getting a mouthful of hot air and dust and began to cough. “My family…"

A dark gloved hand pointed to the jet and she felt a hand on her back and was guided forward.

“They must already be there!" Vesta realized.

Vesta looked over to the Fraser's house, where Mr. Fraser was fighting a dark-uniformed female.

“Mr. Fraser, they're trying to help us!" Vesta called.

The frightened man continued to swing. The female touched her helmet and was quickly joined by a crewmate.

“We should go, the weather's getting worse!" Vesta reasoned. “The military won't get to us in time!"

Mrs. Fraser appeared on the porch with her children and walked down her driveway towards her husband. She stepped to the center of the fight and nodded at the jet.

“Let's go, Adam," Mrs. Fraser smiled at Vesta. “Vesta's right."

“You're just going to trust these people, Leanna? Who are they? They're huge!" Mr. Fraser yelled.

The voices faded in and out with the wind, which now was making it difficult for even the rescuers to manage. Vesta let the hand on her back steady her and guide her until her toes bumped into the edge of the jet's door.

Like an old-fashioned movie, there were stairs leading up to the door. Vesta found herself pushed steadily up to the doorway and through it into a dim hallway. Before her eyes could adapt, Vesta was pushed farther into a space where several other neighbors were sitting on a bench-like structure on each side of the hall. The Fraser family was ushered in behind her, and squeezed into the small space that was left, children crying and parents tense and arguing.

Vesta looked up at the dark uniformed rescuers who were hastily closing the door and dispersing to different parts of the jet. The tallest one took a long look at Vesta and turned to the front of the jet. He touched the side of his helmet and the jet rumbled to life. Reaching up, the man took his gloved hand and pressed a glowing narrow button. Instantly a handle unfolded and he gripped it tightly. The jet lifted off the ground.

Silence and anxious breathing filled the cabin. Vesta noticed several people holding hands, and suddenly panicked.

“Where is my family? We can't leave without them!"

She gripped the now struggling Merlot and stood up. Vesta attempted to approach the rescuer. The tall man simply lifted one of his long legs and put his foot on Vesta's shoulder. With one push, she fell back into her seat. She asked about her family again and went to stand up one more time. The male rescuer kept her seated with just a pointed finger and shake of his head. He held up an open hand in a “stop" gesture. Tears filled Vesta's eyes.

Mrs. Fraser reached over and held Vesta's hand, “I saw there were more planes. I'm sure they would have gotten on one of the other ones."

Vesta's harsh breathing matched the other passengers, but her gaze never left the dark-uniformed man before her. She gritted her teeth against the inertia of the rising jet, feeling it struggle against the extreme weather. The rescuer reached his open hand to another button on the ceiling, pressing it and adjusting his stance. Vesta carefully noticed the long, lanky muscles on the man's calves and toned biceps. There was a sound of air rushing into the cabin, causing some of the passengers to mutter anxiously.

“Ugh," groaned a man across from Vesta. “When are we going to stop climbing? My guts are getting crushed."

Vesta paused. The grumbling man was right; they were still climbing. She could feel her ears popping and was starting to struggle with her breath. Once again, the gloved hand reached up and pushed a button. The sound of rushing air could be heard and Vesta noticed the group breathe a little easier.

A female in a helmet and dark outfit appeared from the front of the jet and began pulling straps from just above the passengers' heads, running the straps over the chests of everyone seated and clipping the ends into the seats.

“Why are you doing this?" asked a nervous teen with shaking hands. Beside him sat a young woman with her eyes pressed shut.

“Why are you doing this? Why aren't you saying anything?" The teen kicked at the female, who dodged the kick but backed into Vesta's leg. Merlot decided enough was enough and sprung dramatically from Vesta's arms. The dark uniforms both jumped, and stared, but did not stop what they were doing.

“Merlot! Merl! Kitty, ki, kitty!" Vesta watched in horror as Merlot's distraught fluff disappeared down the hall of the jet. She turned to her rescuers to plead for help, but the female strapped her in with a calm hand pressing Vesta into her seat.

A soft, reassuring whisper could be heard, but Vesta did not know the language.

“What the heck did she say?" a blond woman with brown eyes, a stylish bun, and gorgeous pink high heels muttered from Vesta's left. Vesta shrugged.

At that moment, the jet put on an incredible burst of speed. Everyone was pressed back into silence. The jet shook violently, then moved side to side, causing the passengers to grab the straps holding them to their seats. With a quick roll, everyone felt weightless until the jet leveled out again. Shrieks of fear came from a few people at the far end, and others began to pray.

“Are we going to crash?" the girl with closed eyes and clenched fists asked the boy beside her. “Why is it so cold?"

The jet suddenly went silent, all vibrations and swerving action stopped. Everyone caught their breath, mumbling and muttering as they checked on each other.

Vesta turned to see the tall male rescuer pull what seemed to be a screen from the side of the jet. The female pressed a couple of small, shining buttons and a glowing map appeared. Vesta assumed it was a map, as it had large and small dots, with what looked like stars between them all. The female traced the screen with her finger, leaving a vivid red line. The male used his fingers to correct the red line. Nodding, he took the small screen from the wall. Pressing a thumb and forefinger to their wrists, the rescuers stomped their feet on the floor then headed to the front of the jet.

“Does anyone know who these people are…" A gray-haired man asked from the far end of the bench. “...Or where we are?"

There were shaking heads, shrugs, and muttered no's from up and down the benches on each side. Vesta rubbed her arms briskly.

“I don't think they are part of the military. Perhaps we should have waited?" a timid voice asked.

Mr. Fraser scoffed, “They aren't part of the military, they are probably some rich, eccentric people with their own fleet of planes. If they ask me for money, they aren't getting any. This isn't a time to make money off your fellow man."

There were murmurs of agreement among the passengers.

“Do you think we can trust them?" Asked the girl who had kept her eyes closed until now. There were varied responses from the other passengers.

Vesta sighed then spoke, surprised at the confidence in her voice, “I don't think we have a choice. They got us out of there. The military wasn't going to come in time. Whoever they are, they saved us."

The tallest rescuer returned. Everyone turned to look, then began firing questions. He didn't answer, but slowly reached up and undid his helmet. With a hand on each side, the man lifted the helmet from his head. In an instant, there was no sound. No muttering, no complaining, no praying or crying.

Large, almond-shaped eyes the color of amber stared at the passengers from an angular, chiseled face. On his head, it looked to be stubble of hair the color of wet sand. The rescuer's neck was twice as long as a regular man's, but he was also almost double the height.

“He's not human," whispered a stunned Mr. Fraser.