We call them the Aliens. Dad insists they are Invaders.

All their fault was not answering our messages. What if we were calling the wrong number?

Ten days ago, we watched their mothership show its big fat ass to satellites. The world was in utter excitement and panic on Arrival Day-as called by the media. In Egypt, we spent the first two days following Arrival Day in curfew. On day three, we made jokes about those Aliens. It's an Egyptian tradition. We have been mocking ourselves, our rulers and our miserable lives since the age of Pharaohs.

Starting from day six, life has been back to normal; crowded streets, increasing prices and arguments with Dad. Aliens' jokes are not funny anymore, and new theories regarding them arise every hour. Our neighbor, Mr. Fekry, who always promotes for conspiracy theory, believes that the Russians-and maybe the Chinese-are behind the whole thing to bring down the American and European stock markets.

I'm really disappointed.

I've expected a more exciting entrance for the Aliens. Something like the sci-fi stuff I wasted most of my last sixteen years-my entire life-watching and reading. A huge cloud like the one in Independence Day. Or the Alien's commander, with his green, oval face and long ears, sending his greetings on TV to all earthlings, saying we come in peace.

But nothing has happened. Boring, you Aliens!

Mostafa was right when he advised me to stop watching the sky, hoping I might spot a flying saucer. Maybe it's about time to seriously reconsider resuming my life as a nerd and try something different. Something cooler. While I'm still afraid it's too late to join the party, Mostafa insists there's always a chance to start fresh in the first year of college. "Meet new guys who have no idea who the hell you were before college, and avoid old acquaintances who know too much," he advised me once. Though he is an old acquaintance himself, I can't avoid him. He's my best and only buddy. Sometimes I wonder why he's still sticking with me.

"And get rid of your Zouba," Mostafa told me. "Even if your father doesn't get you a new ride, never ever take Zouba to campus."

Mostafa is not exaggerating, I believe. My Zouba is a 1984 Fiat 128-it's older than me-and its condition is really pathetic. Yesterday it broke down for the millionth time, and the mechanic told me it needed a new radiator. Dammit. I can never pick up girls with that piece of junk.

But my chances should be better with the 2005 Honda Civic I'm driving right now.

I don't know what I was thinking the moment I snatched Dad's keys from the console table. Maybe I've lost my mind since I received that phone call from Mostafa.

"I'm hanging out with Yara today, and she told me she would bring a friend of hers," he said. "Why don't you come, champ, to practice?"

"Practice?" I echoed like an idiot.

"Yeah, practice. Like studying, you nerd. Have you ever gone to an exam without studying?"

"Yeah. I mean no, but..."

"There's no buts," he insisted. "You should never hesitate when you find a chance."

I never went out with girls before, except my 9-year-old sister. "But I don't know what we should talk about."

"And that's the point, Mr. Goodie Goodie. After two weeks, you will meet a herd of girls in college. You must start your lessons now!"

"My lessons," I mused. "What's her name?"

"Shakinaz."

"Shahinaz, you mean?"

"No, Shakinaz. Make sure you pronounce it right."

I never heard that name before. "Doesn't Yara have other friends with easier names?" I asked.

"Look who's dictating his terms!" He scoffed. "She's cute, you novice! That matters much more than her name."

I'm a novice indeed. Only two weeks remaining and I'm not ready for the new era of university. I must practice before launching the new Ali. That's why I didn't resist the temptation of borrowing Dad's car. I thought I could make an impressive entrance with it.

I start to feel ridiculous after five minutes of driving on Corniche1. Five minutes and no girls staring or gaping at me. Now I realize that my delusions about my new ride do not differ from Dad's delusions about the Invaders who have invaded nothing yet.

It's almost 5 P.M. and all Alexandrians are driving back home. The traffic is too heavy, and I don't remember the last time I pressed the accelerator. Come on! Come on! Come on! I don't know much about hanging out with girls, but I know it's not nice to make them wait. Not a good start with Yara's friend.

I feel nervous. Perhaps I can make use of my time in this jam to think of topics for my conversation with my date. Or I'd rather think of topics I should avoid. A chattering about the Aliens is tempting, but I shouldn't go too far. Otherwise I would sound like a geek. If I'm lucky enough, she will be a geek, too.

What about her name? It can be a fun start for our chatter.

I'm Ali.

I'm Shakinaz

Shakinaz? Interesting name.

Interesting shouldn't be the word. Unique would sound better. Her answer would be 'thanks' with a smile.

Sha..ki..naz. It's a Persian name, right?

Yeah, it means...

Suddenly the car is dead. Dammit! She was about to tell me the meaning of her name.

All gauges are zeroed. I try to start the engine, but no vroom. Maybe there's something wrong with the key. Only one more key in Dad's chain looks like a car key. I try to insert it into the ignition, but it doesn't fit.

Even with this car! What the hell? Plainly, the problem is not about Zouba. It's about me; the luckless me.

I notice no car is moving. Not even on the other side of the road. In front of me, I see a taxi driver getting out of the window of his vehicle. The lady in the car on my left is desperately banging her window. Dammit again! Am I trapped, too? My door and window are stuck. I try the other doors and windows, but no good news. Yes, I am trapped, too.

I watch people set themselves free by smashing their car windows. Hell no! That's a really bad idea. If it's up to me to choose, I'll pick staying locked in the car until eternity. I won't give Dad more reasons to kill me.

I must call somebody who knows what to do in such a situation. Mostafa will laugh at me until eternity if he knows about my misfortune, but who else should I call? Dad? No way! I pick my phone, but it's switched off for some reason. I press all buttons, but the phone doesn't respond. This is my lucky day!

Can it get any worse?

The street is packed, as if all of the Alexandrians have come to Corniche. People are more than cars.

I'm startled by a bald, stout man who knocks the Civic rear windshield. "Get down!" he demands, gesturing with a metallic bar in his hand.

"No!" I yell, waving. But he's not looking or listening. He's determined to rescue me. Too late to stop him. I duck my head between my knees and cover my head with my arms. I'm not just seeking protection from the shattered glass; I can't bear the horrible sight of the smashed windshield of my car...I mean Dad's car. He'll kill me for that.

My rescuer clears the sharp edges with his bar and reaches out to me. "Come on! Beware of the splinters!" He motions me to come out.

"Make way for me. I'll get out on my own." I give him a dismissive gesture. He leaves, frowning, as if I am supposed to thank him or something.

I ease myself out of the broken windshield, trying not to hurt my hands with the glass shards. As I gaze straight ahead, I see endless columns of dead cars. I hear someone mumble about a power cut in the building he lives in. No, it's a major power failure in the whole neighborhood, another one puts in. A third one swears he saw a rocket falling from the sky. A lady wails it was a plane, and suddenly a few more women and girls join the rant. I don't know what the hell they are ranting about; I haven't seen the damned rocket nor the damned plane. I need to get out of here before I go nuts like them.

But wait; the car. Dad's Civic. I can't imagine I'm going to simply leave it here, in the middle of Corniche that has become in one minute the biggest garage in Alexandria. Putting my hands on my waist, I stare at the Civic, my mind muddled. The clamor is growing, and I feel like bellowing at all these morons. They're just panicked, while I feel panicked, frustrated and confused. Suddenly, the world has decided to stand still because I dared to think of going out on a date. How unfair! Why me? This chaos could have been postponed to tomorrow, dammit!

I notice I'm not the only one whose phone is dead. And in a few minutes, I also notice I'm not the only one who notices he's not the only one whose phone is dead. The problem is much worse than a power cut, you idiots! Actually, I'm no exception. I'm just another idiot who has no idea what the hell is going on.

There's nothing I can do, but I can't simply leave Dad's car. We are nearing an hour and I can't feel a glimpse of hope. I see mechanics entering the scene, trying their luck with some cars, but not a single engine responds. Obviously, we'll spend the whole night here.

Oh my God! Night!

I realize that this city is about to witness its-literally-darkest night ever. Now I have something to worry about much more than my long lost date and my soon forgotten car. Panic is just reaching another dimension.

* * * *

So, this is how the city looked like thousands of years ago.

I rambled in late nights before, but I never saw Alexandria this dark. Even when electricity went off, there was always a fade ray of light coming from somewhere. Sometimes it was the New Bibliotheca Alexandrina2; lights never went out there. But not this night. This night, darkness reigns over the whole world, even the Bibliotheca has fallen to it.

All men of Alexandria are in the streets now in front of their buildings, gathered around fire. Some of them carry cudgels and metallic chains, staring at me when I pass by them. I can't see their eyes, but I can tell from their dark figures they are looking at me. "You should hurry back home, son," one of them advises me. I want to tell him it's a bad idea to hurry while you can't see what's beneath your feet. I'd stumbled twice before I reached him. As I don't feel like talking at the moment, I just nod.

I remember I read that penguins make long journeys between the ocean and their breeding grounds; journeys that take months on foot. I'm a penguin now, I tell myself, yet my journey is much shorter. As my legs are killing me, I realize I'm not as a strong as a penguin.

At last, I spot my block at the end of my line of sight. I'm the heart of the penguin, I remind myself. The March of Ali is going to end soon.

As I arrive, the scene at our block is not much different from what I saw in my journey. Our neighbors are gathered around a fire they made at the entrance. Each one of them is carrying a weapon; either wooden or metal. All except Dad who carries nothing. Perhaps, he has his pistol strapped to his waist.

"Ali?" Dad called out, his voice betrays his doubt. I'm sure the way I walk makes me look like a zombie.

"Thank God! He's fine!" said Mr. Fekry, our neighbor who lives in the second floor. I recognize other familiar faces, but I don't recall their names. I'm surprised they all know me. I'm received by pats on the shoulder and the head before Dad rescues me from this forest of tangling arms.

"Where were you?" Dad asks me. I know this tone; a mix of worry and rebuke.

"Corniche," I reply. "Near Commander Ibrahim Mosque3."

"And my car?" he resumes the interrogation.

"I left it there," I swallow. I'm not sure whether it's nervousness or thirst.

"Oh God!" one of our neighbors exclaims. His name is Sameh, I remember. "Is everything there down like here? The cars and the mobiles and everything?"

"Everything's dead, sir," I reply.

"This is unbelievable!" Mr. Fekry puts his hands on his waist, contemplating the cars that occupy the street. "What happened to these machines?"

"EMP." The thought suddenly crosses my mind. I know he won't understand what I'm talking about. Only a geek, like me, will get it. I read about it before in the Future File series4.

"What did you just say?" Dad's eyes widened.

It's a waste of time to explain to him. Probably, he will ridicule my source of knowledge if I tell him where I brought that from.

"You mean an electromagnetic pulse, right?" Dad asks. I'm stunned now, nodding with my jaw dropped down.

"You know about it?" I ask.

"Of course, smarty." He smirks. "Did you forget that your father is a retired Navy Commodore? The question is how do you know about such stuff?"

I never thought that Navy guys would know about such stuff. But this is not the only thing that surprises me; it's the look in Dad's eyes. "An EMP," he muses, holding his chin. "We're in real danger if what you say is right, son."

Well, this completes the series of shocking events of today. A date bloop. An EMP. And Dad taking me seriously. A day to be remembered in the history of mankind.

"Let's go upstairs. Your mom's worried sick about you." He grabs a stick from the ground, ignites it with the small fire they made on the sidewalk and walks me inside our building. "We'll be back soon. Excuse us," he tells our neighbors.

Another journey in the darkness to reach our apartment, but it's a much shorter one this time. Thank God, we live in the first floor.

"Can you imagine how grave our situation will be," Dad stops in front of the door of our apartment, looking at me, "if your theory is right?"

I'm still not used to being taken seriously by him. My theory? It seems that Dad can't help thinking of it. "Will be?" I echo cautiously. "Isn't it grave already?"

"This is just the beginning, I believe," he sighs. "Having lost all means of communication, there's no way to know the extent of EMP damage, but I presume the Invaders have hit the entire city at least."

"The Aliens?" I correct him for no reason. "Do you think they are the ones behind this attack?"

"Who else?" Dad simpered. "Don't you find any connection between their presence and the EMP attack? And I thought you were smarter than that!"

Ignoring his remark about my IQ, I say, "They have been there in the sky for ten days. What have they been waiting for, then? Why didn't they attack us from the beginning?"

"I bet their attack checklist includes: studying the battlefield and planning for the attack," Dad replied. "And obviously, they've just started. We're totally isolated now, and we can't ask for help."

"Do you think they're going to send their troops?" I start to imagine the sky full of flying saucers. I should have been careful for what I had wished for.

"God only knows, son." Dad shakes his head. "But I can tell that Alexandria has become a dangerous place to stay in. You must leave-all of you-to Kom Hamada5 tomorrow."

"We? What about you, Dad?"

"I must stay. I can't leave without finding a way out for the people here. I see panic and chaos coming soon."

You must be kidding me. What way out? What people? Wake up, Dad! No need for heroic stances. You're not in the Navy anymore. You must believe you're now a civilian, just like anybody else in this building. You're not obliged to anybody except your family.

"Dad, you can't-"

"You're not going to tell me what I can do and what I can't," he interrupts, wagging his finger firmly. "I'm not discussing this with you; I'm informing you what's going to happen."

"But why Kom Hamada?" I wonder if there is any reason other than the fact that his parents live there. "Why don't we go to our uncle in Cairo instead?"

"Because, it's big cities what they're going to start with. A small town like Kom Hamada will be a safe place...for the time being." His lips make a firm line.

"Until when, Dad? Won't we restore our life again?"

"I know you're concerned about home, friends, college, but we're on the verge of a new era, Ali. A new era where we're going to forget about our previous, normal lives and become soldiers. Let's hope this era won't stay for long. I'm sure, our armed forces will be mustered soon to fight the Invaders."

I don't want to disappoint him. If half of the crap we knew about aliens from sci-fi books and movies is true, we're screwed.

"Dad, I don't like the idea of splitting ourselves." I shake my head. "Either we stay together, or run away together."

"Listen, Ali." He holds my shoulders, leaning forward toward me. "As a military officer, I can't escape from a battlefield. But as a family man, I must keep you away from danger. Don't underestimate the task I'm assigning to you. I know you're man enough to take the responsibility of ensuring the safety of your mother and sister."

I look him in the eye, speechless. I don't know whether he really means what he says, or he just tells me that to persuade me with his plan. Which brings up the question: "What's the plan?" I ask.

"The plan for what?"

"The plan for leaving the city. Are we going to use a cart for instance?"

"Using a cart is plan B. Where are my keys?"

"The keys." I'm struck by the question. I dig into the pockets of my jeans, but there are no keys. "I forgot them in the car."

"Then, we must get it. You will get it tomorrow morning."

"Alright, but..." I'm confused. "The Civic is dead, like all cars in this city." I'm not sure if I told him already that fact, so I tell him again. Maybe he intends to fix it. But what is he going to do with the keys and not the car itself?

"Yes, I know." He nods. "That's why I'm betting on another car."

No way. "You're not talking about my Fiat." I shake my head.

"No." He chuckles. "Your Fiat is not old enough."

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Glossary:

1. Corniche: One of the main streets in Alexandria. Adjacent to the coast, it runs across the whole city from east to west.

2. New Bibliotheca Alexandrina: A major library and cultural center located on the shore of the Mediterranean. It is a commemoration of the Library of Alexandria, one of the largest and most significant libraries of the ancient world before its destruction in AD 391.

3. Commander Ibrahim Mosque: One of the most renowned mosques in Alexandria. It was built in 1948, in the centennial year of the death of Ibrahim Pasha, the eldest son of Muhammad Ali Pasha.

4. Future File Series: One of the most popular Sci-Fi novel series that was published in Egypt from 1984 until 2010.

5. Kom Hamada: A town outside Alexandria.

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The 5th Wave portrays the alien apocalyptic world in an amazingly plausible plot. That's why I was absorbed in the book and I became a big fan of Cassie. It made me really believe that if an alien invasion was to happen, it would be like that, and I would feel and act just like Cassie.

The exciting news is that Sony Pictures is bringing The 5th Wave to the big screen in 2016. I couldn't resist the temptation of living the thrilling experience myself, and that's why I wrote this story, Blue Death. I hope you like Ali's struggle with Mother Nature, as well as himself, to survive.

Don't miss The 5th Wave in theaters. The movie premieres January 15th, 2016. Watch and enjoy!

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