I stared at her for a long moment, mind racing. Her dad knew my dad??

"If that's all true, then why haven't I seen you before?" I asked.

Tasha's hoodie shifted as a wind appeared with the sun climbing higher in the autumn sky. It nearly hid her small shrug.

"You have. You were just too little to remember," she replied. "When I was just a baby, your dad and mine used to chill together all the time. At least, that's what my dad told me. He told me that you, me, and Cam even used to play together with your mom watching us while they did prepper stuff. But something happened between your dad and mine after that and they stopped hanging out." She frowned at that and I got the impression her dad never told her why.

Talking about our dads made me think about mine. Usually he went on a scouting trip into the city every third or fourth day, to see how things were going. Today was the third day after his last trip. Suddenly I felt a chill of realization.

"My dad doesn't know about the hunters," I said in a hoarse whisper, my gun dropping to my side as my eyes flew wide with the realization. "They might see him." Adrenaline cold and silvery spilled into my veins as fear for not only my dad's, but my entire family's safety took hold. Then I was turning and running along the bottom edge of the road back towards home.

"No!" Tasha cried out, her voice nearly lost in the growing wind, a warm air chinook out of the mountains to the west. "It'll see you before you get there!"

I ignored her and kept running. It didn't matter. This was my family that I was thinking about, my dad. They had worked together to save my life through the first three waves. Heck, my dad had singlehandedly done more than any other person to help us survive the waves. I had to do everything I could to save them from this newest threat, this fourth wave of the alien attack. They were all I had left in this dying world.

As I ran as fast as I could with the heavy pack filled with guns and ammo bouncing on my back, I threw a quick look over my shoulder. As expected, Tasha hadn't followed me, her slender figure nowhere to be seen. While I kind of knew she wouldn't, I was still disappointed that she didn't. She had saved me from that first hunter. I had sort of hoped she'd help me get back to my family and avoid the second one watching the roads.

Unless, ... she didn't want me to go back.

After all, what did Tasha do after saving me from the first hunter? She took me to the ambush intersection away from my house. After that, she wanted to go to the river to check the distillery. No suggestion of warning my parents and Cam about the hunters even with all the talk of her knowing my family.

So yeah, thanks, Tasha, for saving my life and all. But what's your deal with not wanting me to go back to do the same for my entire family? I already didn't trust her. Thinking of what she had just done made me trust her even less. Then I was roughly pushing it aside to focus on getting back home.

Seeing a path on the opposite side of the road leading back up into the houses, I darted across and up the hill along the path. A couple anxiety-riddled moments later I was back amongst the houses. A quick look around to orient myself, then I was making a beeline for my street.

At this point, with fear and adrenaline charging my body, I wasn't concerned about alien hunters. If one had seen me, I'd already be dead. I was more worried about getting back to the house so I could warn everybody about the stupid things than getting a hole in the back of my head.

The chinook was blowing pretty hard by the time I rounded the last corner and began to run down the alley that led to the back gate in the fence around our house, the wind throwing up shifting clouds of dust as it made its way towards me. That forced me to throw up a hand to protect my face as I squinted against the dust. But not before I saw something on the ground close to where our back gate was.

Slowing down, I held my gun ready as I continued forward. Only to pull up short when an errant gust cleared the dust enough for me to see the four bodies lying unmoving on the ground by the partially open gate.

"What?" I stammered in a hoarse whisper, a surge of fear and anxiety tightening my entire body into a knot. Was I already too late?

Tossing my pack against the fence after fishing out a couple more clips, I took a shaky two-handed grip on the gun and carefully made my way forward. Now closer, I could see the bodies were wearing hunting gear, like the anarchists out at the ambush. Three were dead with shots to the chest and abdomen, their still warm blood pooling beneath their bodies.

The fourth, however, had a hole in the back of his head, confirming my panicky thought. There was a hunter somewhere nearby, maybe drawn in by the sounds of gunfire. With my heart pounding so loud I could hear it, I glanced warily at the rooftops with sight lines on the gate. In doing so, I spotted the scaling ladder propped up against the corner of our fence. It didn't take much to conclude that was how they got in. One went over to open the gate, which was locked from the inside, allowing the rest to come in.

I looked back down at the bodies, mute evidence that things didn't go strictly according to plan. Somebody inside must've heard them, and they came out to defend the gate, Dad maybe, or Cam. Which meant they could be hurt inside and needing my help. Wiping my palms one at a time on my pants to dry the nervous sweat, I took a new grip on my gun and eased in through the now open gate.

As I did, I did my best to ignore the feeling of somebody watching me from a distance. If the hunter was going to shoot me, you'd think he would've done it by now. Maybe he was just waiting to see if I could flush more people out of the house.

There were three more bodies just inside the gate, all with wounds to the chest and face. Okay, at least the hunter didn't get any of these guys. I saw a fourth a few steps towards the house with multiple wounds to the body, blood everywhere. I grimaced, imagining the amount of violence needed to do that kind of damage. Then I jerked in surprise when it moved and groaned with just enough volume that I recognized the voice.

Cam.

"Man, oh man, oh man," I stumbled over my words as I fell to my knees beside my brother, looking everywhere for something to stop the bleeding.

"Cam. Stay still, man. I, ... I've got to find something to stop the bleeding," I began to say.

"No," he croaked, his eyes fluttering open. It took a few seconds for them to focus on me.

"Liam." His eyes closed again. "Don't bother, bro. I'm done."

"What happened?" I asked, feeling hot tears flooding into my eyes, momentarily blurring the vision of my dying brother in front of me. Not another one. I couldn't lose yet another person close to me. I could feel my heart breaking yet again.

"Old friends of Dad's," Cam managed, his voice barely above a whisper as he faded fast. "Talked at the front while they broke in the back. They, ... they wanted our cache of supplies."

He went still then and, as I thought he had died, a jagged spear of loss stabbed me in the chest, filling me with icy agony.

"No," I sobbed. Then I jerked again in surprise when his hand grabbed me.

"Quiet," he burbled almost too softly for me to hear. "Still inside. Might hear you." Then he was pinning me with one last earnest gaze.

"Don't trust anyone, little brother. No-one." Then he was sagging back, his last breath rattling in his throat before he went still for the last time. My brother was dead.

Fighting hard to keep from crying out loud, I reached out to close his eyes before staggering back to my feet. I stared at Cam's body for a long second, my thoughts churning wildly.

If they were still inside, that meant they were still looking for Dad's cache. Cam had said they were old friends of Dad's, just like Tasha claimed her dad was. Maybe that's why she didn't want me to come back here. Because she knew these guys were coming here to take our stuff. I felt something harden inside me with that realization. Something dark.

If they were still inside and didn't know I was here, I could catch them unawares. I looked down at the gun in my hand. Then I was flicking off the safety. Catch them and kill them before they could get away.

Holding my gun steady in both hands and prepared to snap it up and fire in one motion, I stepped to the open back door, throwing a quick look inside before I eased carefully inside. A step or two in I found more bodies, these ones also shot in the chest and face. Stepping over them as quietly as I could, I slid down the hallway beyond, my gun going before me.

As I did, I could hear voices coming from the living room, my dad's voice and a stranger's. Hearing my dad galvanized me. He was still alive! And if Dad was still alive, then maybe Mom was, too. I quickly angled that way and tried to be as quiet as physically possible so I could sneak in close and maybe help them.

", ... just give us the supplies, Gary, and you can walk away from all this," the stranger was saying in a heavy, inflected voice. "I know you have a good cache. You were always the best hoarder out of all of us."

"Walk away, Will?" My dad's voice was filled with pain and anger. "You killed my only surviving son, stormed my house with your anarchist goons, and now threaten to take what we need to outlast the alien attack. How can I walk away with that over my head?"

"You managed to walk away from us, Gary," the man my dad named Will, replied, his own voice thickening with anger. "You broke my brother's heart when you did, and destroyed our faith in the effort to prepare for the end. Now his daughter has abandoned our cause, refusing to side with us as we work to destroy the old so the new can be born. All because she lost faith."

"Tasha abandoned you because you've gone insane, Will," my dad quickly fired back. "The alien attack has broken your mind. You should've listened to the tribal elders when they told you to keep out of the city and stay close to Brocket so you could protect the surviving families there. Yet here you are, murdering and pillaging in your quest for power."

That was when I eased forward just enough to look around the corner into the front room. My heart immediately leapt into my throat to see my mom and dad both down on their knees with their hands tied behind their backs. Outside of being visibly frightened, Mom appeared to be okay. But Dad looked like somebody had beaten the crap out of him, with large bruises on his face, a deep cut above one eye and another on his cheek, and a split lip, all three cuts leaking blood.

Standing all around them were a number of men in hunting gear, several of them looking as battered as my dad did. But my eyes were drawn immediately to the big man standing directly in front of my dad. A man who was leaning in to deliver a vicious punch to my dad's already bleeding face.

"You lack vision, Gary," Will tautly hissed as he straightened back up, wiping my dad's blood onto his pants. "We are liberating Lethbridge by purging the parasites infesting her flesh."

"I'm sure that's what the aliens attacking us are saying about Earth," my dad said, spitting blood.

That earned him another punch to the face, the blow nearly knocking him into Mom.

"Fool. We will succeed where my ancestors failed. We will drive the invaders from our land and give rise to a new civilization greater than any that came before it," Will snarled as a couple of the anarchists hauled my dad back up.

"Insane, like I said," my dad managed to say before another hard punch snapped his head back.

"Just give us the damn cache!" Will roared, punctuating each word with another punch.

That was enough for me to get ready to go around the corner and open fire. I was going to save Mom and Dad by killing this asshole and all of his buddies right here and now.

But before I could, somehow my dad spotted me peering around the corner. And in that split second that we made eye contact, I watched as he slowly shook his head 'no'.

That froze me in place just long enough for my father to look up at the anarchist leader looming over him and deliberately spit blood onto the man's boots.

"I'll die first," he said, staring hard at the man looking down at him. His face mottling with rage, Will pulled out a handgun.

"Wish granted!" he screamed and fired pointblank into my dad's face.

"Gary!!" my mom screamed in pain and horror as my dad flopped bonelessly back onto the floor. Then she was joining him as Will shot her, too.

Did, ... did that just happen?? Were my parents actually, ... dead?? Time seemed to slow down as I felt my whole world dissolve into a black abyss that threatened to suck me in, starting with my heart and soul.

Gone. My whole family was gone. I was now all alone. Alone to face an alien invasion on my own.

Then the room was erupting into chaos as the living room's bay window, blinds torn aside to let light in, exploded inward. A heartbeat later half of the anarchists were dropped with head shots in the space of a few eye blinks, leaving the rest, including a stunned Will Runningdeer, yelling in confusion.

I had almost forgotten about the hunter. But it hadn't forgotten about us. With the blinds torn away, it had a clear line of sight into the room. Which it was now making good use of.

In that instant of carnage, instinct kicked in. With a last look at my fallen parents, I turned and bolted down the hallway. A last second thought made me detour into the garage to grab the stuffed full backpack marked with my name from behind a tarp, something my dad called a 'bug out bag', then I was going out the side door and making for the back gate.

As I burst out the gate and turned to where I had thrown the pack full of guns, I heard a shout behind me. A glance back showed more anarchists running down the alley after me. That spurred me past the bag of guns as I sprinted all out trying to stay ahead of them.

Now, if only I could make the river valley, I might lose them.