PART 3: "FORJOOLEYE"
Luke scrambled to his knees.
Finally, he thought. Help has arrived!
But what Luke saw as he crawled out from beneath their make-shift shelter was not the floodlights of a helicopter or a search-and-rescue plane.
Tendrils of green light erupted in the heavens and streaked silently across the starless night sky, fading to nothing.
He gazed up at this display for a long time, mouth open, wondering what the hell was going on.
"Do you think they're nukes?" a male voice asked.
Startled, Luke turned to find Ronaldo and the girl standing beside him.
"Not sure," Luke admitted. But he doubted that they were. There were hundreds of them, if not thousands; they blazed across the atmosphere, darting randomly in all directions, burning in and out of existence.
Despite the flying grit, the girl's lilac eyes were wide with wonder. Emerald shadows radiated across her upturned face, and her mouth was creased by a smile. She pointed with a tiny finger: "Forjooleye."
Both Luke and Ronaldo turned to each other, surprised. At first they had no idea what she had just said. Then it dawned on Luke that she must think the lights are fireworks and that today is the Fourth of July. If only it really was Forjooleye. This was the first time either of them had heard her speak. She looked up at them and giggled. Her laugh was sweet, melodic and so out of place in their current surrounds.
Then one of the lights grew large, and a strange whistling sound trailed in its wake. It seemed to be headed straight for them.
That's definitely not fireworks, Luke thought. "Run!"
"What?"
"Just run!" Luke repeated. He shoved Ronaldo in the direction of their rusty refuge.
As the wistling sound turned into a supersonic roar, Luke scooped up the girl and dived for cover.
(c) Copyright Eugene Gramelis, 2011
Well, there it is folks: Part 3. The plot thickens. Hope you enjoyed.
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