Prologue

I had partially awoke to the sound of a distant rumble of what sounded like thunder and my mother's voice.

I felt her shake me and I heard my name in a soft urgent voice. "Astro?" Another few shakes. "Astro Dean. Come on honey, wake up now. You need to get up and get dressed—we need to pack."

Need to pack?

Awake but pretending to be asleep still, I turned over and ignored her. I smiled to myself, thinking I could milk the moment for another few minutes before she got really angry with me. That was probably the last moment I truly felt happy.

I heard her start to hyperventilate. Was she having another panic attack? No, it couldn't be. Why would she be panicking? I knew her panic attacks and this wasn't an ordinary one. It certainly wasn't her ordinary voice she used when panic struck. With my intuition and thoughts running rampant, I knew now something was wrong.

Before I could turn over and ask her if everything was okay, she came out of her anxious hyperventilated cry and said "ASTRO DEAN LLEWELYN, GET YOUR ASS UP RIGHT NOW!" with a ferocity and fear in her voice I haven't heard since I was little. The fear was new.

My eyes flashed open as wide as they could go and I was frozen in place for a split second. In that instance, I knew she and the situation were serious.

When I got up, I kept hearing these rumblings that reminded me of earthquakes. They were intense enough to set off car alarms nearby our apartment building. The holoscreen had some news anchor nervously rattling off details of a hodgepodge report she was receiving through an earpiece. Something about being invaded or attacked by someone or something—I couldn't tell what because it was difficult to make out. The holoscreen's signal started to get disrupted; both the picture and sound were glitching in and out simultaneously.

"Mom? What are they talking about? We're being attacked or something? By who?" I asked out of the side of my mouth, head halfway turned between her and the screen, in a confused stupor.

She paid no heed to my question. "Dean, we don't have time for this! Grab a weeks worth of clothes and supplies. You'll wanna take socks, underwear, shirts, pants, water, non-perishables, snacks; whatever you can fit in a duffle bag. Do it now and do it quickly!"

The rumbles grew more and more intense with shorter intervals. Nervously, I quickly began to pack.

I was almost done. I was beside the window when scattered ant-like movement down in the street caught my attention. Curious, I peered down. I grabbed a pair of binoculars to get a closer look and saw people running around in the streets! Riots had broken out and cars were crashed and smoking—owners of the vehicles were arguing, waving their hands and arms at each other. Some got violent. Traffic was building, horns were being slammed on and stores were being robbed—good people that I knew since I was little were being victimized. They were the unfortunate recipients of bricks, trash cans or random bicycles being thrown through their store windows. I had to look away. This was getting really serious and I still didn't know what was going on.

I turned around closing my eyes and clenching my fists. I had tears in my eyes and fear in my heart—I could hear my heart thumping in my ears and my head started to spin.

I went back to packing and the next rumble hit and shook our entire apartment building. All of our furniture shifted violently and objects fell off of shelves in a chaotic clutter on the floor—glasses shattered and fine china blew apart.

I turned my head immediately in the direction of the explosive sound. All I saw was enormous plumes of flame and smoke a few miles away. A group of three large black-colored starships emerged from behind the ominous wall of death they had just made. The sight of them threw me into instant shock and terror, "Invaders..." I whispered. The starships were closing in fast. They were headed right for our building!

My mom was right—We needed to get the fuck out of there, and fast!

I was 18 when the invaders attacked Earth.