It Can't Touch Us

The Murphy family was sitting down to a meal of chicken and rice as the noises began outside.

Kyle was bringing his plate to the table when he stopped and stared out the window for a few moments.

"That red blotchy thing in the sky got bigger today," he said as he sat beside his sister, Meg. "I think the damn thing is fucking ugly."

His mother, Karen, caught her breath and dropped her fork in surprise. "Kyle! What have I told you about that language?! Just because you're in high school now does not mean that you have the right to talk like one of your father's poker buddies!"

Kyle looked down at his plate and apologized. He prodded the chicken around his plate with his fork.

"Sorry, mom."

Kyle's dad walked into the kitchen. He stopped in front of the window and for a moment, he was framed within the pulsating red and purple bruise-like spot in the sky.

"What about my poker group?" he asked, a hint of repressed anger in his voice.

"Nothing, Scott," said Karen. She took a sip of her water. Without looking up from her meal, she reached out to the television sitting next to the table and, with a flick of her wrist, turned it on. The news was on. A stammering, ashen-faced news anchor was trying as best he could to read from the teleprompter. He was failing miserably.

"Th- the President is expected to make an announcement - um- shortly. That, that this is most certainly, the - the ." He began to shake, sweat and tears dripping down his face. "Oh God!"

"Could we please turn that down?" huffed Meg. "I absolutely can't stand retarded noise while I'm trying to eat."

"Sure," said Kyle, turning the volume down on the newscaster, who was now sobbing into his hands. "Oh, and by the way, Meg, I really like that sweatshirt you're wearing. I like it so much that I bought it with my own money two months ago before you stole it from my drawer this morning."

"Ha!" said Meg, flatly. "I wouldn't have to steal clothes all the time if someone would get my laundry done once in a while." She glared at Karen.

"Do your own laundry," said Karen. "Just because I'm laid off doesn't mean I'm suddenly going to turn into June McStayathomehousewife." There was a short pause as a shower of hail hit the roof of the house with a deafening roar. Somewhere outside, a window shattered.

Karen looked at her piece of chicken with suspicion. "Scott, are you sure this is cooked all the way? It looks a little pink."

"Yes dear, I'm positive it's cooked all the way."

"Because I had a cousin with salmonella once, and he was so sick that he-"

"Ugh!" choked Meg, as she dropped her fork to the table. "Could we please not talk about this gross crap at dinner?"

There was a long pause where the only sounds were forks clicking against dinner plates. In the distance, there were some very faint human screams.

The lights flickered.

"I have half a mind to sue that jerk who rewired our house," said Scott.

"Make sure you don't forget the mechanic and the plumber. I'm certain there's a conspiracy between those three against us," said Karen.

There was another silence as all of the family's heads were bowed intently over their meals. Not one was looking at the window to notice the giant swarm of locusts flying by and devouring a tree in their backyard. A few minutes later, and four distinct balls of flame were advancing toward the earth from the spot in the sky.

The lights went out; the only light now was a pale red glow from the spot shining through the window.

Karen lit a candle, muttering something under her breath about the electrician.

"Heh," laughed Scott. "Lucky for me I got that raise today, or else this little problem (Scott pointed at the ceiling) would've put us in the hole."

"Oh did you?" asked Karen, half-excitedly. She was quiet for a moment before saying: "All that food in the freezer will spoil now."

Meg and Kyle stood up at once, "The ice cream!" they shouted.

"Sure," said Karen, "I guess you can eat it. But could you get me another glass of water while you're up?"

Kyle took her glass in his hand and turned the knob to the faucet. "Mom, I think there's something wrong with the sink, the water's all thick and red." He paused, "And it stinks ."

Karen just sighed. "Everything's going to crap," she muttered.

Meg shrieked. In the window was a man with blisters slowing spreading over his face. He was pounding on the glass, weakly, with one hand. He seemed to be mouthing pleas to be allowed inside.

Meg simply closed the blinds. "The bums in this town are getting out of control; the cops should get up off their fat butts and do something about it."

Kyle happily sat down at the table with his bowl full of ice cream. Between the slits in the blinds, he could have seen everything outside rotting away in the matter of seconds. The blistered man was being drug away from the house by a shrouded figure on horseback.

Scott got up, handing Meg a candle. "Just because the power's out doesn't mean you can get away without doing your homework. I want your grades up by next report card or I'm never buying you a car."

Meg groaned and swiped the candle away from her father. She walked upstairs.

"Well," said Karen. "I guess there's no point in staying awake for Leno with the power out. I'm going to bed early." She walked out of the kitchen.

"OK, dear," said Scott. "Kyle, you should probably go too, you have football practice tomorrow."

Kyle got up and quietly obeyed without telling his father goodnight.

Scott sat at the table alone, musing over his day at work. He realized that the beer in the fridge would probably get warm and skunked without the power on. He decided to finish off the case while it was still cold.

Halfway through his third beer, he noticed a stack of letters sitting on the countertop. He thought that he had better get those bills down to the mailbox before he forgot about it the next morning. He grabbed the stack and started for the door.

He stopped as he looked outside from his doorstep. The whole world was nothing but gray rock and decaying husks of houses. A slush-like rain streamed down on his face from above. It smelled like sewage.

Two shambling figures in rags stepped out from around the corner of the house. They quickly advanced on Scott, grabbing him by the neck of his shirt with both pairs of their long, muck-encrusted claws. One of them spoke in a fluid-filled voice out of a rotting hole in its neck.

"Welcome to Eternity," it gurgled as it dragged Scott into the night under the pale red sky.

Scott only wondered how many times he would have to wash his shirt before the stink of the rain would come out.