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Just so you know, Deak is a very odd guy. He jumps to conclusions, has a hard time making up his mind, and often comes up with crazy ideas to explain away confusion... Just telling you so you’re not surprised by some of the weird stuff he comes up with in this chapter. ’

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Deak was unlocking the front door when a flurry of movement caught his attention. Turning, he watched in perplexed silence as the blurry forms of the Gobbers, his next door neighbors, scurried about in their yard. From what he could see, their car was piled high and packed with every belonging that could possibly be lifted from the house in a rush.

Squinting into the rain, Deak’s mouth opened with a small, questioning sound. The whole street was abandoned, cars gone, front doors left ajar... Swallowing the lump of fear rising from his chest, he jogged across his lawn and leaned against the fence. “Hey-HEY! Kevin!”

Kevin Gobbers turned, hand held over his eyes as he turned from his wife. He shifted in nervous impatience, holding the driver’s door open. “What!”

“What the hell is going on? Where is everyone? It looks like the whole town’s gone!” Deak shook his head, flinging wet hair from his eyes.

“The whole town IS gone!” Kevin was climbing in the car. “Didn’t you see the news?! Get what you need and get the hell out of here, we’re evacuating!”

“WHAT?!” Deak walked along his fence, hands jumping to each plank as he followed his neighbor’s car’s movement down the driveway. “Wait!”

But it was too late. The Gobbers sped down the deserted street, their two small children waving around some potted plants stuffed against the back window. Deak waved back weakly, completely soaked and standing in a puddle on the grass fringing the sidewalk.

Evacuate? Why- Were they being bombed? Poison gas leakage? Alien invasion? What the hell was going on here?

He turned, trudging back to his front door to give the key a final twist and step inside. It occurred to him that the reason for the evacuation didn’t matter- whatever it was, it was sure to be unpleasant if the whole town was sent running.

Deak looked around his front hall blankly, mind racing with questions that left no room for decisive thinking. What did he need to bring? Hell if he knew. Raising a hand to his elbow, he pinched down. Hard.

Ok. Going for a little trip- like camping. Yea. What did someone take camping? Fishing pole- no, he wouldn’t need a fishing pole- FOOD. Right.

Adrenaline sent him careening down the short hall to the kitchen, spurred on by the frightening sense of not knowing what might happen, or had already happened. Minutes later, he couldn’t recall exactly what happened, but he suddenly found himself clutching a large white garbage bag of canned soups, frozen vegetables, baggies of sandwich meat, a carton of old orange juice, and what looked like his underwear drawer dumped on top.

The wet squeak of the bag against his shoulder brought Deak back to reality. He didn’t have a car, didn’t know where to go, and didn’t even know what it was he was running from. For all he knew, this was all some big scam. His hurried walk slowed until he was standing awkwardly on the sidewalk, about three houses down from his driveway.

Now that the exciting rush had worn away with his original bafflement, he noticed a few scattered homes that still looked occupied. There was Lee Var’s precious sports car, Ted’s smelly old hound dog, a few lit windows.... If they were ok staying, why should he run off like a moron carrying a trash bag?

Deak’s shoulders rose as he ducked his head, suddenly feeling very vulnerable and silly. When this insanity passed over, he just knew someone would turn up with a finger to point and a story to tell about seeing him running down the street like a madman. He played with the idea of dropping the bag where he stood and making a casual stroll back down the street- but some obscure voice in the back of his mind pointed out his mother’s habit of writing initials on all his boxers when she visited... It would only come back to bite him in the ass all the harder.

And so he turned, face burning against the cold water crashing over his head, and made his way home at what he hoped was a reasonable pace. He plopped down on his couch, sopping clothes and all, and allowed himself a short bark of laughter. It turned into a lengthy snigger when he turned to see the bag sitting next to him like a lumpy, white companion who’d eaten all his food and underwear.

Shaking his head, Deak flicked the remote up from beneath the cushions to turn on the tv. He flipped through the channels, leaning forward against his knees as he searched out a clear news channel.

He jumped as a familiar clicking noise reached his ears and cast a wide-eyed look over his shoulder in a brief moment of panic before he realized it was coming from the tv. Damn static. The spokesman wavered in and out of sight next to a fuzzy video clip of something blue.

(-are saying the kidnappings won’t be necessary if they are given voluntary-’)

“Damn it.” Deak searched out a different channel, annoyed by the grainy images he was getting. The damn antenna was acting up again.

(-has coined the use of the term ‘advocate’ to describe those-’)

“Shit.” Nope, still not clear.

(Virginia is to be evacuated IMMEDIATELY, I repeat, if you are in the state of Virginia, you are to evacuate IMMEDIATELY. Anyone in Virginia will be assumed to be advocates- One last time, I repeat; Virginia is to be evacuated by nine o’ clock- This is serious people-)

“Oh, for goodness sake!” Deak growled, dropping the remote in disgust. Nothing was showing clearly- the only thing he knew for sure was that he definitely wasn’t supposed to be in Virginia and that he had about ten minutes to get out of the state... Not happening on foot. He was just going to have to wait this out and whatever happened, happened. After all, better to be inside and cozy when disaster strikes than wandering around blindly in the rain.

When it became clear the news wasn’t planning to do more than tell him to get his idle ass a-movin’, he dragged his trash bag back into the kitchen and dug around for the makings of a sandwich- ahhh, what would he ever do without ramen and sandwich meats? Hopefully, his boss at the grocery store wouldn’t mind him taking the day off; weird, clicking giants and state evacuations considered...

Now, Deak never really made much of an effort to keep track of his neighbors, preferring to mind his own business... but, sitting there with his chewy ham sandwich, complete with the knowledge that the town, the state his house sat in was probably near-desolate... well, it was a bit unnerving. Silence; the buzz of electricity and his own slow chewing thundered in his ears and he could hear the vague static of the tv from the other room.

Already, he could tell this was going to be a long day- and probably a long night.

Deak took a swig from the juice carton, making a face at the slight bitterness. Definitely getting old. Wiping his mouth on an old napkin, he pushed up from the counter stool and brushed crumbs from his soggy jacket. What could he do to pass time?

Easy- what was the usual cure for cold water? Hot water. A shower. Wonderful idea. Deak gave himself a mental pat on the back, kicking off his sneakers and leaving a wet trail of sock prints to the small bathroom.

Deak turned the shower on high, taking his time stripping off his t-shirt as he waited for the water to heat up. Steam was weaving around the curtain when he finally stepped from his boxers and into the scorching spray. Ooh, that felt good.

Despite the troubled jumble his mind was in, Deak felt a small grin tug at the corner of his lips as his toes curled, tingling as they warmed rapidly. Running around, he hadn’t quite realized how cold he’d been. With a final violent shudder, his cold shivers ceased and he tilted his head back against the water, scrubbing soapy knuckles through his hair. He peeked back around the shower curtain, eyeing the old watch sitting by the sink.

Seven fifty-six. Four minutes and Deak would either find out what horrible disaster was coming, or learn about it on the news tomorrow. He rolled his eyes, ducking back under the shower head. Rubbing the soap bar over his face, he bumped against the side of the tub and heard something shatter.

“Eh-ack!” Deak cursed as suds spilled into his eyes, grabbing blindly for a towel to wipe away the sharp sting and see what he’d knocked over. Watery eyes scanned the bare, tiled floor to find nothing out of place. No glass, the shampoo bottle was still balancing against the wall...

Leaning over, Deak turned the water off, patting his hair down before pushing the curtain over to step out from the tub. Steam hovered thinly in the hair, clinging to the mirror as if to save him from his reflection. “Stupid cat better not have snuck in again...”

Slipping his old boxers back on, Deak toweled off his legs and moved towards the door. “I’ll take that flea-infested brute to the vet if anything’s broken-”

Hand hovering over the door knob, Deak blinked as it seemed to turn on its own. Immediately, his mind jumped to ghosts, no, robbers- or maybe it was a French ninja attacking from Australia, or one of those escaped convicts the news people were always warning everyone about, a rabid dog- no, that was just silly. Dogs didn’t open doors.

Deak lunged forward, hands clasping the door handle, then leaned back and propped his feet close to the wall. Slipping a thumb around, he popped the lock shut and waited. The knob rattled lightly in his hold, then went still. A small pause, then the whole door shook.

Deak stared wide-eyed at his clenched hands, unable to let go at this point. Whoever was out there wanted in badly. He squeaked out the first thing that came to mind. “Stay out, I’m n-naked!”

Another pause. Deak peeled his fingers free and took a step back, breath frozen in his chest. The lock could hold out on its own, right? Right. Hand held to his head, he sank down onto the toilet seat.

Deak didn’t move at the loud crash against the door- or as a splash of splinters flew by. As a matter of fact, he didn’t move at all apart from the slight bunching of his shoulders, until a large hand clamped down on back of his neck, pressing down forcefully. Then he screamed.

A large man, similar in size to the giant from the coffee shop, towered over him. Long blonde hair hung limply over a narrow blue face, barely obscuring the odd, watery green eyes of his attacker. Deak turned his head, staring up from his awkward stooped position, and screamed again as sharp nails pricked at his skin. The massive blue man growled, hoisting him to his feet by the neck, andDeak was blinded by a wave of long brown coatslapping him in the face

“Zzilonks, eoomon. Greemonkt.”

Deak shook his head, tugging at a thick blue wrist in a panicked attempt to show he couldn’t breathe or understand the creature’s rough speech. How was he supposed to understand anything through all that tongue clicking? The hand loosened slightly.

“Greemonkt.” The man repeated, turning to plod out into the hall. Thudding, heavy footsteps shook the floor under Deak’s feet as he was pulled behind.

So this was it. Giant blue people with speech impediments were climbing from the sewers and kidnapping people to be their slaves… Deak shuddered. He knew he shouldn’t have poured that little cap-full of peroxide down the drain yesterday. Now he was going to be a sacrifice, he just knew it. Giving a little prayer and a promise to never flush the toilet again, he yelped as he got tugged out into the rain, red boxers flattening against his legs.

Deak was ready for a miserable, wet trudge to who-knows where, when the rain stopped. Just stopped. With a sense of déjà vu, he looked around at the shower flowing around, but not on, him. Nothing but swirling clear air above and a green light.

“The he- AGH!” Deak shrieked, hopping back as the giant disappeared in a flash of green. Neck freed, he turned to flee, only to find his feet lifting from the ground. The light surrounded him now, lifting him from the ground rapidly as he waved his arms in a weak attempt to swim back down. “HOLY SHIIIIIIIIT!”

A few houses down, Lee Var stared out his window, hands pressed against the glass. “.... Awesome. HEY! OVER HERE!”

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Crazy chapter? I know. I can assure you Deak’s of the same opinion.

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