Skyfire by Doug Vossen

pitch black except for low light emanating from the windows and the dull, ambient illumination of the emergency power. 
    “Come on, Jessica.  Let’s go find a bathroom and get cleaned up.” 
    Jessica quietly followed until they found a public bathroom down the hall to the left, near the opposite end of the small building.  Trent immediately turned on two faucets and began scrubbing his hands and face.  The blood had crusted over, making it difficult to remove from underneath his fingernails.  He absolutely hated cleaning blood from underneath his nails.   I’ve seen this movie before and it’s fucking stupid.  It ends with people dead and me drunk and crying and no one else giving a fuck.  I bet this will all blow over in a few weeks and people will go on with their lives like it never happened. The crimson liquid circled the drain.  Eventually, the water in the sink went from red to clear.  Ha, how symbolic.  You pussy, don’t get all fucking bleary-eyed.  The kid.  Remember the kid.  And Emma.  Hold it together.  
    Jessica just stood there, staring back at her blood-streaked face in the mirror.  She was still processing what had occurred not five blocks from where they stood.
    “Come here, Jess. ” Trent took a wet, balled-up paper towel and wiped Jessica’s mother’s blood off her face.  It was surreal.  He wished the last two hours were just a horrible dream .
    “Look at that, I made a clean spot.  Now I guess I gotta do the whole thing.” Great, a Mark Twain reference over her head and now Ellen Ripley.  Good job, idiot.  Ten year-old girls who just watched their mother die don’t understand references to nineteenth century authors and movies from 1986.  I fucking suck.
    Jess stood compliantly before the sink as Trent wiped away all the blood.  “Trent, I want to know what’s happening,” she said, looking up.
    “I wish I knew the answer.  All I know is that whatever is happening is not normal and it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”
    “So that’s it?  That’s your answer?” Her tone was far too jaded for a ten year-old.
    “Alright, here’s the thing.  Before what happened with your mom, I saw something in Braddock Park.  I don’t know what it was, but I’m pretty sure I killed it.”
    “Do you like killing things?”
    “No, not at all.  I think-”
    “Because you seem to do it a lot.”
    “Look, an answer now is better than an answer when it’s too late.  Sometimes killing is necessary to get back to peace.” God, do I even believe that anymore?
    Jessica pointed her finger into Trent’s chest.  “If killing someone is the only way to have peace then I don’t want it.  It doesn’t even make sense!  You’re being dumb.”
    “Goddamn, Jess.  You’re too smart for your own good.  We need to make sure you stay alive.  There is a reason you have to exist.”
    “Ok, I’m asking you again then.  What now?”
    “Alright, here’s the deal.  The thing I saw in the park wasn’t a person. I mean, it wasn’t like you or me.  It looked . . . different.  Like something not from this planet.  I’m really confused so we need to learn more about that part. But here’s what I do know.  I know we don’t have power and it seems like the local government has lost control.  I haven’t seen cops or firefighters.  People are getting frustrated and will probably get hungry soon if they aren’t already.  We have about a week’s worth of food between the two of us.  Also, I’m sure you noticed those military helicopters flying down toward Jersey City.  If that’s the direction they’re flying and they’re not coming back, my bet is that they’ve set up a temporary forward operating base down there.”
    “So we go there then?”
    “Yeah.  It’s getting dark now though.  We’ll eat some of the food I’ve rationed and head out at dawn.  My guess is that they’ll have a refugee point there.  We can make sure you’re taken care of