Captain Phillips guided the military jet toward Avalon Springs, North Carolina. He led a squadron of military aircraft screaming across the blue sky. His years of training kept him from having a nervous breakdown.

Barely.

The target: Avalon Springs.

The problem: Alien invasion.

The strike command came straight from the White House. They were going to bomb Avalon Springs, a civilian target, to stop the alien invasion.

This is not what Captain Phillips imagined he would be doing when he joined the Air Force. He’d envisioned Afghanistan. Iraq. Maybe Russia. But never a military strike on U.S. soil. And never an alien invasion.

His heart beat faster.

Captain Phillips thought of his wife. His brother. His nieces and nephews. He could protect them. But in the town of Avalon Springs, he was going to kill people he’d never met. People with husbands, or wives, brothers and sisters. Children. Innocent people were going to die in the next few seconds. But the fate of humanity was on the line.

He’d never even seen an alien ship in the sky. No news about alien ships. He had no idea how the aliens arrived. But they were here.

“Steady,” Captain Phillips said into the comm. “Twenty seconds.”

He took a deep breath.

Lord, please forgive me for what I am about to do, he prayed silently.

He took a deep breath.

Fifteen seconds.

His heart beat faster.

Thirteen.

Twelve...

... Eleven...

“Abort,” said a voice. It was command. “The drill is over. Great work everyone. Return to base.”

Captain Phillips’ eyes narrowed.

Captain Phillips switched off his comm.

He took a long breath.

A drill?

Why had they waited so long to abort? If there had been any lag in communication, Avalon Springs would have been turned into a smoldering pile of cement and metal.

Idiots.

Probably some senator who wanted to throw his weight around to see how quickly the military could jump through hoops. Maybe to justify another military spending bill. There had never been aliens. Just a stupid military drill.

“Fuck!” Captain Phillips growled.

He’d really thought this was the end.

Stupid politicians.

Captain Phillips switched the comms back on.

“Alright, head back to base,” Captain Phillips said. “First round is on me.”

“Yes sir,” came the replies.

          *           *           *

Las Vegas, Nevada.

Dr. Eugene Ewing, professor of mathematics at UNLV, was dashing around his college office. He was an obese man, sweating heavily, a cup of cold coffee in his right hand. He was working with two other professors, trying to calculate a gravitational anomaly in North Carolina. All three professors were in their mid-thirties.

Dr. Steven Wright, astrophysics, and Dr. Michael Stint, computer engineering. Steven was the tallest, Michael was the thinnest. They had been contacted late last night by the Department of Homeland Security. They were told to start working immediately on unusual data pouring in from North Carolina.

The office was a mess of loose papers, post it notes, a white board covered in equations, and sloppy book shelves.

Eugene was laughing as he poured over the data sheets.

“It’s like a black hole,” Eugene said. “It’s sucking energy in—”

“But also sending energy out simultaneously,” Steven said. “Like a converter.”

“Energy converter.”

“Or a matter converter.”

“Nothing man made can do this,” Steven said, smiling wide. He had the giddy excitement of discovery. “This might kill all of us.”

“This is amazing,” Eugene said. “We might win the Nobel Prize.”

“This is government work” Steven said. “We can’t talk about this.”

Eugene laughed. Looked around the office.

“Talk about what?” Eugene asked nervously.

Michael and Eugene and Steven looked at each other.

Eugene shook his head.

The numbers on the white board, and the data on the papers in their hands, was all gone.

Eugene stared at the blank papers in his hands.

“We really need to not stay up so late drinking,” Michael said. “My head feels fuzzy.”

“I don’t even remember where we went last night,” Eugene snorted. “I’m getting too old to go out drinking on Sunday nights. I work at a college, but I’m not a college student.”

Eugene put his hands on his hips. He laughed weakly.

“Shit,” Eugene said. “I cannot remember what we were working on.”

“Let’s go get lunch,” Michael said. “Food always helps the brain.”

Eugene patted his round belly. “I’m not going to say no to that.”

The three men, silently more confused than they were letting on, made their way out of the office.

          *           *           *

The Avalon Springs police department.

Smoke rose from the building. There was a gaping hole in the second story of the police department. Police officers walked through the smoking rooms of the building.

“CALL OUT if you need help!” Officer Gentry shouted, still cradling his broken hand. “A gas line must have exploded. Shockwave caused a fireball ... maybe caused some of our guns to fire.”

“That DOESN’T make sense,” shouted another officer.

“Well how do you explain it?” Gentry shouted. “Why else did our guns go off? It’s not like we decided to start shooting at the walls for the fun of it.”

Smoke was thick in the air.

Gentry blinked, his head hurt.

Concussion? He didn’t know.

Something weird had happened.

Maybe the gas was making him dizzy. Making his thinking off.

Wait. If it was gas, people needed to get out of the building!

“Everybody!” Gentry shouted. “There’s a GAS LEAK. If you need help, call out. Look for injured people. Get out. If this place blows it will catch fire!”

Gentry looked at his broken hand.

How did that happen?

          *           *           *

Kaya ran out the back door of the police station in a small parking lot, surrounded by buildings, overcast by shadows. A few police vehicles were parked in this small parking lot. Abby and Savannah were right behind her. A few pieces of trash blue through the parking lot.

“What happened back there!” Savannah shouted. “Kaya! What is going on?”

“I can fix this,” Kaya said, giving herself a pep talk aloud. “I just... I need to get to the restaurant.”

Savannah, faster than Kaya, caught up to Kaya. Savannah grabbed Kaya’s arm, spun Kaya to face her.

“What are you talking about?” Savannah shouted. “What’s at the restaurant?”

“It’s complicated,” Kaya said.

“More complicated than our best friend kicking a bullet proof woman through a brick wall? And then Jordan flew. I didn’t know Jordan could fly. Is she a witch?”

“I don’t... I don’t know.”

“What’s at the restaurant?”

“It doesn’t exist.”

“What? Why are we going to a restaurant that doesn’t exist? And we know it exists because we’ve been there before.”

“No. We haven’t. Any memories you have of that place are fakes. Avalon Springs doesn’t exist either.”

“What is going on?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you fix it if you don’t know what’s going on?”

“I don’t know. But somehow this is my fault. And I’m going to fix it.”

Savannah and Abby stared at Kaya silently. Then Savannah nodded.

“Well, I’m coming with you,” Savannah said. Savannah crossed her arms, daring Kaya to argue with her.

“Me too,” Abby said. “What do we do?”

“We go to my house. We get guns,” Kaya said. “Then we go to the restaurant.”

“The police officers had guns,” Savannah said. “They shot that woman repeatedly. Their bullets didn’t do anything.”

Kaya sucked in her lips. Kaya stared at Savannah. Kaya waited.

Savannah didn’t say anything.

Neither did Abby.

“Either come up with a better plan, or we do mine,” Kaya said.

Savannah’s eyes shifted to a shadow behind Kaya.

Kaya turned, saw the tall blond star of the Avalon Springs girls’ basketball team: Jordan Spencer. Jordan leaned against a police motorcycle for balance. Jordan was covered in blood, a large gash in the center of her chest. Her body was shaking.

“Hey best friend,” Jordan said, voice cold. “I have... a question for you.”

Kaya swallowed, slowly nodded. “What’s up Jordan?”

“Why is it... that I don’t know when your birthday is...?”

“It’s complicated.”

Jordan clenched her right fist.