Title: El Hijo II
Author: Seulement Moi
Rating: PG-13
Classification: Vignette/Angst, William's POV
Spoilers: The Truth, William.
Archive: Anywhere, just let me know so I can visit :)
Disclaimer: They belong to Carter, Fox and 1013. FEEDBACK: Always cherished :)

Notes: This is a sequel for "El Hijo". Please read that one first so this piece makes sense. Thanks.

This is one is for Pat, who always sends encouraging feedback :)!

I'm sneaking out tonight. They are in a gathering, or so they call it. There is this big room they all go to and talk to each other with their minds. Something about them doesn't seem right. I can't explain it, but there is a blur in their thoughts, like an interference of some kind. I don't know what they are thinking, but sometimes I hear my name in their minds.

Some say I must be destroyed, that I hold the key to humans' survival. But others want to keep me, and I don't understand why. I just know I'm not safe here. They are stronger than me and they outnumber me by dozens. More arrive every day.

Lately, I haven't been able to read their minds, they have been injecting me with some fluid that numbs my 'gifted' sense. So I know something is up, I know that they are done making up their minds and my fate is the result of their decision.

I must leave.


I escape through the window in the bathroom. I'm slim, so I fit perfectly through it. I crawl on the dirt that surrounds the fort, staying low so no one can see me. But there is no one outside. A dead calm fills the air and I crawl rapidly until I get to the fence and step away.

I remember reading once about some girls in Australia who followed a fence to get back home. They, too, had been snatched from their homes against their will and were held captive. I wish that there were a fence I could follow or at least a home I knew how to return to.

But I am alone. And scared.

And for some reason, I seem to be really important.

I think there are others like me. But the supersoldiers keep talking about me and about you, my parents. Like if I were a menance they need to get rid of. But how could I be a menance? I'm afraid of them. I don't know how to destroy them or beat them. But still, they seem to think I can.

How did this happen? Howcome nobody knew they were coming? I still remember the first newsflash on tv, the first alarm of fires around the city. And then the forecasts stopped. Nobody was on tv anymore. At first we thought it was the signal. But then it dawned on us. There was no one to give the news anymore. The few humans that survived the first attacks had hidden in bunkers and in storm shelters.

It was December 22, 2012.

About a month has passed. I'm not sure anymore. All my posessions were taken away when I was brought to the fort. I lost my clothes, my watch, my baseball card collection. The only thing I was able to keep was my golden cross. My Mother called it a compass, the one that would finally bring me back to you.

But I'm losing hope. Sometimes I think it's too late. The streets are so quiet. I run through burning buildings, abandoned cars and lonely streets. There is no one here anymore. In my mind I can only hear distant whimpers, calls for help, life extinguishing. The aliens have taken over, the world's population has been infected with the alien virus.

I know some people are alive. I hear them sometimes. But not as often as I would wish. Hearing them makes me think that maybe there is hope, that the battle is not lost. That somehow my survival does represent a threat to the alien invaders.

Alien aircrafts hover over the sky, searching. I stop everytime a light comes my way. I hide under every piece of debris I pass, just to make sure no one is following me. And I can only hear silence. Sometimes, a low hum from the aircrafts floating nearby, but basically nothing. Just the sound of fire burning, consuming anything that could resemble human life.

I'm losing my faith. I'm lost.

I cling to my compass, wishing it could speak to me and tell me which way to go. Away from the danger and closer to you.

Sometimes I think I hear your voices, calling my name. But how could I recognize you if I never knew you? How can I know who you are when I see you? I think I recognize your voices, but I'm not sure it's you. I often hear prayers, female prayers, directed to God, pleading that I am safe. To be kept safe.

But why would I want to survive if everything is gone?

After the world ends, who would want to stand and watch?

I continue walking towards what I think would be the street to lead me to the federal building. Somehow my photographic memory finally paid off and all the time I spent memorizing maps was worth for something. But something is wrong. I can sense it. I am being followed.

I turn to the first house I see. I crawl into an open window and I am greeted by the stench of burnt plastic and flesh. I dare not look around. I know what I would find. I hear some bees humming in other room. But I'm not worried about them. The footsteps are getting closer. They've come through the door and I see a shadow standing a few feet from where I'm crouched down.

The shadow stays still. Looking around the rooms. Two feet away from the door and all you see is pitch black. His shadow is eerily cast by the burning buildings across the street. It comes forward, in a slow motion. I know that if I move, the noise will give me away. So I stay quietly in place.

A sudden voice in my head makes me shiver. A whisper.


He's calling my name. He's thinking my name.

It's too late. He knows I'm here. I need to run.

When I try to get up and make a run for it, he grabs me by the shoulders and leads me closer to the light.

I can't fight him. I'm petrified.


I gasp, hoping to see in the light a monster, an alien, one of those weird looking aliens that are like men but have their faces disfigured. The men that carry torches and set each other on fire.

But this is just a man. His eyes pierce through mine.


His voice is soft and his expression shows concern. A feeling I haven't experienced since the war broke out.

His thoughts jumble through my head.

<PleaseletitbeWilliam.Pleaseletitbehim.Ifoundhim.He'salive. ThankGod>

I finally choke out an answer. A yes or something like it. I don't know which, but it sounds like a whimper to me. But he seems to understand and smiles at me. A sigh of relief escaping his lips.

"William. I'm John Dogget. I've been looking for you for such a long time. I'm going to take you to your parents." He whispers to me.

My parents. He knows my parents. The real ones.

"Can you take me to them? I need to find them."

He nods and smiles again, his eyes tired but clearly happy. He leads me to a car down the alley. A woman seats on the front seat. A brunette. The engine starts as soon as I close the door. She turns around as soon as we're off the street and on a dirt road. Her dark eyes studying me. Her face filled with joy.

"My God, I can't believe it. William. We've finally found you". She smiles fondly at me.

I get the impression this people know me, as the son of my parents, not as the weird kid with the gift. I like it. They seem honestly glad that I am well.

"Honey, I'm Monica. Your parents will be so happy to see you!".

John glances back at me. Monica stares at me through the rearview mirror. They both look so satisfied I can't help but smile.

I'm meeting my parents.

The world is on war and I can still smile.

I yearn to hear their voices. Ever since I knew I was adopted, I felt this need to meet them, to see them.

To understand.

Why did they have to give me away? Why couldn't I be safe with them? Why did the world have to end for me to meet them?

It didn't matter. Time was running out.

The day had come and I knew that from the moment I saw their faces everything would make sense.

I would know the truth.

The truth they had fought so long to protect me from.

Author's Notes: This has one last part coming up. Please be patient, it will be posted very soon. :)

Feedback appreciated at: seulementmoi101@hotmail.com

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