Sarah writhed and squirmed until she made her way out from under the dead weight of Mike, inhaling dust, gagging and coughing as she went. "Mike! Mike!" She screamed, shaking his body. "Mike! Mike!"
Mike coughed, and made to sit up. Sarah assisted him until he was in a sitting postion, brushing dust and splinters of wood and even glass off him as best he could. No blood, though, she thought, and sighed. As she signed she inhaled dust.
He heeved, wheezed, and burst into a serious coughing spasm. He managed to his knees, holding his shoulders up with one hand pressed on the floor, the other on Sarah's knee. "Inhaler!" he gasped.
"Yes, your inhaler," she said, "Where is it?" He didn't respond. "
MIKE! WHERE IS YOUR INHALER!"
Mike reached into his pocket, pulled out an inhaler, coughed, pulled off the cap, coughed, put the inhaler mouthpiece into his mouth, coughed, inhaled with a squirt and a huff, coughed, inhaled with a squirt again, coughed, inhaled with a squir again and again.
"Oh, my God, that feels better," he said, taking deep easy breaths now. His breathing was rapid, but Sarah could tell he was breathing easier. He'd seen him like this before, but never LIKE THIS! Never THIS bad.
"Holy, Cow!" Mike said, "Look at this place." Sarah was so concerned about Mike she completely forgot what made him so bad. Looking around she saw pieces of wood and drywall dust and glass over everything in the house. The front wall was busted open, and the windows shattered. A couple large pieces of wood busted through the padio door, and were lying askew on the floor. That could have it us! The idea busted through her mind. That could have landed on Lance, killing him, and crushing us both. We could be dead.
"Sarah! That old green house across the street blew up!" Mike said.
Sarah peered out the opening in the front of the room and saw he was right. The house across the street was barely a shell. All that remained of it was half a wall on the right. Otherwise it was almost completely incinerated, taking with it some of both homes on either side. Flames shot up from what was left, and flames roared from the houses around it.
"What happened, Mike? You think it was (she paused, as the idea was so scary she could barely make herself say it) the aliens."
"Sarah, shit! I don't know. But we gotta get the hell out of here. We gotta get out quick."
"Where's my backpack?" She looked around, kicking aside boards as she searched.
"Put your blouse over your mouth and nose, like this," Mike said. Sarah turned and saw Mike had his blue (well, it used to be blue. Now it was whitish from drywall dust from the explosion) shirt pulled over his nose and mouth. She did the same with her blouse.
"Ah, there it is!" she said, and bent to pick up the back back. When, all of a sudden (and it was right about here she swears she hears Mike say, "Holy Shit!") a force strikes her from her right side and knocks her right into Mike, and they both fall to the ground with a mighty force.
Sarah picks her head up, looks toward the opening, and sees a large glass, silvery object coming through the opening. It was (or so her mind interpreted) floating. It was hovering over the ground. It was coming in fast.
"It's just as Lance, described, Sarah!" Mike yelled. "Man, let's get the hell out of here. Run, Sarah! Run!"
With a single motion Sarah grabbed her back pack, Mike's inhaler (which somehow ended up on the ground) and followed Mike through the kitchen, through the back door, and into the backyard. She ran, alongside Mike, for her life.