Invasion (Alien Invasion, #1)

by Sean Platt

the three would seem to matter. “You’re not listening to me, Heather,” he said into the phone. “I’m going to be in LA from Friday to Tuesday. I’ve already booked time with the studio on Monday. The whole reason I’m coming early is—” Heather cut him off, probably to feed her need for a zinger more than a reply that couldn’t wait. Heather was always “on,” never really able to take a break and just be a person for once. It was one of the reasons they hadn’t been able to stay married. It was like living with a jester. “Because you want to do the

“Boston?” Meyer said the word as if he and Boston had an ongoing argument and everyone knew Boston was being an asshole about it. “Cancel it.” “Cancel it? This is

why you got custody of the kids. You’re so on top of things.” Meyer rolled his eyes at the empty penthouse. Heather’s dry, biting wit had made her career, and it’s what had attracted him to her

‘the other one.’ I remember my Other One. I wore pink chiffon. My date was Jimmy Breslin, and he could only get this powder-blue tux that smelled like cats had peed on it. Or were still peeing on it, like it had hidden compartments in the tux

works for you, Heather.” “You’re right. That’s why I hired a manager and give him, like, half my income.

Park. The weather was pleasant, and he considered going out onto the porch, but the wind looked rough. The roof terrace would be better, but not by much. That was the problem with tall buildings. You got a great view for an exorbitant price, but it’s like architects forgot how quickly the weather

he’d been looking forward to seeing her. Besides, telling Heather about the ayahuasca ceremony he’d already booked with the shaman (and paid for in full) seemed like a jinx. You weren’t supposed to plan surprises for your ex-wife — even

to dislike Piper, and if she’d been able, it might have made things easier for them both. Unfortunately, Piper was impossible not to love. “Fine,” Meyer said.

home. You don’t need to see me. You’re not flying commercial, are you?” “What am I, homeless?” “So it’s not like you need to go those specific dates anyway, if you’re taking the

bailed on something to run off and screw my ex?” “You didn’t have an ex back then.” But now he was just being juvenile. Meyer sighed. He’d get over it. He’d lose the

could certainly afford it. Not seeing Heather felt like the bigger hit. He hated to admit how much he missed her. Of course he loved Piper, but if there were such things as soul mates, Heather was his. Too bad she was so goddamned annoying.

two months, I’m going to hang myself.” He rolled his eyes for no one to see. The project was already three months overdue, and

would be annoying for the construction crew, he imagined, but it would be far more annoying for Meyer. He didn’t particularly want to navigate the backwoods roads on his two hundred

happened, he supposed he’d make it work. It would be a pain in the ass, but he’d do it. Any way to ensure the project got finished. Something under his skin — something he couldn’t quite articulate, but that he always glimpsed in those ceremonies with the shaman — had begun to feel very pressing

it was another day Meyer felt at loose ends, as if he’d misplaced his keys with no way to find them. “Then I’ll meet you in Vail in two months, and we’ll hang out,” said Heather. “I’ll want to take Piper and the kids when it’s finished.” Meyer hadn’t told any of them — Heather, Piper, or the kids — that he meant to

plenty of time together before, and he’d played the dutiful, faithful

mocking mercilessly. “Oh, baby,” she crowed, her always somewhat squeaky voice now exaggerated. “Are you disappointed?” “It’s fine, Heather.

always made Meyer want to punch something. “You miss me, don’t you?” “Maybe you’re doing me a favor,” he said, trying to put a positive spin on the situation and realizing he could easily find one. “I’ll save three days this way.” And he really would. Ayahuasca

generally obnoxious by the outside world’s standards. Heather would spend most of that time staring at the ceiling and talking about

cosmic puzzle he felt like he’d been assembling. He didn’t want to skip a swim in the eternal sea, but it was true that he could save a ton of time if he did. Or — and this was an intriguing option — Meyer could take the trip as planned, but hit

Given the bunker beneath the main house (already finished and mostly stocked, thanks to his last visit), it was a complicated project and vital to get right. The crews were good, but they were just construction guys. They’d follow the plans, but they didn’t share Meyer’s conviction that the concrete walls and sealing lead doors would one day be needed to stay alive. Even Heather didn’t

should go after all. If he didn’t make sure things were right, nobody would — and getting it right felt more essential with every passing day. He hadn’t told Piper that he planned to move the family to the ranch once the school year ended, and he definitely hadn’t told the kids. Trevor was already growing moody and would probably turn into a drama queen. Delilah would probably profess her undying love to her boyfriend and dig in her heels. Piper would go along with it all as

London place: somewhere to visit rather than live. “No, you’re bummed out,” said Heather, drawing the final words out into her babyish little girl squeal. “You want to play, and mean old Heather won’t let you.” “It’s totally fine,” he said, annoyed. “But if I don’t play with Sweet Little Meyer,

you know about sending the kids out. But I’m looking at the 17th through the 19th. Just for the weekend. That still good?” Heather said nothing.

end the call and try again when he heard her voice: small, distant, and chillingly cold. “Meyer,” she said. “Are those dates still clear for you? Into LAX. I can get flights that arrive most of the day, but afternoon arrivals work best for me unless I have

was another thing about living with Heather that had annoyed him to no end: the woman couldn’t abide silence. She always had noise on, and fell asleep with the TV blazing. “Heather?” “Meyer. Turn on the news.”

vibrated again. “Someone’s calling me, Heather. Just tell me yes or no on those dates. I need to have Piper buy tickets soon if you don’t want first class to fill up.” “Turn on the TV, Meyer.”

Meyer’s neck. “Turn it on!” Meyer’s phone buzzed again. “Look, I’ve got another call. Just … I’ll call you back.” “Don’t you dare hang up on me!” A third buzz. The

again. Meyer found himself wanting to throw it across the room. “Meyer, I’m …” Heather began, but he’d already pulled the phone away from his ear and was jabbing at its screen to switch calls. He pushed the wrong button, saw a message that he’d just ended the call with Heather, and felt a sudden urge to call her back before taking the new call. But the incoming ring was from

phone, still considering throwing it. Heather had rattled him. She had a way of doing that, but usually in a totally different way. Whatever had just happened was red hot and ice cold at once. Meyer, for the first time in God knew how long, felt his heart thumping in fear. The penthouse was quiet. He reached for the

know who to phone first. He slipped the cell into his pocket and crossed to the coffee table. Then he picked up the remote, tapped the glass to bring up the TV menu, and turned on the screen. He clicked to CNN from the selection screen and caught an attractive female anchor midsentence.

Astral app now. We’re told there are only about four seconds of delay as the signal bounces around the moon satellites, travels through space, and is processed by Astral here on Earth. So what you’re seeing is close to live.” Meyer squinted. The screen looked like nothing. “You can’t see much

meant, the station switched to it. The black screen with light specks was replaced by a much clearer image showing a cluster of small round objects. “NASA is saying they’re meteors,” said the woman’s voice. “Not unless meteors

New York Piper picked up her rolled blue mat and her small duffel, tossing a wave to Deb

the final few seconds of the unusually long Warrior One Greg had forced them to hold, when her tight hip flexors were screaming for mercy. She didn’t generally get calls from her husband. Most things earned her a text — maybe a call if he had something more complicated in mind, like deciding where to go to dinner on an indecisive night. But seven calls? Meyer was

she’d shown him, and she’d thought his reaction was as funny as the photo), then paused. She felt lightheaded — too much yoga, perhaps, followed by urgency one wasn’t supposed to feel after Savasana’s integrating peace. Piper was bubbly and almost naively optimistic by nature, but in times of crisis she always felt betrayed by her serene mind, going

something wrong with Lila? Had she fallen and cracked her skull? Was it something with Trevor? He’d been so moody and distant. Had Meyer found him dead, a victim of teen suicide? These things happened, and the old PBS specials Piper had grown up with always said you never really saw it coming. Relax. Jesus Christ,

handsome and powerful and on top of the world, but still fearing she’d find him crippled, panicked, somehow distraught enough to call seven times during one hour-long yoga class with the ringer off, blissfully ignorant of the world where terrible things might be happening to strong and confident husbands, while … “Piper, Jesus. Thank God you’re all right.” He sounded out of breath, as if

I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine?” “Have you seen the news? Or Astral? Have you checked Astral?” Piper was as amused by the Astral app as it seemed everyone was (the makers, Rysoft, credited their app for ushering in

asking about the space view app? Maybe the calls had been a mistake and everything was fine after all. Maybe he’d simply pocket-dialed her. Seven times. But no, he was clearly out of breath. Urgent. In no-bullshit mode. No matter what the world thought of Meyer Dempsey the mogul, he’d

found herself wishing he’d just say it and get it over with, so that at least it would be out in the open. “Have you called the school, Piper? I’ve tried. I can’t get through.” “Called the school?” “If you’ve already called, I’ll stop trying. But I need to get ready here, so I’d like

Piper said it, she thought she heard something out in the hallway — a dull crash, like someone slamming a door. But this was a yoga studio, and people traipsed the bamboo floors on slippers and pillows, speaking in whispers. Still, she could hear commotion on the level below. Looking up, Piper thought

around the emptying studio. Cell phones were required to be silenced in class, so during the movements the place was more or less severed from the outside world. Although she wondered now if the commotion outside had been going on long — nothing overt, just a generalized sense of increased energy — and whether Greg’s rainforest soundtrack had drowned it out. You were supposed to disconnect from the world

had seen her parents’ generation’s disaster fetish films. The idea of Earth-smashing celestial bodies had kept her up many nights as a kid. “No. Like … shit, just trust me, okay? Call the school. Pick up the kids.

speaking just as loudly — the ones who weren’t staring dumbfounded at their phones, their eyes wide and complexions like flour. “They think

gone. Piper stared at the phone, seriously considering offense that he’d hung up on her. It was a familiar, uniquely female emotion welling inside her. She wanted to wrap both hands around it, run to her nearest

attractive woman at twenty-nine and liked to flirt. She’d normally have returned his look, then engaged in some pointless banter. But not now. “They’re saying that …” Alan began. But Piper was already grabbing her bag, snatching her mat as if yoga might one day

saw scampering businessmen and businesswomen, still clinging to briefcases and satchels like useless tokens. Faces were lost. Piper found herself thinking of old footage of 9/11. New

the school, she’d drive there. Screw getting permission or notifying anyone in advance. Judging by what was happening around her, protocols no longer mattered. There was a security

phone blessedly rang, and was snatched up almost immediately by a harried-sounding woman. “What?” Piper’s brow knitted. “Is this … is this the Constellation School?”