As they drove along the highway, Trent had an odd feeling. He was only eight, but he knew something wasn't right. He thought endless desert in all directions was scary.

His mother and aunt were chatting with each other about movies. Trent loved his mom; he would sometimes just watch her talk and gaze in admiration. His father stared silently at the road, as if a machine completing its duty. Aunt Julie was friendly, although Trent didn't know her well, so he wasn't quite comfortable around her yet. But his mother seemed to enjoy her company, so Trent supposed she was okay. Trent shifted his gaze back outside. There were rolling dirt hills, dead plants, and tumbleweeds for as far as he could see. They were supposed to be going to Disneyland, but Trent couldn't understand why they were way out here.

Trent was frightened, but he didn't know why. Everything seemed to be fine.

Then it happened.

An enormous flash of smoke and flames cut through the peaceful sky, and came crashing down onto the highway just ahead. Before Trent's father could finish yelling whatever it was he was trying to say, the windshield burst through and the vehicle filled with heat so thick Trent could taste it. The car then slammed violently into the burning mass, and everything inside the car tried to keep moving forward. Trent watched his mother's body rise out of her passenger seat and glide out into the unforgiving doom.

Once all movement had ceased, Trent realized that having been seated behind his father, he was uninjured. Aunt Julie moaned. She was hunched over, and he could see blood stains on her shirt, growing bigger. Glass from the windshield had pierced her body all over, and when she turned towards him, he saw it was in her face too. Her right eye was a red wound.

"Are you okay Aunt Julie?" he got no reply.

He tried to open his door, but it wouldn't budge. The electric window wouldn't respond. He was trapped in this death box.

"Dad help!" again no reply.

Several small explosions continued within the flames ahead, but it seemed as though it was starting to lose its intensity.

Trent wanted to get out of the car and help his mom. He proceeded to crawl towards his aunt so he could try her door. He gently moved her against the back of her seat, and started to reach for the handle. He looked over his left shoulder to see his father. His face was unrecognizable. It was black and charred. Flames were still burning in his hair, and a metal pole of some sort was piercing his torso. Just as Trent was beginning to cry, his aunt grabbed at him frantically and screamed.

"Help me please! Someone help! Trent, get your dad!"

"Aunt Julie, open your door, I can't get out!"

Suddenly another explosion from outside propelled an icicle-shaped piece of metal towards them, which slammed into his aunts shoulder, narrowly missing Trent's head. He felt warm liquids touching his arm, so he quickly retreated to his corner of the car. Blood was all over him, his family was dead, and he was scared. Trent looked at the metal in his aunt's shoulder. The end of it was hollow, and a green ooze began to seep out of it. It moved like a slug; slow and determined. It seemed alive. Trent began to cry, he curled up into a ball and turned away.

It felt sticky on his neck.

Trenton Cole snapped up in his bed. He was covered in sweat. Almost 15 years had passed, but he was still tormented by that day. He looked over at his window; it was still dark. His clock read 4:05am. Still too early. Trent rinsed his face off, drank some water, and lay back down to try and get more sleep before work.