A long low whistle broke the ery silence of the house. Slowly more low whistles answered the call, and soft movements were heard throughout the room.
“Its okay everybody, their gone,” A young teenage boy whispered when everybody whistled back. Everyone stirred and moved out from their hiding spaces. Cautiously whistling to each other. I moved, crawling out from underneath the kitchen table, just as the lights flickered back on. Three boys, six teenagers, and two “adults” stood nervously around the room, glancing at the door as if expecting it to explode and a bunch of meanies to come out and start shooting.
“We chased them as far away as we could,” Gabe said softly. Gabe was the oldest of the group, at twenty two. With his blonde sleek hair, his rippling muscles, and his intense gaze, anyone who was smart wouldn’t get on his bad side. Alex stood next to him, the second youngest of the teenagers, only fourteen years old. He had dark brown hair, he was tall and lean, he had the brains of the crew. Then it went, Cody who was nine, Liam who was six, Jacob who was nineteen, Ashten who was sixteen, Xavier who was fifteen, Billy who was eight, Carter who was seventeen, Max who was thirteen, and me, I was fifteen.