When next I look up out the window of the VTOL, my mother and sister have left the area. Probably wandered off to some other continental portion of the globe, and from the size of the bare footprints I can see printed into the ocean floor, they’ve grown again, and considerably. They must be at least one thousand miles tall now. Thus, the seascape is abandoned. Or what remains of it, anyway; they managed to drink most of the ocean. Only a meager spread of water forms “puddles” of ponds and lakes in what was once among the deepest bodies of water on the entire vulnerable blue planet. All of it contained now in their powerful stomachs.

            The military vehicle receives new coordinates and is soon taking off again with extreme urgency. I’m making some progress on my antidote to the pill, which we could possibly disperse as an aerosol into the air supply of my mother and sister, assuming they even still utilize air; it occurs to me that their heads now exist outside of the bubble of oxygen surrounding earth. Yet they’re still moving. Meaning their mighty bodies have evolved fast enough to avoid such necessity of humans. Truly, they are gods now, not merely women who adopted the size of them, but actual deities, and all the gifts inherent therein.

            Weather patterns become frighteningly sporadic. It’s difficult to tell from so high up now, as we skirt the very rim of space inside earth’s atmosphere, but I get the impression my mother and sister haven’t merely passed these land structures and islands by, in all their growing malice. Nothing of earth’s geography that I recognize remains; my parent and sibling have kicked, clawed, and sucked their way through everything that stood in their path, and then some. It’s like looking down at an entirely different celestial body. From our height, I can just barely make out the newly formed mountain ranges caused by their enormous fingers digging into earth for handfuls of rock and hillock.

            When we find my mother and sister again after several more hours of flight, crouching down again such that we can actually see their faces below the clouds, they’ve chosen to set up camp around what remains of Europe and Africa. Judging by the missing chunks of coastline, as well as the actual clumps of land and geology clenched in the hands of my family, I realize they’ve actually torn chunks of continents off with their bare hands, rather than just stamping them all into the ocean. They’ve grown high enough that the effort of tearing off a corner of a country as though it was a piece of crumbly cookie is possible now.

            Evidently, that comparison to baked goods isn’t too far off from the thoughts of my lovely mother and gorgeous sister, as they’ve taken to shoving into their mouths the handfuls of green and brown land mass full of entire cities consisting of millions of people. Their lips and teeth make a real mess of the topography and nations alike, as though they were messily eating juicy steak without a knife and fork, but simply ripping into it with their jowls. I watch an entire country disappear into my mother’s mouth, then hear it crunched loudly, even over the whipping of the wind outside; her clamping teeth and sigh of satisfaction at the flavor is loud enough to reach me.

            My sister, too, finds her own method of intaking the meal of entire countries. She scoops up thousands of inhabited islands in the water in her cupped palms, and draws them to her lips. And she drinks them, meaning the entire islands and thousands of citizens, with a single watery gulp down her throat. I can see her neck bulging as countries, cities, and villages alike all collide together in the tunnel of her gullet.

            As can be grimly predicted now, all of this feeding, especially in such concentrated amounts, brings the requisite growth spurt. My mother and sister, crouching before, might as well have been standing up at full height before the “snack” they made of Europe, but now, they’ve easily crossed the distance.

            I lack the mathematical prowess to even come into a ballpark of their height now. They fill up too much space to even conceive. We don’t possess the correct vocabulary to describe it. Five hundred miles? One thousand miles? Size practically has no meaning anymore, now that my mother and sister have redefined it by their existence and needs.

            There’s no time for philosophizing on scale, only answers, and fast. I’ve got something put together with the materials in my knapsack from the lab. It isn’t much, but it’s a chance. The plan now is to use the VTOL’s state-of-the-art dispersal field for the spreading of chemical agents across entire landscapes and countries; right now, it might just barely be enough to cover my mother and sister, if we don’t get swatted aside or accidentally inhaled into their nostrils on the way.

            Nicole and Brandy are making their way north now, somehow out of sight and past the clouds. The remains of Europe and Africa lie in flames and rocky disarray, half of it underwater or eaten. Seeing the wake of their cackling, feminine destruction reminds me of just how much land and water my parent and sister have ingested; their bodies must be filling up now. I just manage to get a signal on my phone thanks to the military receiver in the VTOL and find a guerilla tape recording from some other godforsaken nation who managed to send a military plane up high enough for footage.

            The video was obviously filmed on the opposite side of the continent, though despite this distance, my mother and sister appear at roughly the same size as they did to me, which is to say, so close up they might have been in the same room, except when I pinch myself again as a reminder that they’re actually hundreds of miles away from the VTOL.

            In the video, I can see my mother ripping out the highest peak of a European mountain range which she can fit into her hands, and then in her squeezed palms and slender fingers, the shape of the mountain is winnowed down into a cylindrical, smooth tube of rock. She’s so strong and capable at this point, she can transform a jagged, mountainous pyramid into a shape similar to a cucumber, at least that’s my first thought.

            When I see what she’s doing with it as she kneels down again by Brandy in the video, I realize the actual purpose of her new toy.