A New Beginning

by Kevin Ryan

  "Working late?" he asked, his voice rough. Surprisingly,

  he found that he was nervous.

  She shook her head. "Dan's Web site. You're going to

  have to help me with that," she said.

  "Maybe tomorrow . . . or—," Kyle began.

  "I didn't mean tonight," she said. "I'm sure we can come

  up with something better to do tonight."

  Kyle's throat went dry. She watched him with a look of

  mild amusement on her face.

  "What do you think, Kyle?" she said.

  As it turned out, Kyle found that his mind was com-

  pletely blank. Then all he could think of was how good

  she smelled. What was that perfume? he thought.

  And then she was moving. She leaned into him and put

  one hand around the back of his neck. As she pulled his

  * * *

  head down, she extended her own neck.

  Then she was kissing him. Soft and then open. For a

  moment, Kyle felt it. Sweet relief. This was exactly what he

  had wanted from the first second he had seen her sitting at

  her desk. There were no aliens, no Special Unit, no bullets

  slamming into his chest, no secrets . . . only her. And she

  was sweet.

  For what seemed like a long time, Kyle lost himself in

  her. He kissed her firmly, and she answered back even

  more forcefully. This was what he needed. He wasn't a

  monk. And Buddha's Middle Way did not ask him to be.

  Dawn was what he needed ... but what he wanted was ...

  Isabel.

  Not Dawn.

  When the realization hit him, it did so with a sudden

  force that he felt in his stomach. He pulled his mouth

  away from hers. For a moment, she pulled him back with

  her tight grip. Then he was free again, pushing himself

  away gently but firmly.

  "What is it, Kyle?" she asked, a light still on in her eyes.

  "Ah ... I can't, Dawn," he said weakly.

  She glanced down and smiled at him again. "I know for

  a fact that isn't true," she said. She was still smiling, but

  the smile was getting tighter by the second.

  "I like you. I really like you, but I won't be staying in

  Stonewall," he said, gaining more confidence in his own

  voice. The light in her eyes was almost completely out

  now. The look on her face hardened.

  "I didn't ask you to, did I?" Dawn reminded him.

  "And the van's full. I can't take anyone with me," he said.

  Her eyes cold, she said, "I didn't ask you to do that, either."

  * * *

  "I'm sorry, I—," he began.

  "I know, you can't," she said sharply.

  "Please understand," he said.

  "Understand what?" she asked.

  "I mean, I do like you," he said.

  Her cold stare told him that she was expecting some-

  thing more. From him. But how to explain? How could he

  explain that it meant more to him to sit next to Isabel than

  it did to kiss her? How could he explain that he would

  rather talk to Isabel than . . . anything with her. Isabel was

  an impossible situation. She was still married, and up

  until days ago had been living happily with her husband.

  She wouldn't care what Kyle did with this girl.

  But he would care. It would matter to him.

  He couldn't make Dawn understand all that that. And

  she probably didn't really want him to try.

  "I'm sorry, I really am. But there is someone else in my

  life," he said.

  He saw a brief flash before the side of his face exploded

  into red.

  Smack!

  His hand was touching his cheek before what had hap-

  pened registered on him. As he rubbed the place where

  she'd slapped him, she began shouting.

  "Then why have you been playing with me, Kyle?" she

  said, drawing his name out like it was a curse. He thought

  she was overreacting. He felt compelled to try to calm her

  down.

  "I—," was all he could say.

  "This whole time, this whole game!" she said, her voice

  getting louder still.

  * * *

  Kyle kept silent. He had nothing to say. At least, there

  was nothing he could say that wouldn't make things worse.

  "You've just been playing with me. Having a good joke

  at the local girl's expense!" she railed.

  It had been a long time since he had seen a girl truly

  angry. And even longer still since he had been on the

  receiving end of that rage. It was unsettling. "I'm sorry," he

  said again. He knew it was lame.

  Apparently she did, too. She was still angry, but some-

  thing was changing. Her eyes were beginning to get red.

  Uh-oh, he thought. Angry was better.

  As she started to sob, she turned and stormed away.

  Kyle let out a long sigh, glad it was finally over.

  But before he had taken another breath, Kyle heard

  Gomer's voice.

  "Dawn," he called out. Kyle could hear concern in his

  voice.

  Gomer stepped into the garage. He didn't even glance

  Kyle's way and said, "Your dad said that you told him not to

  pick you up. I just wanted to make sure you got home okay."

  Yeah, and make sure she didn't work too late with me here,

  Kyle thought.

  Dawn didn't respond, she just kept walking across the

  shop floor toward him. When she was just a few steps

  away, Kyle could see that Gomer had finally seen her face.

  "What's going on here?" he asked, looking first to

  Dawn, then to Kyle.

  "We were just talking," Kyle said.

  Then he saw Dawn's shoulders shake and heard her

  first sob. Gomer looked both surprised and confused.

  Great, Kyle thought.

  * * *

  When Gomer looked at Kyle again, Kyle saw that some-

  thing else was brewing there.

  "You," Gomer said, glaring at Kyle. Kyle saw that the

  only thing that kept Gomer from coming after him was

  Dawn falling into Gomer's arms. Whatever control she had

  fell away, and she sobbed openly into his chest.

  "What did he do to you?" Gomer asked.

  Kyle had thought Gomer sounded dangerous before,

  when he had trapped Kyle under the car. But now Kyle

  knew that Gomer had just been playing then, because now

  he was hearing what Gomer sounded like when he was

  really dangerous.

  Well, Kyle had faced bigger and tougher guys on the

  football field. He could be pretty dangerous himself.

  And he wasn't stuck under a three-ton car now. Kyle

  felt a shot of adrenaline race through his system.

  Gomer was holding Dawn, but looking up at Kyle with

  murder in his eyes. Buddha only knew what he was thinking.

  When Dawn's sobs began to subside, Gomer pulled

  back a little and said to her, "What happened here?"

  "Nothing," she squeaked. "I just want to go home."

  "Sure, in a minute," Gomer said, completely disentan-

  gling himself from Dawn. He immediately headed for Kyle.

  Kyle squeezed the fist on his right hand into a ball,

  ready. He was tired of running, and decided that he was

  going to give Gomer a surprise. It was almost too bad that

  he and Gomer would be getting into it ov
er Dawn.

  Though Kyle knew that he had done nothing to her,

  Gomer didn't.

  Kyle was tired of being a victim. Nevertheless, if Gomer

  kept his head, Kyle wouldn't make a move against him.

  * * *

  But it looked like Gomer was going to make the first

  move. Without stopping, he reached out with both hands

  and shoved Kyle hard.

  Expecting it, Kyle didn't hesitate. He stood his ground

  and shoved back even harder. That surprised Gomer. The

  fury in his eyes dulled a bit, and uncertainty began to

  dawn there.

  "What did you do?" Gomer said.

  "Nothing," Kyle said. "At least nothing to Dawn. Touch

  me again and I will take you apart, though." Kyle saw that

  Gomer was buying his bravado. The uncertainty in the

  bigger man's eyes was growing.

  "Dawn, did he hurt you?" Gomer asked, not taking his

  eyes off Kyle.

  There was a long pause, and then Dawn said, "No, he's

  just a jerk. Take me home, Gomer."

  Gomer studied Kyle for a few seconds, and then began

  to back away.

  "You're lucky," Gomer said to Kyle, trying to sound

  tough.

  Kyle felt a rush of satisfaction. He had won this show-

  down, and had done it without striking a blow. Maybe

  Gomer wasn't much of an opponent, and this hadn't been

  much of a contest, but it still felt good to win one—to win

  something. As Kyle watched Gomer help Dawn into his

  pickup, he felt his body relaxing slowly. Rather than wait-

  ing around, he decided to lock up and go see the others.

  He would have plenty of time tomorrow night to work on

  the van. He pulled the large shop area doors shut. They

  were the old-fashioned kind that opened from the sides

  instead of the newer ones that opened up and down.

  * * *

  The doors were heavy and squeaked on their wheels as he

  pulled them together. Then Kyle locked the two doors together

  with the padlock and looked up in time to see Gomer's pickup

  heading down the road into the rapidly darkening sky

  As soon as he turned away, he felt an odd vibration in

  the ground.

  Earthquake? he wondered.

  Inside their room, Max felt the ground shake underneath

  him. He was immediately on guard. Instinctively, he

  turned to the others to make sure they were okay. His best

  friend was wearing the same hyper-alert expression than

  Max was sure was on his own face.

  "What was that?" Liz asked.

  "I don't know," Max replied, a chill running up and

  down his spine. He had a very bad feeling about whatever

  was going on. By the look on his best friend's face, he was

  not the only one.

  "Let's check it out, Maxwell," Michael said, getting up.

  Max was on his feet in a second.

  "Wait here," Michael said to Maria.

  "We'll be right back," Max said to Liz.

  "You'll be right back? You're going to leave us here while

  you check out whatever is out there?" Maria said.

  As Maria spoke, the shaking of the ground turned into

  a deep rumbling that was getting stronger.

  "She's right," Max said. "Everybody stay together. We'll

  find Kyle and go from there."

  Kyle ran toward the road and followed the lights of the

  pickup as it drove away from the garage and the center of

  * * *

  town. As the ground started to shake even more around

  him, Kyle saw the pickup begin to weave on the street.

  Then he heard a loud crash and saw it come to a sudden

  stop, as if it were slamming into a wall that he couldn't see.

  The rear of the pickup seemed to lift into the air and hang

  there for an instant.

  Then the lights in the pickup went out. Kyle could still

  see the outline of the vehicle, but it began to dim in front

  of him. No, that wasn't it. The truck wasn't dimming. It

  was just getting darker, much darker. Looking up, Kyle

  could still see the night sky and stars clearly above him,

  but the road around the pickup was nearly pitch dark.

  Looking into the darkness made Kyle queasy. Then he

  was not just queasy, he was nauseated. Something about

  the darkness made him want to ...

  The world seemed to be moving in slow motion, and

  then Kyle heard someone call his name. Max. It was Max.

  With effort, he turned away from the sight in front of him

  and saw Max and the others approaching him at a run.

  They were looking at him and past him toward the

  pickup.

  Kyle wanted to tell them not to look, but then the dark-

  ness was gone, and he saw a bright light shining on his

  friends.

  The ground continued to shake, harder. Kyle turned

  quickly to see a large, brightly lit ... something hovering

  over the ground.

  The ship, if that's what it was, was big. Almost as big as

  Johnny's garage. It also seemed like a perfect cylinder—

  almost like a giant, solid pipe. It was covered with maybe

  half a dozen small white lights and another half a dozen

  * * *

  large searchlights that moved and crisscrossed over the

  road and surrounding area.

  For a terrible moment, Kyle saw one of the searchlights

  point directly at him as his ears told him that his friends

  were right behind him. The light was blinding, and Kyle

  had to close his eyes and then turn around. Finally, he

  could see the searchlight's circle track away from him. He

  tried to focus on his friends, but a bright afterimage

  obscured his vision.

  When his eyes began to refocus, he turned around to

  see the cylinder continue to hover. Then the lights went

  out all at once, and Kyle heard a rush of air as the ship

  raced away.

  He tried to track it with his eyes, but he looked away

  when he saw the cloud of darkness again. When he looked

  back, the ship was nowhere to be seen.

  "Oh, my God," he heard Maria say from behind him.

  * * *

  18

  Uh, my God, Max, it was a ship!" Liz said from behind.

  Max nodded, still looking out into the sky. It was a ship,

  there was no question about that, Max thought. The only

  question was what they did now. His instinct was to pile

  himself and his friends into the van or whatever vehicle

  was handy and get as far away from Stonewall as they pos-

  sibly could. "Kyle, are you okay?" Max asked his friend.

  "Yeah, I got here a few seconds before you did," he said.

  Kyle didn't look hurt, but he was obviously shaken up.

  There was something else, too, something in his face.

  "Are you sure?" Max said.

  "I think so. I feel a little sick," Kyle said. He explained

  about the black cloud that had hidden the ship, or what-

  ever it was. "Looking into that darkness made me feel sick

  to my stomach, I can't explain it," Kyle said.

  "What kind of technology was that? What kind of ship?

  Max, who are they?" Liz asked.

  "That was nothing like the ship that brought us here. A

  Skin ship maybe?" Michael said.

&
nbsp; * * *

  "I don't think so," Isabel said in a very firm voice. "I

  think I know exactly who they are, or at least what they

  look like."

  "Who is it?" Max asked.

  "The monster from Jessica's dream. I think she was

  dreaming about the things that took her," she said.

  Then a sound disturbed the quiet around them. Until

  Max heard it, he hadn't realized how quiet it had been.

  Since they had arrived, there hadn't been any of the usual

  insect sounds, not even the endless chirping of crickets

  that usually went on all night.

  This sound was a growling. No, not a growling—it was

  someone moaning.

  "Help me," a weak voice said.

  "I'll go," Max said. Then he caught a glimpse of Liz's

  face and corrected himself: "We'll all go."

  The group approached the pickup. The truck was

  angled toward them, and Max could see that the front end

  was pretty well smashed.

  As they approached, someone pushed his way out of

  the pickup. Max recognized him immediately.

  "Gomer," Kyle said.

  The large man staggered away from them, to the side of

  the road.

  "Gomer," Kyle repeated as he rushed to the pickup to

  look inside.

  "Gomer!" Kyle shouted. Gomer finally turned around

  and looked at Kyle as if he didn't recognize him.

  Max saw that the tow truck driver had a bloody nose.

  Other than that, he looked okay.

  "Where is Dawn?" Kyle asked.

  * * *

  "They took her," Gomer said, his voice weak.

  Max knew that the next logical question was: Who took

  her? But Kyle didn't ask it. They all knew.

  "What happened?" Max asked.

  "I don't know," Gomer said. The man's head seemed to

  clear a small fraction, but he still looked like he was in a fog.

  Shock, Max thought.

  Kyle had produced a rag from somewhere and handed

  it to Gomer. "Put this on your nose," Kyle said.

  Liz put a hand on Gomer's shoulder and said, "Gomer.

  Do you remember anything?"

  That seemed to bring him out of his haze a little more.

  "We were driving . . . then it got dark all of a sudden,"

  Gomer said. He was struggling to remember details.

  "Then we crashed into . . . something," he said, shaking