by Alan James
“Where is the gun?” Kelly asked.
“I don’t know,” Perkins replied, still whispering, “Will had it, I don’t know where it is now. Please, can’t we be more quiet?”
Kelly grabbed Perkins chin from underneath and pulled up slightly. There on his left temple was a small gash, no longer bleeding because it was packed with dirt. “How’d you get this?” he asked.
“Will.”
“What, you mean … Will hit you?”
“Yes,” he paused, “Will hit me with the gun.”
‘Well,’ Kelly thought to himself, ‘it had finally happened. Will had finally cracked. Whatever was going on between him and that little piece of disc skin had finally pushed him over the edge.’
“Look Perkins, we gotta get you back inside. C’mon,” he said, sliding a hand under Perkins elbow.
“No, No … the others,” he cried, again in a whisper, pulling his arm from Kelly’s grasp.
Kelly thought that he knew now, what was going on. “Look,” he said, putting his face closer to Perkins. “Look at me,” he almost snarled, “Will was the only person out here beside yourself. He’s been talking to himself. I heard him myself when we went to the shed for the chutes. Now come on, let’s get you inside.”
He grabbed Perkins again, this time giving him no choice, or time, to refuse. Perkins was wobbly on his feet, so the two walked slowly back to the trailer. Kelly supported him first by the arm, then by grabbing him around his waist. He was taking every opportunity to frisk Perkins for the gun. As they walked to a point where the light from the floods was harsh against them, Kelly frisked him with his eyes. Perkins was not carrying the pistol. Kelly turned one last time to look down the dark path behind them. ‘Where in hell is it?’ he thought.
***
As Matson and Dr. Forest helped Perkins to sit on the closed toilet seat, Kelly offered to the doctor, “I’ll start getting him cleaned up. Why don’t you two go out and check on Cory? I had a look around on the way in, and I don’t think there’s anyone else out there.”
Matson started to speak, but Kelly grabbed him by the arm. Perkins had his head in his hands and didn’t see Kelly put a hushing finger to his lips. Kelly motioned the other two out of the bathroom. As they reached the door to the porch, Matson asked in a whisper, “If there’s nobody else out there, then who shot Will?”
“I don’t know for sure,” Kelly said, looking Matson in the eye, “but, I’m workin’ on it.” He closed the door behind them.
Kelly checked the drawer under the bathroom sink for a wash cloth or towel. He found nothing but a roll-towel dispenser hanging on the wall. He grabbed the bottom of the case and pulled it up and open. He used his pocket knife to cut a length of cloth from the roll, wet it, and started cleaning Perkins face and wound.
“So, Ben,” he used the familiar, “tell me exactly what happened out there?”
Perkins pushed the towel away, laid his head back down in his hands, and very matter-of-factly said, “I don’t know, it all happened so fast.”
Kelly tried to resume cleaning his wound but Perkins pushed him away again. “Look, just leave me alone. I don’t owe you any explanations.”
Kelly stepped back from him. He stared, thinking how quickly Perkins demeanor had changed. Then he thought of the piece of disc skin and how it had affected Will. ‘Could Perkins have it on him?’ he wondered. ‘Did he shoot Will and then take it from him?’
Kelly heard movement on the porch. Matson and Forest were helping a groggy Cory back inside. He pulled a chair up to the end of the hall, “Here, set him here,” he offered.
As the doctor tended Cory and then Perkins, Kelly grabbed Matson by the arm and led him to the back of the trailer. Will’s screen was still on, but the little three-view no longer showed red at the gun ports. “Look, it’s showing safe again. Do you remember, just before the shooting started, it flashed red?”
“Yeah, I remember,” Matson replied. “So, why did it arm itself?”
Kelly paused like always, when he wasn’t sure of the implications, “I think it must have felt threatened.”
Matson looked out the window. From where they were standing at the back of the trailer, he could just make out part of the nose and some of the left wing. Then, turning back to Kelly, “OK, assuming you’re right in giving this,” he could no longer force himself to call the plane her, “this thing credit for some sort of intelligence, then tell me, who was threatening it.”
“Look, remember how we were talkin’ earlier about the Air Force and secrets, and compartmentalizing? Well,” Matson tried to interject, “no, let me finish,” Kelly continued, “you probably think I’m half crazy already, but the way I got it figured is: this plane and all of its pieces, hell, maybe even the stuff in Nevada, it’s all from the same compartment. It’s all part of a greater whole.”
Matson was taking too long to get his interjection out, so Kelly continued, “When Will disappeared outside and Perkins went looking for him,” he lowered his voice further, “I think Perkins had the gun, not Will. And when he pulled it, Will was holding the piece of disc skin in his pocket. Will felt threatened, so, the plane felt threatened.” He paused, looking toward the bathroom. “If Perkins has that little piece now, and he knows where the gun is, we could all be in real trouble.”
“I’ll talk to him. I’ll find out what’s going on,” he paused in worried thought. “Christ! Kelly, first you tell me Will’s gone crazy on us, and now you say it’s Perkins. There’s got to be an explanation for this.”
As Matson turned to move toward Perkins, Kelly grabbed his arm, “Listen, be careful what you say to him. I don’t care how long you’ve known him, we’ve got one man dead outside, and Perkins was the only other man out there with him.”
BROTHER
Kelly left Matson inside with the others. He wanted to have a look at Will’s body. More precisely, he wanted to check Will’s pockets. He had to know for sure if Perkins was in possession of the piece of disc skin.
The body was still in the same position under the lean-to. Kelly slowly made his way through, and over, all of the junk that was scattered about. He knelt beside the corpse and checked the coat, then the shirt pockets; there was nothing there. He tried the pants; the right front pocket contained some change and two, thirty-two caliber bullets. That was the same caliber as the pistol Cory had held on him. The disc skin was nowhere to be found. ‘If Will had been holding it,’ Kelly thought, ‘perhaps he dropped it when he was shot.’ He went to his hands and knees and began patting the ground around the body, and as he shifted position away from Will’s legs, he caught the palm of his right hand on something sharp. The object was so sharp that he didn’t feel the pain until it had cut a half inch slice into the heel of his thumb. He had time enough for half an exclamation of pain, and then, his mind went elsewhere.
***
A pale, rose colored sky, filled side to side with two huge, but weak, red suns held his attention, but for only a moment. He turned to his left to see a canyon. A canyon that seemed to go on forever, disappearing over the horizon. Looking down he could tell, or feel, that he was not grounded. He could not tell how high above the surface he was, but, as unlikely as it seemed, he felt at ease there. Behind him, out on a wide, expansive plain, sprang what looked like a large city, its tall spires reaching for heights he wouldn’t have thought possible.
His mood suddenly changed as his vision caught movement. A man stood before him; a seemingly familiar man. He was sure it was his brother. ‘My God,’ he thought, ‘what is he doing here?’ He wanted to reach out and touch him. He wanted to take him in his arms and hold him. Oh, how he missed his brother. The man started moving slowly away from him, then faster and faster; receding quickly into the distance. Kelly’s heart was suddenly filled with an aching he had never experienced before. “Brother,” he cried, “Brother.” He could no longer contain his sorrow. Tears fell from his
eyes and rolled over his lips; he could taste the salt. He cried, uncontrollably, “My Brother, where have you gone?” He yelled, dropping to his knees, still sobbing, “I will find you. I promise, I will find you.”
***
As Kelly’s body slumped forward under the lean-to, the disc skin pulled free from the cut in his hand. He laid there for a moment, still on his knees, supporting the front of his body with the side of his face. He groaned. Pulling his hands forward, he slowly pushed himself to a position on all fours. He wiped his face with his bloody hand, not remembering that he had been cut. The taste of his blood now replaced the salt of his tears. Standing quickly, unsteady on his feet, he braced himself against the back of the trailer.
He stood there silently, trying to piece together his vision. ‘Brother?’ he thought, ‘I don’t have a brother.’
“Kelly,” he heard a voice in the distance. “Kelly,” it called again.
It was Matson calling him from inside. He gathered himself as best he could, and after a step, he looked beneath him. There at his feet was the little piece of chrome. He had not seen it, he had felt it. He bent to pick it up, his blood still fresh on one of its corners. Suddenly knowing, he carefully slid it into his left front breast pocket, over his heart.
THREE MORE BOGEYS
As Kelly entered the trailer he could see Matson and Perkins sitting at their stations. Cory was on the floor, lying on one of the wool blankets from the storeroom. Dr. Forest was leaning over him, dressing his head wound. Cory was still too dizzy to stand or sit. Kelly stooped and quietly asked, “How’s he doing.”
“Oh! … Kelly,” Matson said quickly turning, “take a look at the radar scope. It looks like we may have a problem.”
As he stood, Kelly made eye contact with the doctor. He mouthed a short smile, “He’ll be OK?”
The doctor nodded.
The scope was filling the corner with its eerie yellow/green glow as Kelly took Will’s chair.
“In the upper left corner,” Matson yelled to him, not taking his gaze from his own screen.
There, just beyond the spot where he had first noticed the echo of the plane now parked outside, he watched the sweep as it painted three small returns, two slightly larger than the third. “I’ve got ‘em,” he yelled back at Matson.
“So what do you think?” Ken asked.
“Hell, I’m not the one to be askin’ that. Will should be …” he stopped mid sentence, remembering. “I don’t know,” he continued, “they’re traveling very slowly.”
“You think it could be three more of what we got parked outside? It looks like their coming from the right direction.”
Kelly thought for a moment, “My best guess is no. These things wouldn’t be showin’ up on primary if they were discs. Ours didn’t.”
Kelly turned to look at Matson, who was already staring in his direction. “Military?” Ken asked.
“Helicopters are my best guess. And they gotta be military. I don’t know any civilian outfits that fly choppers in formation.”
“It’s Nevada,” said Cory, lifting himself up on an elbow, “how in the hell did they find us?”
“Take it easy Cory,” said Matson, standing and walking back toward Kelly, “we don’t know who it is, and there’s no reason to think it’s anybody from Nevada. We’ve given them no opportunity to see us in any way, in the air, or on the ground.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure, Ken, they’re headed straight this way,” Kelly pointed to the scope, “and they’re only about thirty, maybe forty minutes out.”
“Then we’ve got to get it covered.”
“We won’t have time. And besides, if they are looking for her, she’ll stick out like a sore thumb with those chutes draped over her.”
“Then,” Matson paused, “we’ve got to move the thing.”
“And how do you plan on doing that?” He stared at Matson’s questioning face. “You had a look inside her earlier; did you recognize anything in the cockpit that looked familiar to you? I’ve been in quite a few eighty-sixes, and nothin’ I saw looked familiar. I wouldn’t even know how to close the cockpit, let alone get her started.”
“We’ve got to try,” said Cory from his position on the floor. “If we can get her started, then, maybe we can use the guns.”
Suddenly, from an unexpected voice, and with a harsh sound of authority, “Nobody’s starting anything, and nobody’s using any guns, but me.”
Perkins stood with the thirty-two pointed from his waist in their direction.
“Ben,” Matson gasped, “what’s going on? What are you doing?”
“Get down on the floor, both of you. Doctor, you and Cory stay right where you are, and don’t anybody move.”
“Ben, what …?” Matson couldn’t get the words out.
“Get on the floor now,” Perkins screamed, pushing the barrel of the gun in Matson’s direction. It was clear that he was not one who had found himself in this type of position many, if any, times before in his life.
Kelly was growing nervous at Matson’s refusal to take a seat on the floor; afraid Perkins might start shooting at any moment. As he kneeled to the floor he reached for Matson’s coat and gave it a tug, “Get down, now,” he ordered quietly.
Matson swallowed hard, then spoke again, “Why Ben? Why are you doing this?”
“I’m doing my job Ken” he paused, “no, I’m doing my duty, the same way you should.” He waved the gun at the window, “This plane, this disc … this thing, it doesn’t belong to you. It doesn’t belong to any of us. I’m not risking my life, or my future, helping you keep this thing a secret any longer. Now that it’s on the ground, it’s going back to the Air Force.”
“But, how did they find out?” Matson asked sideways to Kelly. “There’s no way they could’ve found out?”
“He called them,” Kelly said from behind Matson. “He called them on the short-wave when we left him inside to monitor the screens.”
“You killed Will,” Matson’s lower lip trembled.
“I didn’t want to hurt anybody Ken … you’ve got to believe that. But, somehow, Will knew what I was up to. When I went out to look for him, he stopped me at the lean-to. He said he wouldn’t let me hurt them. His eyes were all glassed over and he had his hands on that little piece of skin … rubbin’ it. He was talkin’ crazy. ‘I won’t let you hurt them, you mustn’t hurt them,’ over and over, that’s all he was sayin’, and, then … then he came at me. Don’t you see Ken? I had to shoot him, I had to.”
At this point Perkins was shaking as badly has Matson. Kelly was becoming more and more apprehensive, especially as Perkins’ wavering arm brought the gun to bear on him. Out of the corner of his eye he could just see Will’s screen and the little three-view. The nose was now glowing with six little red circles. Almost without thinking, he looked at Dr. Forest. He gave him a palm down signal with his right hand. Forest must have thought Kelly was about to try something, because he immediately fell on top of Cory, covering him. At the same instant Kelly reached for Matson’s coat again and pulled him down. As they hit the floor, their whole world erupted in a thunder clap. Glass and wood splinters began exploding all around them. Perkins had taken three steps toward Matson and Kelly. He had left his position where he was in alignment with the port side guns, stepped behind Matson’s chair, and stopped at Forest’s station, not realizing he was now in line with the starboard fifties.
When the six rounds came through the glass and thin fiberboard, the port side rounds, although doing great damage to the trailer, passed through and embedded themselves in an old seven-oh-seven a couple hundred yards beyond the chain link fence. The starboard rounds struck Perkins, one in the medulla oblongata, effectively releasing tension on all of his muscles. His trigger finger relaxed as his head left his body. The other two rounds separated his spine mid-back and at waist level, spewing internal organs and bowel against the hall wall.
Th
e men lay there quietly until Kelly raised himself enough to turn his head, once again, toward Will’s screen. The red warning was gone. “It’s OK guys,” he said, patting Matson on the back, “we can get up now.”
“Are you sure Kelly?”
“Yeah, see for yourself,” he turned Matson to see the three-view, “she’s disarmed herself again.”
Forest, rather nonchalantly, wiped small pieces of Perkins from the side of his face. Being a doctor must have made the carnage a little easier to take. Cory, however, was a different story. It took awhile to coax him into the storeroom in the back. They laid him on the blanket again. Now, after three bodies in one night, he was a basket case.
***
The south end of the trailer was a complete mess. The entire length of window had been shattered and was lying in broken shards about the floor. It crunched under their feet as they took turns using an old push broom to try and shove as much of Perkins as they could, into an isolated corner where the hall and south wall met. The lower portion of his body was then moved by grabbing both legs and heaving it onto the gory pile of his remains.
Perkins screen had taken a direct hit from one of the port side fifties. The upper backrest of his chair had faired no better. Matson and Kelly decided the best thing to do was abandon that end of the trailer for now. They moved what they needed, nothing more than a couple of chairs and the short wave, to Will’s station.
“One of us, and I think it needs to be me,” said Kelly, “needs to go out to the plane and see if we can make heads or tails of its layout. I think Cory was right, we might be able to use the fifties, if we … if I, can figure out how to make ‘em work.”
Matson took a seat at the radar scope and Forest sat next to him, each watching Will’s screen and the little three-view. Kelly grabbed a walkie-talkie and headed for the door. “Give me a call if the nose goes red again, or if the choppers change course.”
