by Mark Tufo
“Here, I prepared a solution that will mask our scents sufficiently for us to gain entry into the compound,” Dee said, handing me an old glass cleaner bottle full of a liquid that suspiciously looked like piss. I unscrewed the cover to get a better whiff.
“I don’t think that would be wise,” Dee said, looking at my trepidation. “It smells much worse than it looks.”
“Are you sure, because it looks like piss,” I told him.
“If you are referring to the waste elimination fluid then you are correct.”
“What?” I thrust the bottle back at him. “Is this your pee?” I asked alarmed.
“It is my waste water. If that is what you are asking.”
“Dee, I am not spraying myself with your waste water.”
“It has been treated to mask our scents.”
“I don’t care if it’s been treated to smell like fine cologne, it’s still piss.”
“It’s a little waste water or these,” he said pointing to his teeth.
“That’s a powerful motivator, my friend.” I reluctantly took the bottle back. “Where do I need to spray it?”
“Mostly on your head, neck and reproductive region.”
I looked at him hard for any signs of humor. I could not detect any.
“Are you sure? Because this is really grossing me out,” I told him.
He nodded.
“I’m not gonna even go into how much this blows,” I told him as I sprayed the top of my head—lightly, very, very lightly.
“You are going to get us killed!” Dee shouted, grabbing the bottle from my hands. Stand still, Michael,” he said as he liberally sprayed me with his concoction.
I would have yelled in anger if I didn’t think he’d get some in my mouth.
“I think that’s plenty!” I told him as the front of my pants looked like I had an accident. “If I’m going to die it’s going to be with some dignity!”
“I might have overdone it,” he said smelling the air.
“What about you?” I told him swiping the bottle back. I was about to unleash a torrent of the stinky solution on him.
“Already done.” He smiled.
“I think you’re full of shit, Dee. I think you just wanted to spray me with your piss.”
He snorted. “That would be funny, Michael, at another time, but this needed to be done.”
I still mostly doubted him and if we lived through the day I was going to pay him back somehow.
“Let’s go,” I said trying to breathe through my mouth, I did not want to smell the strong scent emanating from my body. “What the hell did you eat? Smells like broccoli.”
He snorted again. “It is working, you no longer smell like Michael Talbot to me.”
“How long does this last?”
“A few hours.”
“Let’s get moving then, because I am not getting doused again. I don’t know if I’ll able to take a hot enough shower to get this unclean feeling off me.”
“Urine is sterile prisoner Talbot. Let’s go,” he demanded.
I looked back—he was adopting his new role entirely too well.
Two hours of some hard hiking and minimal talking, we were at the doorstep of the Dedham landing zone. A hastily erected wall had been erected around the entire perimeter.
“Dee, if I wet myself will that undo your camouflaging elixir?” I asked him as I looked over the compound. Genogerians and some Progerians were busy scrambling around making sure their defenses were adequate for whatever the humans might have planned. I saw at least three dots up in the sky, they looked to be fighters circling they were trying to find any threat or lend assistance in an attack.
“I would not recommend that, hu-man,” Dee said pushing me in the back. “Move,” he growled.
“You keep this shit up and I’m not going to name my baby after you.”
Dee snorted again. “Move and do not make me laugh again. “We Genogerians are a very serious species.”
The weight of the Colt .45, strapped to my leg should have been comforting but its added weight seemed to be dragging me down. My legs were becoming wooden, and the kicker was that I had volunteered for this. Who volunteers for this kind of crap?
Some indistinct command rang out from atop a guard tower, I would imagine it was ‘halt’ or ‘Drababan, where are you going with Michael Talbot, the escaped prisoner?’ It was most likely ‘halt’ though because we weren’t shot on sight.
The guard motioned us forward with the wave of his rifle. Dee pushed me toward a rapidly opening gate.
“They travel a million light years in advanced spaceships and they can’t do any better than a chain link fence for a gate?” I asked Dee.
Dee pushed me in response. “Bigger and better fortifications will be up soon,” he whispered. “Stay quiet now.”
“I have a prisoner, I would like to put his filthy vile self into the stockade before he ruins any chance I have of eating a meal.”
“You should have just eaten him,” the guard said pointing toward a small building that had no windows. It looked to be a storage shed for a mechanics garage at one time before it became a prison.
“Move!” Dee shouted, pushing me in the back.
Another guard was outside the small structure, waiting to let me in. The guard sneered at me as Dee shoved me into the darkened building. His nose wrinkled as I passed him by, but he didn’t stop me to question further.
“You will need to report to the Camp Commandant,” the guard said, speaking to Dee in their native language. He would explain later the exchanges.
“Not that I care too much, but don’t eat that prisoner until he speaks with the Camp Commandant.”
“I’ve already eaten and if he tastes as bad as he smells, I don’t want any.”
Dee snorted a little then spun on his heel and went to find the Commandant.
The room was dark but enough light was streaming in that I could tell there were others nearby.
“Sit your ass down before you step on someone,” I heard someone snarl to my right.
Always the diplomat, I told him to kiss my ass. He didn’t rise to the taunt. The gloom was making identification of the others impossible. Spindler had a slight build and I might be able to recognize him that way but most everyone here was on the floor wrapped up in whatever was available.
“Listen, buddy, I’m not going to tell you again, sit your ass down.” The man was now literally breathing down my neck.
He was a little bigger than me and was trying to use his size to intimidate me. Did he think this was prison and he had to convince everyone he was the head bull?
I turned to face him, a small penlight lit up my face, recognition dawned on his.
He began to stammer. “I’m… I’m sorry, I—um, do you want my blanket?”
“Where’s Spindler?”
“Who?”
“Go sit down.”
“Yes… yes, sir. And feel free to have my blanket.”
“Don’t intend on staying long enough to get cold. Give me your flashlight.”
The man almost dropped it in his haste to hand it over. “Spindler, I know you’re here, just show yourself,” I said as I started to check out every human pile. The one with the covers drawn over his face I figured to be him. I walked over, the covers literally began to quake.
“Who wants to know?” he finally said in defiance, pulling the covers back and shielding his eyes from the intense light.
“It’s Michael Talbot,” the man whose flashlight I had taken answered.
I could see the wheels spinning in Spindler’s head. “You destroyed my Cadillac.”
“It was an accident.”
“My insurance company wouldn’t pay me for it. They said I had done it myself and that it was fraud. Almost went to jail because of you.”
“It was a prank that got out of hand.”
“Why are you here now? Not to offer an apology, I would imagine.”
“What have you told the Proge
rians?” I asked him flatly.
Spindler might be a sniveling little shit but he was a smart sniveling little shit. “I’ve told them nothing. What could I tell them?” he asked trying to redirect the conversation.
“You grew up in Walpole, you sat on the board of trustees, I think you could tell them a lot. Especially to save your skin.”
“Have you seen what they do to their prisoners?”
“I’m well aware.”
“I guess you would be.”
“Spindler, what have you told them?” I asked again with a little more force.
“It’s true then, isn’t it? I’d heard rumors I figured it was pretty far-fetched but now here you are.”
“Spindler, you’ve got two options. Either you escape with me or I will kill you.”
Spindler scrambled back at the words, but he didn’t quite cower as I had expected. “There’s a third option,” he said smiling.
Why the fuck I hadn’t just put a bullet in him at that point I’ll never know.
“Guard!” he screamed. Before I could react, he yelled again. “Michael Talbot is in here and he is trying to kill me!”
The light that flooded in from the door nearly blinded me as I dropped the small flashlight and pulled the hidden pistol from my hip holster. The guard hadn’t even decided to discriminate as he began to blow holes in everything that moved. I dove to the side as blue bolts whizzed by. I brought my pistol up and placed a hasty shot in the Geno’s knee, the .45 round shattering his knee cap. The next round caught him in his chest plate, I could hear the air rush from his lungs from the impact but the body armor had stopped the round. The third caught him in his open mouth, the blue bolts stopped.
I could hear more heavy footfalls running for the hut. I had to get the guard’s gun. The man who had initially threatened me was closest and ran over to grab it. “They’ll kill us all,” he said turning to level the gun on my chest. “Spindler, you’re an asshole,” the man said turning to point the gun back outside.
A shock of adrenaline coursed through my body, giving me the pins and needles sensations through my arms and hands. Dodged another one, I thanked a silent God.
Alien rounds peppered the building. If I was going to die, I had to make sure I had at the very least accomplished what I had set out to do. I turned to face Spindler, he had pulled up some supplies and was attempting to barricade himself against the oncoming onslaught.
“I don’t think that’ll stop them,” I told him. “Or me for that matter.”
“And what of it, Mr. Talbot? Will you just gun me down like a common cur? I did not realize that arsonists became murderers but I guess somehow it is a natural progression.”
I’d killed a lot of men, but this was different. I had gone on a mission, this was a planned assassination. And the taste of that was not sitting well in my stomach.
“You’re right, you were a royal pain in the ass when I was a kid and it doesn’t look like that has changed much. But it’s not enough to kill you.” He sank farther into his hastily built fort as I removed the chaff to get at him. “You’re coming with me,” I told him as I ripped him onto his feet.
“Where?” he sniveled.
“I think you know where.”
“The silo? I can’t go to the silo, they’ll kill us.”
“They’re going to kill us now. Would you rather have it happen now or we delay it for a little while?” I asked him.
“They’re coming and fast,” the man at the door yelled.
“What’s your name?” I asked the guy.
“Wamsley,” he shouted over his shoulder. “Brian.”
“Listen, Brian, I came in here with one of those Genos. If you see one that seems to be acting a little different, do not shoot him.”
“You came in here with one of them?” he asked, I could see his shudder from here. “How the hell am I going to tell?”
Our shed was being rocked from the assault the guards were placing on it, I was having my doubts about Dee being able to do anything to get us out of this mess. Well at least Spindler wouldn’t be able to betray the human race.
“They’re setting up a perimeter,” Brian shouted.
“Shut the door and get in here,” I told him.
He did as I asked.
“How much have you told them?” I turned asking Spindler.
“I had to—they would have killed me,” he whined.
“I’m going to ask again and I’d really like you to be more specific.”
Spindler was eyeing the door, and my gun. I knew he was weighing his options, but for him to run out that door was suicide by Genogerian gunfire.
“Why’d they stop shooting?” Brian asked peeking out the door.
“I’ve got a feeling they got orders from a higher authority,” I said never taking my eyes off my old principal.
“Your friend?” Brian asked.
“No, he’s too far down the chain of command. I think the Camp Commandant might have put a halt to this.”
“Why?” Brian asked.
“I think Spindler may have saved our lives,” I told him. “Inadvertently maybe, but he saved our lives. I think he promised them a lot of information and has yet to deliver. Am I close?” I asked Spindler.
“It’s too bad you never used that brain of yours when you were in school, Mr. Talbot,” Spindler replied condescendingly.
“How much do they know? I’m not going to ask again.”
Spindler licked his lips. “I’m not a complete idiot.”
“That’s debatable.”
He continued with a slight sneer. “As soon as I gave them what they were looking for, they would have killed me. I gave them the armory location in Norwood. They know there’s a base nearby. I don’t know how and it’s only a matter of time until someone tells them.”
“We’ll deal with that when the time comes but it most certainly won’t be you.” He tried to shrink back down. “I’m not going to kill you.” Spindler visibly relaxed. “Unless you give me reason to, but you are coming with us if we get out of here.”
“Puny hu-mans, you must come out at once!” a booming voice shouted.
“At least they’re polite,” I said.
“There’s that,” Brian said. “What now?”
“Hi, everyone,” I said to the group. “Besides Spindler who most definitely is coming with me if I get out of here, the rest of you are free to come along or go outside and into the waiting arms of our distinguished hosts.
An old woman and an even older man shuffled toward the door. “We’re too old to play resistance fighter,” the old man said as he passed me by.
A young couple with a baby also got up to go out. They never looked at me as they moved past Brian.
They had not traveled more than twenty feet from the shed when I heard the same booming authoritative voice. “None of them are him.” Blue streaks blazed past as the five people were quickly dispatched.
I turned away, my heart weighed heavily with the thought that had I not come here, they would still be alive.
Brian witnessed my reaction. “Not your fault, my man. We were all dead before you got here. They just hadn’t filled in the time yet.”
There were more than a few sobs from the remaining prisoners, but no one else was heading for the exit.
“I beg to differ,” Spindler chimed in. “Every single one of them would still be alive. That baby might have actually had a future, Mr. Talbot. The aliens promised us sanctuary before you killed one of their own.”
“As slaves, you idiot,” Brian yelled at him.
“I for one would rather be a live slave than a dead martyr,” Spindler said holding his chin high, like he was high and mighty.
“Well, I guess that’s the difference between us then, isn’t it?” I said coldly to him. "and what makes you think you're held in high enough regard to become a martyr?"
“Puny hu-mans, send out more of you!” The voice said.
“He can’t be serious, is he?” Bri
an asked.
“Oh, I’m sure he is. They don’t have much in the way of a sense of humor.”
Spindler kept eyeing the door like it led to salvation and a cheeseburger.
“Go,” I told him.
He was looking at me to determine if this was a trick of some sort and then actually took a step.
“But remember—” His steps faltered. “They said ‘none of them are him’.” They want one of us alive. Are you willing to bet your life on fifty-fifty odds? You know what happens when you assume, don’t you?” Spindler did not answer.
“You get shot with blue shit!” Brian said.
“Fifty-fifty odds. You can either walk out that door and hope they don’t fry your innards or you can throw your lot in with the human race.”
I didn’t think Spindler liked either option much, but there really wasn’t a third one coming down the pipeline.
“I’m coming with you,” Spindler said, resignedly, his head dropping down.
“I had a feeling you’d see it my way.”
“Not sure how long our little stand-off is going to hold,” Brian said, “they look to be getting very impatient.”
“At college, I once protested the use of animal hide for jackets, purses, and shoes. I mean mostly it was to get into this chick’s pants, but I did it all the same. I really did feel kind of bad that crocodiles were being used for boots, belts, and luggage—now I wish I had a pair of those damn boots. Two maybe,” I said, thinking back longingly.
“Did it work?” Brian asked.
“Huh?” I asked “Oh, shit yeah, they kept making shoes but I got in her pants. Sure did.” I laughed.
“Well, that’s all that really mattered back then. What about now?” Brian asked.
“That’s rather juvenile, Mr. Talbot,” Spindler said.
“Wait until you really get to know me, it doesn’t get much better. And stop looking at the door, you already made your choice. Brian, we’re going to have to hope my friend thinks of something that gets us out of here. We hadn’t really planned for this contingency. I was going to kill Spindler and then sneak out tonight.”
Spindler took in a sharp breath of air.
I walked over to Brian to get a better idea of what we were dealing with. “Shit,” I said, pulling my eye away from the crack. “No real chance of blasting our way through there.”
