by Rick Kueber
“She’s right.” Jenny agreed. “I’ve noticed how tired you look every day when I get home. I go to work all day, and you look more tired than I feel.”
“Yeah, well ...about that.” Elle fumbled over her words. “I haven’t gone in a few days.”
“You should’ve said somethin’. I’d have found somebody to take your place, maybe.” Bailey’s southern slang and contracted contractions made Elle beg for an ice-pick to cram in her ears. Jenny just looked at Elle with an over-exaggerated frowny face.
“Lighten up, would ya?” Elle pulled herself up to a half sitting position. “I didn’t say it wasn’t finished. I’ve been done for two days... Well, three now.”
“I’ve gotta tell Bob,” Bailey said in a huff. “We gotta step up our efforts to get everybody on board, so Malcolm can start working things on his end.”
“We need to get those guns here quick and start matching up the ammo and getting them loaded and ready,” Jenny said in a more serious tone than Elle had ever heard her speak. “You mentioned something about an idea for an element of surprise?”
“It was just an idea, but you make some kind of food for the Takers, right?” Her words stopped Bailey in her tracks, just as she was about to rush out of the apartment.
“Yes. Most of what we make is for them.” The gears began to turn in Jenny’s head.
“I wonder what kind of poison we could slip them that would be quick and finite...” Elle felt horrible at the suggestion, but she knew that whether it was mass poisoning or a gunfight, the Takers, most of them would have to die in order for them to be successful.
“That’s brilliant,” Bailey admitted. “Poison the hell out of everything, and tell our people not to eat anything we make. Not even the stuff we make for us.”
“It’s gonna take a lot of whatever, to poison that much food.” Jenny was concerned. “We’ll need a truckload!”
“Where are we going to find that?” Elle felt her belief in the possibilities shrinking. “You know, if we can pull it off, that’s going to be a lot of poisoned buns in the oven.”
“Aspirin,” Bailey said calmly. “There is a pharmaceutical plant just north of here that makes aspirin. If we can get the nsaid ingredient, that will do it. They haven’t been operational since this all began and shouldn’t be a problem to find the stuff in bulk there. The problem is going to be getting it from there to the bakery.”
“We can figure that out. Just might take some time.” Elle always chuckled inside when they mentioned ‘the bakery,' like there was a big kitchen with half a dozen large women in aprons making cupcakes and donuts to display in a storefront window, when in reality, it was a factory much like any other with assembly lines and product packaging.
“Yep. We’ll figure it out.” Echoed Bailey as she reached for the door knob. “Now, I’ve got a lot to talk to Bob about. I gotta go.” And with that, she slipped out of the apartment and building to find Lieutenant Bob.
“Well, it’s just you and me now. What do you want for dinner?” Jenny said nonchalantly.
“Pancakes,” Elle answered without hesitation. “Or corn dogs... Both sound amazing. And I want to talk to Malcolm again. I have a question that I don’t think anyone else can answer.”
“We have both. You want both?” Jenny smiled. “I even have some syrup.”
“Hells yeah!” Elle perked up. “Corn-dogs dipped in syrup and pancakes! I’m in heaven!” Her appetite was unusual, but she blamed it on her pregnancy.
“What do you want with Malcolm?” Jenny was concerned, giving Elle a sideways glance. “You aren’t planning to start some crap, are you?”
“No. I have a legitimate question.” Her response was sincere.
“And you don’t think anyone else could answer it, huh?” Jenny wondered what kind of alien question she might have.
“No, I don’t.” Elle looked at the floor and then raised her eyes to Jenny. “Unless you have seen the marks on the temples of the Takers and know what they mean.”
“What marks?” Jenny asked as she pulled out the cast iron skillet from the cabinet.
“Exactly.” Elle made her point clearly.
She had seen distinct marks, almost like tattoos on the temples of the Takers from day one, but no one else had seemed to notice them, so she stopped mentioning them. They were all very similar, but many had slight differences. Like a single Egyptian hieroglyph, each one looked like an arrow and a stick figure combined, but some were black, and some were varying shades of gray, and once she had even noticed one that was almost green. She had no idea what they meant, but they marked the Takers differently, and she wondered what the purpose was and if she was the only human who could see them, could it be of some significance or maybe even useful.
In the week that followed, the apartment was always abuzz with familiar faces and new ones. Most were very friendly and inquisitive about Elle’s baby and the plan to revolt against the alien invaders, though there were those that were skeptical about the idea and some who were downright terrified of the thought of trying to fight such powerful beings. Everyone who had put up a struggle in the past had ended up dead or disappearing.
Elle patiently waited each day for Malcolm to show up so she could pose her curiosity to him and finally get an answer to her question, but it seemed he would never return. Nearly two weeks had passed and she, Jenny and Bailey had spoken to almost a third of the employees, three or four at a time, so as not to be an obvious group meeting or series of large meetings. Not that she liked her any better, but Elle was getting used to Bailey constantly being around. She was almost like a third roommate, and she did have as much passion for the revolution as Elle did.
Every night, when the power went dead, and the world became dark and silent, Elle would talk to her unborn child as she eased off to sleep. She talked about the way she remembered her childhood and how different things were now, and it broke her heart to think that Zoey would have to be raised in such a strange world. There would be no trips to the big all-in-one store where her bright-eyed baby girl would beg for the latest fashion doll or a new Easter dress... And what would Christmas be like for a post-apocalyptic generation? Mostly she talked about Zoey’s dad, Tanner, and what a beautiful soul he was, and how brave he had always been. She whispered to her belly, secrets of how she had fallen in love with him so quickly before she had even hinted that she liked him in the slightest. It made the love stream from her eyes and her heart ache more than any heart should have to. The late night moments were filled with memories and sorrow and hopefulness and hopelessness, but every night, Elle would eventually fall asleep and nearly every night, she would dream of an ordinary life with Tanner and Zoey ...a life with no aliens and no need to be a survivalist. Normalcy and routines had become the things dreams were made of.
Chapter 9
Alpha
It was a Thursday evening when Jenny came home from work with Bailey and two others. Okay, it was some evening that Elle pretended was Thursday. The people of Phoenix worked seven days a week, and no one really knew what day of the week it was. Everyone agreed on what month it was, but even that, they couldn’t be exactly sure of. The two others were Lieutenant, bus driver Bob and humalien Malcolm. They all gathered in the living room and shared a pot of vegetable soup that Elle had been slow cooking all day.
“It’s here.” Bob started the revolution conversation. “The box van, that is.”
“Cool.” Elle seemed less than enthusiastic. “I guess now I have to start packing the stuff inside and loading the guns and stuff. I’m even less productive now than before.”
“I have ten of us, including Malcolm that are bringing them inside tonight and then we’ll move the box van back to where I found it.” Bob comforted Elle.
“That brings up another question.” Elle proceeded to play the devil’s advocate, “When we begin this revolution, what happens if we win? Does everyone plan on staying here, or what if we only half win? Are we planning on making a run for it? How t
he hell is that going to work?”
“Good point.” Jenny hadn’t thought that it might be an all or nothing battle. “How are we going to win over the alien beings? I mean, seriously, they’re just like energy. How do you kill that?”
“I think the plan if I understand correctly, is to take control of one of the Titans and leave the city,” Malcolm interjected. “It would be best to defeat all of those who oppose the human revolution before we leave this city to find others who will join us.”
“He’s right. We can all easily fit in one Titan, but if we don’t defeat the others, they will follow, and we’ll be terribly outnumbered. We won’t stand a chance.” Bob somberly commented.
“Then we have to figure out how to stop them.” Elle’s passion for the revolution was flaring up, and her face was growing flush. “We can’t go at this half-assed. It’s not a win or lose thing, it’s a win or die thing, and I, for one, am not ready to die.”
“There is only one way that I know of to destroy... us.” The humalien Ahsusha responded to Elle’s concern. “You would call it drowning, but really, I think you would understand it more as a short-circuit. After a short period of time underwater, their energy is dispersed and cannot regain its original form.”
“Well, that or cancer.” Elle reminded them. “Contact with someone with certain types of cancer will destroy them in seconds.” Elle had stated this before but still met with looks of disbelief. “I’ve seen it first-hand. I know what I’m talking about.”
“Even if that’s true, we don’t know of anyone living with or dying from cancer. Kind of makes it a moot point.” Bob remarked.
“That’s not entirely true.” Bailey’s words took everyone by surprise. “I’ve been fighting cancer since I was seventeen, but it’s been in remission for three years. I don’t know if that counts or not.”
“Honestly, I don’t either, but if so, it would sure be easier than coaxing the Commanders to the local swimming pool.” Jenny finally spoke up. “Mark, in packaging... He went through chemo last year. He might be cancer free, though.”
“I think it has more to do with the genetics of cancer than the actual cancer cells and tumors...maybe.” Elle guessed and hoped she was right. “What I’ve also seen is that, at least with Tanner, it wasn’t just a one-time thing. He was able to defeat more than one of the aliens.” She spoke the word awkwardly, being in the company of Malcolm.
“I guess I could try.” Bailey showed her true self, her love of humanity and her willingness for self-sacrifice in just five simple words. “Maybe as soon as everything is ready, you could take me to one of the Commanders and... see what happens.”
“We could, but we need to have a backup plan, in case that doesn’t work.” Lieutenant bus driver suggested that it might not work, and that could be devastating. His eyes met Elle’s, and the concern was only exceeded by the kindness and compassion he held for her.
“Okay...” Elle thought out loud. “What if we can poison the Takers and then you can take Bailey to the Commander as your ‘prisoner,' like she was behind the poisoning. We would have to be ready by then anyway, right.”
“Everything is going to have to happen quick, or it ain’t going to work.” Bailey was surprisingly calm, but that may have just been the military training keeping her emotionless in the face of her own potential death.
“I always thought you’d be gray.” Elle blurted out. “Sorry... Thinking out loud.”
“Huh?” Jenny responded with confusion.
“You know, everyone, even TV shows, and movies... They all said people were being abducted by ‘grays.' I guess I always thought if we ever had proof of alien visitations it would be the skinny little gray people.’ Elle explained, but she was shot odd looks from Bailey and surprisingly from Malcolm also.
“Yeah, me too,” Bailey said softly as if she had a secret she wanted to tell, but was hesitant to.
“The grays have been here?” Malcolm shocked everyone with his question.
“I don’t know. I guess I always thought they were, and that’s what the conspiracy theorists said that the government was covering up.” Elle rambled off the statement and then it hit her. “Are you saying the grays are real?”
“Yes, though we call them something else. I am certain we are speaking of the same beings.” The humalien Malcolm caused a flood of thoughts, memories, and fears to fill the minds of everyone in the room. “What about the ...what would you call them ...Shadows? The grays and the shadows both travel from a separate dimension. Sometimes they travel alone, appearing and disappearing quickly. Sometimes the grays travel across the dimensions in a craft, but the shadows do not. They have become above such simple things as material things ...crafts, saucers...”
“You mean all this time, the stories were true?” Lieutenant Bob rubbed his head briskly as if the idea of it all being factual hurt his brain. “I can hardly believe it, but how can I doubt it now? Imagine if Roswell was all true... Wouldn’t that be something?”
“”Yeah... Wouldn’t that be somethin’...” Bailey spoke, but her words sounded empty and as distant as the look in her eyes.
Suddenly the lights went out on the curious group of friends and strangers, and they realized their plotting and planning had gone on longer than they had realized.
“Malcolm, Bailey... Let’s go meet up with the others and start packing in the artillery.” The man who turned out to be more than just a bus driver hugged Elle and kissed her cheek. “You take it easy hon. Rest up and take care of that little one. We’ll be ready for this, I promise.”
The night passed as they all do, with thoughts and dreams of what might have been. The next few days passed mostly devoid of any notable events, but Elle was okay with that. Her life had become physically miserable. She knew the time was drawing near, and all she could think of was that she wished more than any other possible reality, that she and Tanner had been able to stay together at the cancer center or Barnhill. In either of those realities, she would have him by her side and would at least have people with some medical training to help deliver her child into this frightening new world. She often visited her memory of that night in the cabin so long ago when she made him promise he would never leave her. Though she was almost constantly in the company of others, she felt more alone than ever.
On an afternoon, much like any other, Elle had done a bit of picking up around the apartment before taking to the sofa for a much-needed rest. Little Zoey was kicking her ribs more than usual on this day and over the past few days, she had been experiencing more and more contractions; most likely Braxton-Hicks, or false labor.
Elle found it not only incredibly uncomfortable but also tiring. An hour or so before Jenny was expected to arrive home, there came a pounding on the door. Elle was so caught off guard that she jumped to her feet (as well as any woman in her ninth month of pregnancy could) and hurried to the door. Peering through the peephole, she spied bus-driver Bob pacing outside of the door, looking sweaty and pale. Having a soft spot for the man who felt like the ‘cool uncle’ everyone likes, and the man who had an obvious crush on a woman much younger than him, she flung the door open wide.
“Get in here!” She exclaimed. “What’s wrong.”
“Everything.” He forced out between his heavy and labored breaths. “We got the nsaid to the bakery three days ago and made the special goods. They were packed away and ready to be shipped when we were ready. They’re gone.”
“Somebody took them?” Elle’s mind raced. “Somebody knows? You think there’s a leak... Malcolm?”
“Bailey’s gone too.” Bob got out as he leaned heavy against the wall near the door. Elle could see the physical and mental distress that was getting the best of him and worried he might collapse.
“Bailey? I knew I didn’t like her from the beginning. I bet she is in cahoots with Malcolm, and they’ll be coming to get us all soon.” Elle’s heart raced, and her stomach cramped. “Come, sit.” She said in labored breaths.
The
two sat on the sofa clumsily, but Bob soon put his arm around the troubled girl and spoke.
“I’m supposed to be driving the workers here on the bus in about a half an hour. I’m afraid that’s when they’ll act... When we are all grouped together, or as soon as everyone is back here, but don’t get all worked up. We’ll figure something out.” His attempt to keep her calm was not only futile but unconvincing, even to himself.
“The guns, where are they?” Elle busted out excitedly.
“There’s an apartment on the first six floors, 101, 201, 301... You get the idea. The guns are split up between all of them.” Bob passed on the information without hesitation and then suddenly grabbed Elle by the arm and jerked her ruthlessly. “It was you! And now you know where our weapons are. I knew we couldn’t trust some pretty stranger who just ‘wandered’ into town and right up to me at the bakery!” He shouted at her furiously as his blood boiled.
Elle squirmed in his grasp and fought against his hold on her. “But I didn’t...” was all she could squeak out under her duress.
The lieutenant, bus-driver Bob, slumped back on the couch and his mouth hung open. Elle thought he must have realized that she was not to blame and that perhaps it was Bailey, as she had first suspected, but she was wrong, gravely wrong. Bob, who had become closer to her during her stay in Phoenix than even Jenny or Bailey, suddenly clenched his jaw shut, and his grip on her arm became so tight it reminded her of the strength of the Takers. He shook uncontrollably and with his hand tight around her upper arm, he shook her wildly too. Elle let out a scream as one last convulsion from Bob caused him to nearly jerk her shoulder out of its socket once again.
Her pain had just begun, but his was ending. He slumped over on the sofa and his hand dropped from her arm. The tell-tale sounds that she knew all too well from her brother Bobby and from George at the cancer center told Elle that Bob was dying, and a myriad of thoughts and fears overtook her. Among those fears were a few that pushed the others aside: First, someone must be a traitor, and it wasn’t Bob, who would have been a great ally with his military experience. Secondly, Bailey and the poisoned food supply were missing, and they were both key to the success of the plan. Thirdly, whenever it was time for the bus to bring the first load of workers home, there would be no bus driver, which would eventually and inevitably lead the alien beings to her, but even before that, she would be found by Jenny and possibly others with the dead body of Lieutenant Bob and with the other current events, she would likely be singled out as the traitor. And fourthly...
