Scout groaned. “Really, Dad?”
“It’s a big one. Actually, I’m sure you want to go.”
“What are they voting on now, taking our right to breathe?”
“They’re voting on removing the electricity and technology ban. At least within the city limits.”
Scout jumped in surprise. “Really!”
“I told you, you would want to go,” his dad replied and turned to head back inside.
“Dad?” Scout called after him. “Do you mind if I take one of the horses out?”
“Where you headed?”
“Nowhere in particular. Just wanted to do some riding.”
“That’s fine. Just make sure you’re back before sundown. We have to leave early for the vote tomorrow.”
Scout rushed inside and put his shoes on then hurried to the stable. In five minutes he was trotting past Marshall’s farm as Wendy shot daggers from the porch.
He rode hard. Without the wagon or the rest of his friends, Scout was able to make it to the middle grounds in a little over an hour. Approaching the woods, he dismounted and tied the horse to a sturdy branch. “Be good,” he said then slowly started the same path he’d taken last night.
It didn’t take him long to clear the tree line and make his way up the gentle slope. Once he neared the top he dropped to his stomach and army crawled. Staring over the edge he looked down into the valley. The ship was still there and he scanned the area for anything else. Once he was sure he was alone, he made his way down to the crash site.
“Where did you come from?” Scout asked himself as he looked over the mysterious craft.
Suddenly there was a sound behind him and Scout whirled around. A few feet away was a figure dressed in some kind of suit that covered their entire body. It was a light gray fabric with hardened pads on the knees and elbows and a helmet with a metallic reflective visor.
Scout shuffled to his feet then smiled and lifted his hand. “Hello?”
The figure didn’t respond.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?”
They set the pile of wood on the ground then straightened up. Moving deliberately, they gripped the sides of their helmet and slid the release forward, air hissed as the pressure normalized. Scout swallowed and took a step backward, once again brushing up against his urge to run.
The flyer pulled the helmet off and Scout gasped as the face of a girl somewhere around his age came into view. Locks of brown hair spilled down her shoulders as she shook her head then forced an awkward smile. She stared at Scout with golden hazel eyes then opened her mouth and spoke, “My name is, Ruby.”
~THE END~
~Continue the journey with~
“Stargazing: Deconstruction A.D. Book Two”
Coming February 2020
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About the Author
The date was October 31, 1979. The air was cool, and a light fog blew in from the gulf, cloaking the Tampa area in an ominous, tight-fitting tunic. The annual Halloween festivities had just begun, and a night of mischievous tomfoolery was afoot.
Scandalous and nefarious characters took flight. Doorbells were rung, and ill-boding tricks were played regardless of the treats given. This was the dark reality of the bustling Florida metropolitan.
To the north, Grateful Dead crooned the night's theme music at the Nassau Coliseum. Within earshot of the concert, witnesses stated a UFO hovered over the grounds for thirty minutes before vanishing.
At the same time the Cromarty's were busy hosting their notorious Halloween party at 112 Ocean Ave., better known as the Amityville Horror House. Screams and cries for help were reported throughout the night, punctuated with the disappearance of the family next door. They were never heard from again.
Unknowingly altering the course of history, Kurt Vonnegut released "Jailbird" the same week KISS gained infamy on The Tomorrow Show. The aftermath of this collision would not be felt for decades until the emergence of Justin Bieber.
After a night filled with mayhem and destruction and the deaths of several prominent entertainers, politicians and a notorious bank robber, the Federal government was forced to loan $1.5 billion dollars to Chrysler. This spurred a series of violent protests, resulting in the Brunah Agate oil spill. Over 10.7 million gallons of oil were dumped into the Galveston Bay. This became the worst oil spill disaster in U.S. history.
A few hours later, on November 1, 1979, Rashad Freeman was born. Feel free to draw your own conclusions.
"I'm a writer, I right things."
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