Misplaced Trilogy

by Brian Bennett

  “What?”

  “Hey, before you go barkin’ into my ear. She called me. And it’s a damn good thing she did.”

  “Why? Wh-what happened?”

  “She called me up sayin’ these creepy dudes were staking out her place, and since she couldn’t get hold of pretty-boy, she called me.”

  “FBI agents?”

  “Hell, no. They were mother effing aliens.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “You’re damn right I’m sure. I’m staring at the sons of bitches right now.”

  “They’re still watching her.”

  “No, I mean right here in front of me. I got them tied up. I’d let you speak to them yourself, but they ain’t said jack since we pounced on ‘em.”

  Zach stared at Trey with a confused look, missing the key parts of the one sided conversation.

  “Where are you?” Trey asked. “At the dorm?”

  “No, no, no. We’re right in the middle of ground-zero. We’re in Longwood.”

  “Let me talk to Amy!”

  Zach perked up. “What?”

  Trey waved him off. “I’ll tell you in a minute.”

  Zach grabbed for the phone, but Trey swatted him away. “Amy?”

  “I’m fine, Trey,” said Amy on the other end. “This isn’t some kind of trick or trap. Mom was worried, so I came home. I think these guys were waiting for me.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “Yeah, she’s fine. She’s here with us.”

  Zach snatched the phone with a snake-like strike. “Amy, are you okay? I’ve been calling for hours.”

  The back glass slid open, and Livy shoved her head through the window. “What’s all the commotion? Who’s on the phone?”

  “It’s Amy,” said Trey. “Tell Dad to turn around; we’re going to Longwood.”

  Trey grabbed the phone forcefully. “Amy, where exactly are you?”

  The phone went silent as Trey scooted out of Zach’s reach, fending him off with his feet.

  “Uh,” Amy finally answered. “I’m not sure I should say it over the airways.”

  “Are you still in Longwood?”

  “Maybe,” she said, hesitantly. “Listen, Trey, I know your shoulder still bothers you when you think about this place.”

  “Oh,” he said. Something as memorable as being shot was hard to forget. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously!”

  He rolled his eyes. “We’re on our way.”

  As the truck jostled through the grassy median in an illegal U-turn, Trey ripped off the battery cover. He cocked his arm to hurl the battery.

  “Don’t do it!” Zach cried.

  “Fine!” Trey tossed the battery to his friend. He scurried to the window and shoved the dead phone inside. “Keep this. We’re headed to the Taylor Barn!”

  Reunion

  THE OLD PICKUP truck slowed to a crawl as Trey gaped over the bed rails at his darkened lifelong home. The Collins farm sat dormant, the gray weeping willows adding to the ghostly scene. The pitch black windows looked hollow, but one stood out sorely from the others. Behind the front porch, plywood covered the large picture window like a bandaged eye.

  He looked through the cab to see his mother turned away, deliberately avoiding sight of her vacant home.

  The loud muffler cackled as the truck picked up speed, taking them farther along route 808 toward the old barn where unknown trouble waited.

  Zach hadn’t spoken since Dylan’s call, but his angry glare had eased. He sat huddled with arms tucked inside his polo shirt, his empty sleeves fluttering in the wind.

  The cool, pre-dawn air had lost its bitter edge when they hit Ohio, but the goosebumps on Trey’s skin were larger than ever.

  He checked the skies for motion, but a thick blanket of clouds shrouded the stars, giving the surrounding farmland a gloomy semblance to the wasteland of Kryo.

  Trey rose onto his feet and peered over the cab, squinting against the rushing road-wind. Ahead, the dim silhouette of the Taylor farm grew steadily closer. The headlights went dark, and his father eased off the gas pedal, letting the truck idle to a long slow approach.

  Details of overgrown brush and a strangled fence-line sprang up along the road as Trey’s eyes adjusted to the low light. The distant horizon showed promise of a sunrise, muted by the heavy cloud-cover.

  Slivers of yellow light broke through the vertical barn siding, hinting at activity inside. He shook his head in aggravation; anyone familiar with the Taylor family would have surely found it peculiar.

  Zach rose alongside him as the truck eased into the weed infested driveway. Warily they watched the dark farmhouse windows, expecting Widow Taylor to light one up at any second. The creeping tires crackled the gravel as the pickup circled to the back of the barn.

  The large door slowly slid open. Dylan appeared, waving the truck inside. Behind him, a crowd of backlit shadows stood near his brown Chrysler sedan.

  “Here we are again,” Trey said quietly, ducking for the low entrance.

  Zach hunched away to the tailgate and threw a leg over the back before the truck had even stopped.

  Trey grabbed an overhead beam and swung himself off the side of the bed, lowering softly to the dirt floor.

  The driver’s-side doors popped open and Livy met him face to face. Together, they skirted past Trey’s father toward the faces in the shadows.

  Amy broke out of the darkness to meet Zach with a hug, and though Trey’s heart leapt at seeing her, he silently thanked her for going to Zach first.

  Amy’s mother eased forward, looking lost and bewildered, clutching baby Pearl to her shoulder. Her face eased noticeably as Trey’s parents strode up to join the tense reunion.

  A tall, dark figure stepped out of the shadows, sending chills up Trey’s spine.

  “Jeremy?” said Livy.

  “You got it,” said Dylan’s lanky best friend.

  Surprised and relieved, Trey extended a hand to Jeremy, suddenly more interested in the two men seated on hay bales behind him. “Good to see you.”

  “Yeah, too bad it’s never actually good,” said Jeremy, turning over his shoulder. “They’re tied up well. Don’t worry about them.”

  Dylan firmly gripped Trey’s shoulder from behind. “Welcome to the party.”

  Trey turned to Dylan’s ghostly white face and huge blue eyes. “Hey, Big D. Thanks for the invitation.”

  Dylan bowed his head to Livy. “A pleasure as always.” His big eyes widened as Meagan slipped into the mix. “Helloooh, Ginger,” he crooned.

  Meagan didn’t bat an eye. “And who are you? Freakenstein?”

  Trey rolled his eyes, unsure which of the two was most offensive. “Can we get to business here? What do we know about those two scumbags over there?”

  Dylan reluctantly broke his gaze from Meagan to eye the men in the shadows. “You’re gonna love this. The one on the left is a celebrity. He’s the dude from the Doctor Frank show.”

  Meagan pushed forward. “Shut. Up. Is that really the Moorehouse kid?”

  Trey’s stomach churned. “Oh, I hope you’re right. I’ve got a score to settle with that phony.”

  “It’s him all right,” said Dylan. “We’re not sure about the old guy, but we think he’s his father.”

  “Oh, it just keeps getting better.”

  A moan erupted from the truck cab, sending Meagan on a frenzy to check her mother.

  “Who’s in the truck?” asked Dylan.

  “It’s her mom.”

  Dylan rose onto tiptoes. “What’s her name anyway?”

  “Uh, I don’t know . . . Mom.”

  “No, you dufus. The chick with the green hair.”

  Trey turned away, focusing on the men in the dark. “Ask her yourself.”

  Dylan strode off toward the truck to find out.

  Trey turned to Jeremy with a huff. “Seriously? He couldn’t wait?”

  Jeremy shrugged. “That’s Dylan for ya.”

  Livy broke in. “Trey, I
know you’re ticked off about the Doctor Frank stuff, but don’t do anything stupid.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. I’ve only got one thing in mind. I wouldn’t harm our live bait.”

  She smiled. “So, you’re thinking what I’m thinking.”

  “Oh yeah. I’ve been thinking it the whole way here.”

  “Um, excuse me,” said Jeremy. “I don’t know if you’ve got some alien brain connection going on, but I don’t know what either of you are thinking.”

  Trey turned his back to the men on the hay bales and lowered his voice. “We’re gonna hi-jack a UFO.”

  Jeremy’s face went sour. “Say whu?”

  Trey turned back to Livy. “I just don’t know how to ditch everyone else so they don’t get hurt.”

  She looked to the group making over baby Pearl. “I know . . . It’s like a bad family reunion. No offense.”

  “Put me in the everyone else crowd,” said Jeremy.

  “We may just have to tell them,” said Livy

  Trey’s father gazed suspiciously in their direction.

  “Yeah, you’re right,” said Trey. “But not yet.” He turned to Jeremy. “Go keep the family occupied while we have a chat with our guests.”

  Influence

  TREY STOOD OVER his emotionless captives, ready for a not-so-friendly game of good cop, bad cop. He smiled inwardly, enjoying the thought of his role as the bad one. The two con artists had caused irreversible damage to too many unsuspecting victims.

  The younger of the blue-eyed men was undoubtedly the talk-show guest, but even in the dim lantern light, it was clear that makeup had covered the blond’s true age for the small-screen. Even at the likely age of thirty, he was a youngster compared to the haggard man next to him with the short, white pony-tail.

  Dylan hovered behind the suspects, flexing his thick biceps. Livy waited at Trey’s side, ready to intervene at the opportune moment.

  Trey leaned toward the older of the two, waving the bug-shaped communicator in the man’s face. “I’m gonna ask you nicely to tell me how to operate this thing, and if you don’t answer me. My friend here is gonna squeeze this little pimple beside you until he pops. Comprendo?”

  Livy fought back a laugh. “Comprendo?”

  Trey attempted a snarl. “You get the idea.”

  “Sorry,” she said. “But you sound like Carl and Dale. I can’t go there.”

  Trey’s pride withered, feeling as though he’d lost at the game of dumb cop, smart cop.

  “Look, guys,” said Livy. “I know you’re on of us. You’re not heartless like the brothers. My father was an agent just like you, but he sacrificed his life to save us.”

  The men remained stone-faced, so she pleaded to the eldest directly. “When the brothers figured out you’re generation could reproduce, they locked your women away. You all thought they were killed, but they’re still alive, and you can help us save them. Please.”

  When the cold man didn’t flinch, Trey huffed. “He doesn’t care. He’s obviously fond of Earth women.”

  The younger one shifted, the first sign he wasn’t made of stone.

  Livy redirected her gaze. “You were lucky, Steven. If you’d been a girl, you wouldn’t be here. How can you support monsters like that?”

  His fiery eyes shot to her. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Shut up!” the older man barked. “They’re trying to bait you.”

  “No,” said Trey. “We’re only speaking the truth.”

  The father’s hard eyes rose slowly. “Belief does not equate to truth.”

  “Yeah, well, I believe you’re a coward like the rest of your planet. ‘Vinum torbi unu’ my ass. ‘We shall be wimps’ it should say.”

  “Spoken like a true abomination.”

  Trey drew back to strike, but Livy stepped between them. Trey gazed over the concerned eyes of his family and friends, all glued to every word that had transpired.

  He lowered his fist. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”

  “No, but your parents did. They spawned you for their revolution, the army that never came to be.”

  “No,” said Trey. “It wasn’t like that. It was a study.”

  “Keep on believing that.”

  Trey searched his heavy heart. “Even if you’re right, what’s wrong with fighting for freedom?”

  The man shook his head. “A freed dog returns to its master or becomes feral.”

  Trey huffed. “Spoken like a true mutt.” He held up the communicator, changing tactics. “Surely they took someone you care about. Help us save them.”

  The man’s eyes fell straight ahead, cold and rigid.

  Meagan stepped forward. “Let me talk to him.”

  Trey’s lip curled to a wry smile as he recalled the gritty taste of chewed paper. “They’re all yours.”

  The men focused straight ahead as she flaunted into the space before them. Steven’s eyes broke first, zeroing in on her exposed midsection. She lowered seductively to make eye contact.

  The transformation in his sentiment was instant.

  She spoke for the benefit of the onlookers. “Will you help us?”

  Steven nodded obediently.

  She took the communicator from Trey and showed it in front of the men. “How do we use this thing?”

  Steven beamed. “It needs to be unlocked first.”

  The older man whirled. “What are you doing?”

  “It’s all right, Dad. I wanna help.”

  Meagan flashed her eyes at the father’s angry stare.

  “Of course,” the man said, melting. “I’m proud of you, son.”

  Steven scooted to the edge of the hay bale, exposing his bound hands. “Move it closer so I can press my thumb to the screen.”

  Trey held his breath, hoping the men weren’t laying a trap of their own.

  Confident in her ability, Meagan offered the flat-screen to Steven’s outstretched thumb. The device lit up on contact, and she pulled it away.

  Steven bounced back into position, facing her. “Now hold your thumb in the same spot until it learns to recognize your print.”

  She glanced into his eyes, reaffirming dominance. “Here,” she said, handing the communicator to Trey. “I think Steven would like to show you how to work it.”

  Showtime

  EARLY MORNING SUN pierced the barn through every crack and knot-hole in the rotten siding. A million things could go wrong in the coming madness, but Trey pushed those thoughts aside, knowing endless troubles were guaranteed by doing nothing.

  Trey eased Meagan’s mother from the truck cab and lowered her gently into the wheelchair. She muttered something unrecognizable as he rose away.

  “She said to be careful,” said Meagan. “I explained everything to her and she understands.”

  He squatted, laying a hand on the woman’s forearm. “Thank you . . .” He looked up to Meagan for help.

  “Elizabeth,” she said.

  “Thank you, Elizabeth. I’ll be super careful.”

  He rose and stepped back a few paces, drawing Meagan aside. “Take this.” He handed her the stone transmitter inside a plastic baggy. “You’re the only one here that can use it if you need to reach us.”

  “But, how?”

  “Just close your hand around it. The rest will come naturally.”

  She nodded, accepting the plastic bag.

  “And one more thing. If I ask you to smash it, just do it. Don’t ask questions. Just smash it with a rock or a hammer or anything you can find.”

  “Ookaay?”

  “Just smash it!”

  “Okay. I got it.”

  He smiled. “Thanks.”

  “Thank you,” she said, her eyes passing through a narrow ray of light.

  He stiffened. “Stop that.”

  “Stop what?”

  “Making me want to kiss you.”

  She smiled innocently. “That was all you.”

  He turned away, unsure of the truth. “Let’s g
o! It’s show time.”

  Jeremy slid open the barn door, bathing the old beat up truck in light. Trey hopped into the back seat and slammed the door.

  Livy faced him with curious eyes. “Did she take it?”

  “Yeah. Let’s just hope we don’t need her to use it.”

  Dylan fired up the engine and threw the shifter into reverse. Beside him, Zach threw up his hand, waving nervously to Amy in the gang seeing them off.

  As the truck backed away, Meagan pounded on Zach’s glass. “Wait! Hold up. Hold up.”

  When the truck stopped, she yanked open the door. “I should go, not you.”

  Zach seemed flabbergasted. “What? What are you talking about?”

  She lifted onto her toes to address Trey and Livy in the back seat. “They’ll be expecting four freaks, right? One look at Zach here and you’re busted.”

  “I know that,” said Trey. “We’ve got the transmitter. It’ll cover him from his pocket wherever he goes.”

  “And when they see right through it? What then?”

  Trey shook his head, agitated. “At least he doesn’t have green hair.”

  “Come on, Trey. They’ll be looking at our eyes. And when they do, I’ll have those suckers singing Ring Around the Rosie before they know what hit ‘em. They won’t give a crap about our hair.”

  Livy scooted forward. “She’s got a point.”

  Trey patted Zach on the shoulder. “Looks like you’re riding the bench, pal.”

  “Hey,” grumbled Zach. “Don’t I have a say in this?”

  “Nope,” everyone answered simultaneously.

  Meagan handed Zach the stone transmitter and lowered herself to explain the situation to her mother.

  Zach turned to the back. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

  “Just hold onto it. Just in case.”

  “No! No way I’m blowing anyone up.”

  “Just keep it.”

  Zach tossed the plastic baggy into the back. “Blow yourselves up.”

  Trey shook his head. “Such a pain. When we get back, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

  Zach grinned. “You’re not fast enough to catch me.”

  “We’ll see about that.” Trey flung the stone back to Zach. “Keep it. It may be our only way to get in touch.”