“He’s awake? My god, he is awake!” Anger rose in him.
“He sees, but does not feel.”
“How can you know that? He is awake!”
“We did not know until it was too late,” she continued, ignoring his remarks. “Norman was perfectly fine in quarantine. Our protocol places aliens in quarantine for two of your days. One of us entered the chamber after decontamination. All was well for the next three days.”
The images from the wall changed. They showed the man, Norman, in white clothing sitting at a table with an alien. Norman laughed, his stubby red beard made his face look kind. Miriam joined Connors at the wall. Both smiled at the tranquility they saw. The alien and Norman were discussing a floating map. Norman laughed jovially.
The scene changed again. This time Norman had an instrument in his hand. He cut his finger by accident. Blood flowed. Suddenly, bells and alarms went off in the room. The alien moved toward a self-sealing door. He couldn’t open it. Flashing red lights whirled in each corner of the room. Norman rushed to aid the tall alien, screaming and beating at the door.
Both stopped beating and pulling on the door. They began shaking violently and fell to the floor. Norman succumbed first. The alien held on a few more minutes and then he died.
“Our scientists believe our auras are incompatible. After Norman cut his finger, a new aura formed and mixed with each of theirs. The new mixture changed them both, reanimated them.”
The scene behind the wall changed.
The new scene showed another tall alien entering the lab. While he examined the dead alien body, Norman rose.
Miriam winced. “Oh my God!”
“It can’t be,” said a stunned James Connors.
They watched Norman get to his feet. He made no sound that they heard. Without effort, he opened his mouth wide and clamped down on the kneeling alien’s upper back, near his neck. The alien moved, caught off guard. It tried to get Norman off, but Norman’s grip was tight and he chewed the alien flesh with relish.
The alien fell to the floor. Norman feasted.
The first dead alien rose. Connors could see his distorted face: long, crooked teeth, red eyes, and a wide open drooling mouth. Sounds came from that mouth though Connors could not hear them through the wall. The animated alien seemed akin to reptiles with its elongated mouth and sharpened teeth. It turned and it too feasted on the fallen alien.
“Oh god,” screamed Miriam. “Make it stop! Make it stop!”
Connors held her as they leaned on the wall, trying not to look. “Stop it! Turn it off!”
“You asked for honesty, Mr. President. I give you honesty. Look.”
A new scene shone from the wall. A group of three aliens entered the room. All wore a type of decontamination suit with tank on the back. Connors believed them to be air breathers like us. The animated corpses were in a pool of green blood, devouring the last bits of their alien feast. They looked up and let out what Connors suspected to be a howl before charging at the aliens. The aliens fired laser-beamed weapons into their bodies. Each fell.
Without warning, the center alien began shaking violently. Within seconds, he fell to the floor dead. They picked their dead comrade up off the floor and carefully carried him to an adjoining room. They sealed him in what looked like a glass vault in the center of the room. They returned to the first room.
The bodies were again showing signs of life. Each moved a finger. The aliens grabbed weapons with sharpened ends, presumably axes, from the wall and chopped their heads off. They then sprayed the bloody floor with a substance and the blood disappeared. Next, they used flamethrowers to burn the few chunks of flesh that remained from the first victim and the area that once held gobs of green blood. Last, they burned the bodies. The wall went dark.
“We are close to finding a cure to solve the problem. Until then, I will interface with you.”
“And the other of your race? The one taken into the other room, is he infected with what they had?”
“It’s airborne,” said Miriam.
“Yes,” said Norman. “You speak of—”
A siren sounded, preventing Norman from completing her statement. The bells were loud, forcing Connors and Miriam to double over and cover their ears to drown it out. Still, they heard the ringing. Connors took a painful step toward Norman. Norman’s eyes repeatedly shifted from left to right. “What the hell is that?”
A force field went up in front of Norman. The ground shook.
“Oh god,” screamed Miriam, “we are not going to fall, are we?” She fell to her knees trying to keep her ears covered.
Norman’s face lit up. Her eyes turned deep gray. A look of concern flitted across her face. The bells stopped. “You are attacking us. Why?”
President Connors removed his hands from his ears and got to his feet. “What?”
“You have launched weapons at our entrance. Explain.”
“I don’t believe it,” said Connors. “We would do no such thing.”
He and Miriam felt a shaking as if moving. He felt that feeling of descending in the pit of his stomach. They were going down. Seconds later the wall in front of Norman disappeared.
“Go, before it is too late. They must stop or they will rupture the containment field. Tell them! Go!”
Connors and Miriam ran.
An explosion shook the ground beneath their feet and they fell. Connors looked up to see the roof collapsing at the entrance of the cave. He heard a whooshing sound followed by a bang. Debris fell. He lifted himself and grabbed Miriam by the arm and together they ran for the narrowing exit.
It was in reach. Connors swallowed air filled with dust. Tears filled his eyes and made it hard to see. Chunks of rock and dirt fell all around them. The opening was fading into nonexistence. Fear took him and he ran faster, pulling Miriam. Miriam screamed and fell. He stopped, but didn’t see her.
“Miriam! Miriam!”
“I’m here, over here!”
James Connors couldn’t see her, the falling debris was too heavy. He heard another swoosh and then a bang. It flung him backward, away from Miriam. An electric shock went through him as he hit the ground. He hoped he hadn’t broken his neck in the fall. He was able to move his neck, thank god. He said his thanks too early. His vision cleared in time for him to see a huge slab of rock fall from the collapsing ceiling. It would finish him. He tried to roll out of its way, his right leg would not move, trapped under a boulder. He struggled to move to avoid his fate. Doom loomed in his future.
President Connors accepted his fate and closed his eyes. God be merciful and let it be quick.
A blue beam shot out from Norman’s chair. It was a force field low to the ground. It came above the President in time to stop the slab from crushing him to death. In astonishment, the President looked up and saw rocks hitting the field and stopping midair. He was saved. Hysteria overtook him. He laughed. Connors looked at the falling rocks and laughed.
“You can’t get me! You can’t get me!”
“Mr. President?” Miriam shouted. “Mr. President, are you all right?”
He laughed again. “I’m fine, Miriam. How ‘bout yourself?”
“Okay. I’m coming, sir.”
Connors realized he was being an idiot. He stopped laughing, disappointed with himself for not being stronger. He took his eyes off the rocks and followed the blue light. The light stretched ahead of him to what he thought was the opening. In the other direction the light went back to the metal box and to Norman. The President sat and looked in Norman’s direction.
The field was four feet off the ground. With the dust settling to the ground, everything became clear. Connors saw Miriam crawling toward him. No one could stand. The rocks pounded above them as she crawled. Her crawling brought a smile to his eyes. They had seen highs and lows together over the course of twenty years. Intertwined lives until the end. How fitting for it to end this way. Miriam stopped and coughed.
“Keep coming, Miriam.”
“I’m coming, sir.”
Miriam put her hands in front of her. She moved forward. She coughed but kept moving. When at his side, she stopped.
“About time,” said Connors. He gave a warm smile.
“I take a lickin’ but keep on tickin’.” Miriam stopped to catch her breath. She laughed with him, neither knew what to do next. She looked at his trapped leg. She frowned. “You don’t expect me to lift those do you?”
Connors chuckled.
Chapter Fourteen: Miriam
President Connors’ leg was underneath three large rocks. The last rock was more of a slab. Miriam believed his leg crushed. How can she tell him? Miriam fixed a smile on her face. “What I wouldn’t give for a genie and a magic lamp.”
Connors chuckled. Blood came out of his mouth and she grew alarmed. They heard another whoosh and then a bang. She braced against his chest as more rocks fell from the ceiling. She looked into his eyes, searching. Connors held her and he searched as well. She put a smile on her face. “Is that a genie or are you just happy to see me, sir?”
Connors chuckled. His face grew stern, authoritative.
“You have to go, Miriam.”
“We will leave together.”
“Miriam.”
“We leave together.” Her words were strong. She had trouble believing them though they sounded truthful. She looked at the falling rocks above, listening to the sound they made as they hit the barrier. It was mesmerizing. She tore her gaze from the sight above her, then looked around the cave floor for a lever to free her friend.
“Miriam, stop.” Connors reached upward and gripped her shoulders as she passed. “I’m not leaving here alive. We both know that. You have to go and warn them, Miriam. Warn them before it is too late. Go!” With his remaining strength, he shoved her forward. “Don’t look back, go. Go! Save us!”
Miriam took in a shaky breath. No matter what the President said, she wasn’t leaving. Somehow she would remove the rock. She moved forward in search of a lever. She heard him say something, she listened, it was a name—Katherine. Miriam closed her eyes to keep from crying. James Connors was more than a boss; he was a dear friend and would not die in this hell hole. She would find a way to help him. She would save him. She moved faster.
A noise behind her made her stop. She turned to see the area where Norman sat darkening. Was she dying? Was the tunnel going to collapse? Quickly Miriam moved to what she thought was light ahead of her. She paid no attention to her many cuts as she moved.
The light was her sole focus. Get to the light and get help!
Miriam crawled toward the light. A whooshing sound came. It came from behind her. Something enveloped her and lifted her off the ground. She went sailing through the tunnel away from the light toward Norman. She shouted, “No! Stop! No!” She hit the field above her head and tumbled end over end and then sailed toward the light at tremendous speed. Another whooshing sound. This time it came ahead of her. She screamed as the wall beside her gave way.
Miriam flew through darkness and then down the side of the mountain. She let out bloodcurdling screams. She fell toward the ground at a speed that surely would do more than break her neck. The earth would liquefy her. The rest would seep between the cracks and she would be gone forever. Miriam kept yelling until she hit the ground.
She stopped yelling and looked around her. She wasn’t dead; no bones broke, no bones cracked, no turning into a puddle of jelly, nothing remotely of a horrifying nature occurred. Miriam sat. She stood and performed a quick inventory. Her pantsuit was dusty and dirty, torn at the bottom. Her high heels were missing. Her knees shone through tears in her pants, packed in mud from dirt mixed with blood. She was thankful not to have a mirror. Her $200 hairdo was no doubt a mess. Her hair flew around her head in stringy waves, filled with dirt. She shook some of it out. The question returned to her, why wasn’t she dead? And why wasn’t she where she should be? She expected to be in front of the mountain; instead, she was far off to its west. A sound startled her. Pulverizing artillery flew into the mountain from two Apache helicopters and a Harrier. Behind them she saw three F-35 fighter planes maneuvering into position to launch their artillery into the mountain. Great chunks of debris flew into the air.
Miriam looked toward the Atlantic Ocean, but couldn’t see the ships they came from. That’s what happened. The Navy was attacking, but why?
After they fired, their guns went silent. Miriam listened to the sounds of the falling rocks. Dust filled the air. She watched the rocks tumble to the ground. From where she was she saw the mountain remained, though a huge chunk had been taken out of it. It looked as if it were a giant Hershey’s Kiss and some gigantic chocolate lover took a bite out of it.
She was too far inland to attempt a walk to the ships. From the valley she was in, she set out to find help and get word back to the White House. President Connors was dead and we had fired on friendly aliens. Hopefully, there would be time to warn them before the aliens retaliated. With a heavy heart, she made her way toward the stream a few yards from her. Her father once told her rivers lead to civilization, please let it be true.
Miriam thought of her phone, it was missing. She had to warn them, there was no time to loose. She took a breath and moved. She walked with a limp, beginning her journey in earnest, mourning as she went.
Chapter Fifteen: Zora
Zora rose from her bed, the familiar crib no longer at her side. After fifteen years, life was no better, except now her baby duties transferred to her hateful younger sister, Abigail. She dressed to begin a long day of housework. It wouldn’t be housework per se, it would be outside work. Her jeans and an old T-shirt made the perfect work clothes.
Zora sat on a bucket with her hands beneath Mildred, their cow. Mildred was the perfect picture of a cow. Her black and white spots reminded Zora of the picture of cows in her schoolbooks. The only difference was the back left leg of her cow was a fading yellowish-brown. Zora sat and squeezed the last drops of milk from Mildred. Both women had a sour look on their faces. She squeezed harder and then shook the udder before stopping.
With a wipe of her brow, another distasteful job completed. She looked at the overhead sky. It was cloudy, but bright. No chance of rain. The weather lady was wrong, again.
“Good girl.” She stood, reached over, and patted Mildred on her large backside. “Abby would be proud of you. You are a fine lady, despite what you have to go through.” Zora rubbed Mildred to soothe her. Both felt better after the rub.
Mildred mooed.
Zora looked about. Abigail was coming toward her wearing a baby carrier. Stewart’s little arms waved about as he giggled. Abigail took short careful strides to reach them. Zora gazed at the cow’s off-color back leg. She leaned in to whisper in Mildred’s ear. “I think so too. Don’t worry, Milly, I won’t let her hurt you.”
Sometimes it felt strange talking to animals, as old as she was, but on a farm, life is strange and you make do. Not being allowed to date and with the absence of close friends, family and barn animals were all she had. Animals were easier. Though she was older, Zora was often treated as the wayward baby and responded as such. It was a bad habit she found hard to break. Perhaps if she could get away, she could blossom. Oh well, she waited for the inevitable.
Stewart was seven months old. He sat in a brown carrier strapped to thirteen-year-old Abigail Baker. Abigail was directly beneath Zora and inherited baby duties when she turned eight. She preferred the carrier to strollers because it kept her hands free. Zora hated having babies stare straight at her and her mother didn’t approve of the baby turned with its back to her, although Abigail obviously broke that rule. Zora couldn’t wait until Abigail was old enough to take over. Little did she know that once she gave up those duties, she would be saddled with those dropped by older siblings. Life was not fair.
She tensed as she saw her sister approaching. Abigail started with Simon. She was mean to him so Zora took her duties back. Many times she would enter the room to see Abiga
il smirk, seconds later, Simon would yell out in pain and the demon would be wearing an exciting grin.
When their mother had her last child, she specifically made Abigail do her duty. Zora argued and volunteered to trade a much-older Simon for Stewart, but their mother objected. Their father stayed out of the fray and stood by as Rebecca was forced to slap Zora to end her protests.
Abigail was trouble and Zora knew it early. Only she had spent time in close quarters with the demon. The younger sister had a mean streak, much like the older sister, Beth Ann. Mildred moved backward. Zora rubbed her to soothe her more.
Years earlier, Abigail sought to prove chocolate milk came from chocolate cows. She found brown paint in the barn to paint Abby, Mildred’s mother. Abigail was in the barn alone with her namesake and Mildred. As she put a layer of paint on Mildred’s back left leg, her mother let out a long gasp and fell on her front legs.
The doctor said it was toxic shock that killed Abby. Zora eavesdropped and heard the word poisoning and knew her sister to be the devil’s spawn. She and her father scrubbed Milly raw to get the paint off. Zora protected her since.
Abigail strolled up to her with a bright smile. “Turd face? Anybody home?”
Zora blinked. “What do you want, Abby?” she said the name hard to needle her.
“Don’t call me that, turd face. Momma said to bring the milk; she is baking cakes for the wedding and needs the milk.”
“I’ll be there in a minute. I have to take Milly back to her stall.”
“You better hurry, momma said now.”
The little spitfire was every bit the redhead of legend. Waves of hostility shot from her to her older sister. Zora regretted that she once took a whipping for the little monster. Time had slowly twisted in on itself and somehow given Abigail the upper hand over her older sister. All the younger siblings lived in fear of Abigail’s rage. Her fiery red hair made her the spitting image of their mother and she wielded that power. Abigail gave a stray look to Milly, she accented the look with her exciting grin. A chill came over Zora. Abigail laughed at her shudder and turned to march back to the house. If only she would trip and fall in several cow patties on the way.
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