by Jay Ford
“Well, my dad's never around either,” Alex said, trying to comfort her. “He is always away on business, thanks to the war. Well,” he paused for a moment, “always was away.”
I thought about that for a moment. I had only met my uncle a handful of times, but he seemed really cool. It must've been hard on Alex to not have a dad around. Even though my dad was really protective of me—to the point that it got unbearable—I still missed him. You never know how much you love someone until they're gone, and all you have left is some memories of them. I wished I could make those memories come alive, so I could speak to him again.
I snapped out of my train of thought, and focused on the road. Just don't think about the past, I told myself over and over again. Focus on the future.
Everybody kept talking about random crap. After a while, Rae asked “What's that?” She pointed to something to the right.
I looked at where she was pointing. “People!” I shouted. I never thought I would be so happy to see complete strangers in my entire life. It was a little strange to see people huddled around the side of the road, but I didn't care.
“What are they doing there?” Alex said, leaning into the front seat so he could get a better view.
“I don't know,” I said. “But let's find out!” I slowly applied the brakes, as I pulled up to where five people were huddled around a fire.
“Why are they around a fire?” Sarah asked. “It's like eighty degrees outside.”
I shrugged. I opened the door to the FJ and got out. I was hit by a blistering wind. It had to have been in the thirties or forties. “What the hell?” I shouted above the wind. It was blowing at around fifteen miles per hour. It was so weird that it all of the sudden was cold again, after it being really hot for the past few months.
“I don't know!” Alex yelled back. “But let's see if they need any help and then get the hell out of here! It's so cold!”
I nodded, and ran over to where the people where at. There were three guys and two girls. They turned around to look at us once they heard us walking up behind them. They were all wearing business-type clothes. Once of the guys was even wearing a tuxedo. Another one was wearing a button-up shirt from Calvin Kline that was two sizes too small. The last guy was much shorter than everybody else and was wearing a black sweater, with shorts and sandals. Totally something my dad would wear. The ladies were wearing identical white dresses, with diamond necklaces.
They looked so strange—out of place. It was almost comical.
“What's with the fancy outfits?” Alex shouted, trying to break the ice.
All five of them let out a creepy chuckle, which grew into a crazed laugh. That's when I noticed it: they had the same crazy look in their eyes that the police officer had in her eyes back in the hospital. All five of them took one step towards us, while we took two steps back.
“Fancy outfits?” the short guy said, laughing. “You're a fancy boy!”
Wow. That was really creepy and would've been slightly homosexual, if it wasn't for the fact that he was totally out of his head, and probably had no idea what he was saying.
I felt a chill go down my spine, and it wasn't because of the cold weather.
One of girls took a step towards us. “Come here,” she said to me. “I want to show you something.”
Now, normally, most seventeen-year-olds would love it if a girl said that to them. However, in this situation, I wanted to run and scream. I stood my ground though. “What happened to you guys?” I asked them.
The short man who wore the sweater spoke. “The Grimms.” His voice sounded less crazed than the others, but his eyes were still crazy.
Then, he lunged at me. It all happened so fast, I barely had time to react. The man grabbed my arm and dug his teeth into it. I screamed in pain and in shock. The man shook his head, and my arm, like a dog would a chew toy. I was barely able to notice the other people attacking Alex, Sarah, and Rae. We were outnumbered and outmuscled because these dudes were really strong. I saw tuxedo-man grab Alex and throw him a few yards.
We had to get out of there.
I fell to the ground, and the short man fell over a little bit, but not completely. He had my left arm, so I took my right hand, and started punching him in the face. It was doing little to no damage, though. I knew had to get out of there, and help everybody else, though. I turned my desperation into adrenaline, and slugged Shortie as hard as I could. His grip faltered, and I reared back, and hit him as hard as I could again. He let go of me, and I jumped on top of his chest, and started punching him in the face again. I punched him over and over again with my right hand, since I was unable to use my left, thanks to his bite. He tried pushing me off him a couple of times, but I just kept punching him. My rage at him attack us took over. Finally, he stopped struggling, and I knew he was out cold. Maybe even worse.
I didn't even turn to look to see what everybody else was doing. I just ran to the car, threw the door open, and leaned over the passenger’s seat to grab my pistol from under the driver’s seat.
I turned around and saw Sarah and Rae fighting off three of the maniacs with giant sticks. They were swinging them at the crazy people, smacking them in the head as hard as they could. If I were the maniacs, I would've given up by now. But man, those people could take some hits!
I looked for Alex and saw the tuxedo-man making his way over to where Alex was picking himself up off the ground. I ran over to the crazy guy and jumped in front of him. He pushed me out of the way, and I was thrown to the ground. Man, that guy was strong. I jumped off the ground and cocked the pistol. I planted it in the man’s back. “Stop!” I yelled.
He kept walking towards Alex.
“I will shoot you!” I yelled. I wanted to give him as many chances as possible, you know, since the human race was now endangered.
The man turned around and placed his arms on mine. Once our skin touched, I heard him screaming incoherently. I also heard lots of other screams piercing my ears. It was just like when the Grimm touched me in the hospital. I fell to the ground, holding my ears. The screaming was too much. “Stop it!” I yelled. I looked up at the man who had his hands on me.
The screaming changed to incoherent shrieks, to every single one of them yelling the same thing: “Kill me!” It was one of the scariest things of my life. If I wouldn't have already been through so much, it probably would have been traumatizing.
Then I realized that his mouth wasn't moving. The screaming was all in my head. I stared into his eyes. They seemed so human. “What happened to you?” I whispered.
“Kill me!” the voices continued screaming. This time, the man yelled it out of his mouth, his voice filled with pain. “Kill me!”
“Kill me!” I heard again. I looked around and all of the other crazy adults were yelling the same thing. “Kill me!”
The screaming in my head got even louder. I crumbled into a ball and clutched my ears. My head felt like it was going to explode. “Kill them!” I shouted as loud as I could. “Kill them!” The screaming got even louder. I could barely think in order to try and figure out what was going on. I just wanted them dead.
There was a loud gunshot and the screaming in my head stopped. There were three more gunshots, and the other adults stopped screaming.
I became lightheaded and numb. The wound on my arm started to throb, and I started to get drowsy. My eyes slowly closed. My arm began throbbing even harder, and pain began to shoot through my body.
“Charlie!” I heard somebody say. I couldn't tell who it was yelling my name. Everything sounded so distant and far away.
I felt myself being picked up off the ground, and the sound of commotion and panic swarming around me. But all I wanted to do was fall asleep. Darkness took over me, and I did just that.
****
My eyes flew open. Everything around me was a blur. I could make out certain shapes but nothing else. My sight seemed like it had a black filter over it, making everything seem dark. My sense of smell and hea
ring, however, were heightened. I could smell gasoline, junk food, rubber, the snake slithering through the grass, everything. I could hear the soft, slow wind blowing on the outside of the car. I could hear a sign creaking way off in the distance.
Footsteps. I could hear them. I could smell the feet as they walked across the ground. They were outside of the car, coming from inside of a building.
Blood. I smelled it and heard it dripping on the ground
I needed it. I couldn't survive without it.
I started shaking in my seat. I had to get to the blood, and the human it came from. I reached for the doorknob, and in my excitement, I pulled it too hard and yanked it off. I roared in rage.
Roared? What had I just done? I coughed and spit up blood. Memories rushed into my brain. My parents, Alex, Sarah, Rae, what happened, why I was here. My vision started to revert back to the way it was. I could see clearly. I looked down, and all I saw was blood. All over me and the seat.
Blood.
My vision went back to the way it was, virtually nonexistent. I could smell the blood and hear the human. I punched the window as hard as I could, and it shattered. I climbed out of it—tearing the seatbelt—and started running towards the human. Only thing was, I was on all fours. I was taking strides like a cheetah: my hands and feet coming together and then pushing forward, stretching out in front and behind me.
What was I doing? I stopped quickly, rolling across the ground. I grabbed my head because it was throbbing. My mind was swirling with two different personalities. One was mine, the other was...something. I couldn't figure out what. It was like two people were fighting for control of my mind or like a virus that I was trying to overcome.
I looked around me, and saw I was at a gas station. I grabbed onto that thought and didn't let go. I am Charlie Freeman. I am at a gas station. I am human. I kept repeating that to myself. I started coughing again. Blood was pouring out of my mouth.
I sniffed. Blood. The other thing took control of my mind. My vision went black, again. I looked into the gas station and saw something.
There was a bright white light, shining like a lighthouse on the coast on a dark night. It pierced the darkness. I crawled closer to it. It was a little girl. I could make out her every detail perfectly. She was bald and had strange markings on her head where her hair should've been. She was wearing a white gown with one of her small arms behind her back.
“Don't worry, Charlie,” she said. Her voice was like a warm blanket on my mind. It was so soothing and made me feel safe. I stopped fighting the different personality. “I'll make you better.”
All of the alarms in my head started sounding off, but before I could do anything, she moved the hand that was behind her back in front of her. I could make out the silhouette of a syringe on her hand. She raised it above her head and drove it into my neck. I barely felt a thing as I fell asleep.
Book Two, The Enemy, is out now! Click HERE to buy!
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The following is an excerpt from book two in The Visitors Saga, The Enemy:
My mind swirled. I couldn't grasp hold of a single coherent thought that was dangling in front of me. Every time I felt myself grabbing one, it slipped through my fingers, being sucked up into the tornado of thought swirling around me.
“Charlie,” I heard. The voice was clear enough for me to hear. Right as it reached my ears, it was whisked away. “Charlie,” I heard again, much stronger this time. “Wake him up.”
Everything came to a screeching halt. My mind fell into place. I remembered everything that happened: the girl, the transformation I was going through. Everything.
I sat up as quickly as I could. I scratched at my arms, checking to make sure they were human—that I felt pain. That I wasn't one of them. I started screaming in pain as I dug my fingernails deeper into my arms. I bit down on my tongue until I could taste a warm copper liquid on it. I looked around as fast as I could to make sure my vision was normal, when I realized where I was at.
I was at a hospital. I looked beside my arms and saw a bloody IV needle next to my right arm. I had ripped it out while I was scratching. I looked down at my body, and I was wearing a hospital gown.
I felt somebody pushing on my shoulders, trying to get me to lie back down. My fight or flight instincts kicked in, and I started kicking and punching the man. He was an African-American man, who had huge muscles, and was really tall. I didn't care how big he was, though. I had to get out of there. I lifted my arms up and punched him as hard as I could in the throat. He released me and started grabbing his throat, gasping for air.
I jumped out of the hospital bed and looked around me for a weapon. I looked in the corner and saw a nurse standing with her back to it, fear plastered into her eyes.
“Charlie, just calm down,” a man said. I turned around and saw a doctor backing up into a corner. He was wearing a white coat and stethoscope around his neck. He had one of those headbands on that had a large light on it, with a small bowl looking thing around it. Basically, he didn't look like a real doctor. Well, at least not one from this century. “We're trying to help you. You're not well.”
“No!” I screamed. I knew something was wrong. Why were all of these people here? Everybody was gone. They were taken by the Visitors. I knew it. I remembered it. What was this place, though? Where had that girl taken me? What was happening to me before then?
I needed answers, and I needed them fast. I ran up to the doctor and grabbed him by the collar of the shirt under his lab coat. I lifted him off his feet and slammed him into the wall as hard as I could. The nurse in the corner let out a whimper. I turned to her and screamed, “I swear to God, if you move, or make a sound, I will kill you with my bare hands!” Rage rushed through me. But at the same time, shock and confusion did. What had I just said? Did I really just threaten that woman's life?
I shook it off, and turned my attention to the doctor, the shock and confusion turning into even more rage. “You better tell me where the hell I am right now, or I will hurt you very badly,” I said in a quiet voice. I let the emotions in my voice do all the shouting for me. I knew from the look on the doctor’s face, he knew I was telling the truth.
“You're at the Martin's Hospital for the Insane,” he said, struggling to get the words out because he was afraid at how I would react.
“You're lying to me!” I screamed as loud as I could. There's no way. I knew the Grimms were real. I wasn't insane! “Alex, Rae, all of them! The Grimms! The Visitors! Everybody disappearing! It's. All. Real! What are you even doing here? You should be gone!” I was inches from his face, letting the spit fly.
“They aren't real! You created them in your mind!” The doctor screamed the words at me, hoping they would get the point across faster. “We're trying to save you, Charlie! Help you!”
For the first time, doubt crept its way into my mind. What if I was insane? What if I did create all of those things in my mind?
“You're realizing it, Charlie,” the doctor said in a much calmer tone. “You know it's all fake.”
I shook my head. Those things were real. “No!” I grabbed the man by the throat and threw him across the room. He slammed into a counter that had all sorts of surgical supplies on it. He fell to the ground, knocking stuff off the counter with him. I threw him so hard, he was out cold. I had no id
ea I had that in me.
I ran to the door. I had to get out of there and find Alex, Sarah, and Rae. But as I was reaching for the door, somebody on the other side opened it before me. It was a man who looked like security guard. Behind him were a few more. He raised his gun and pointed it right at me. He pulled the trigger, and I felt a sharp pain in my chest. I looked down and saw a syringe on my chest, the needle sticking deep inside me. I fell to the ground hard, but I was out cold before I hit.
****
My eyes were closed, but I was awake, and could hear everything around me. Well, if there was any noise around me, I'm sure I would've been able to hear it. I couldn't open my eyes—I couldn't move anything, actually—but I could still think, and feel. And I could tell that I was tied down. There were straps around my hands, feet, chest, and forehead. They were all tightened way too tight—the fabric of the straps were making me itch like a mad man—but I tried my best to ignore it.
What's going on? I asked myself. Who kidnapped me? What was happening at the gas station? Or better yet, before then, with those people who attacked us? This was all so crazy. First aliens come; second, just about everybody disappears; third, the Grimms start killing everybody; fourth, people started going crazy; and now I'm being told I'm going crazy and that all of this was all in my mind? It was too much for me to handle. Doubt crept from the deep recesses of my mind and propelled itself to the very top coating every thought I had with it. What if I was crazy? What is all that happened took place in my mind? But it all felt so real! The running, the fighting...the fear, sadness, even a tiny bit of happiness. Right when I was adjusting to a life that should be impossible to adjust to, I'm being told that it was all fake, that I'm crazy.
To continue the story, buy The Enemy today!
