The Third Hour

by Richard Devin

  Bill immediately turned to run back to the spot by the rocks and the small bump in the desert landscape that he had just moved from. But he stopped dead in his tracks. Lynda and Commander Kupovits’ bodies lay atop the rocks, just above the spot where he had been when he came to. Even from this distance, Bill could see that the bodies were contorted. The muscles in their faces had been stretched and pulled, looking much like the painting of The Scream by the Norwegian painter, Edward Munch, which he had seen once on a slide in a required undergraduate course. He had found the painting to be an odd mix of emotion and texture. Even then, he had wanted to look away, but the painting would not allow him to. Just as now, the grotesque faces of Lynda and Commander Kupovits stretched into a silent scream, with eyes wide open, looking skyward and mouths agape, would not allow his eyes or his thoughts to drift away.

  There was but one thought, and one thought only, that repeated over and over in Bill’s mind, without regard for the insanity it was nearly causing him. If he had just traveled back in time and born witness to the crucifixion of Christ...

  Where had they gone?

  And, what had they seen?

  SIXTY THREE

  DOMINIC EASED OFF THE gas pedal, allowing the rental car to slow down. He pulled off of NM247, carefully maneuvering the car from the pavement onto the dirt road, just past mile marker 17. “Are you sure this is right?” He put his foot on the brake, bringing the vehicle to a complete stop.

  “It’s on the map,” Tonita said, feeling a bit nervous.

  The dirt road stretched out over the desert, running for miles ahead of them. They could see that it ran straight, then turned, climbing up a small hill, then twisted again and vanished into the distant desert.

  “Wow! Kinda like the ‘Yellow Brick Road.’” Dominic pursed his lips and whistled a few notes. “This is it?” Dominic asked once again.

  Tonita quickly turned back to the map. “This is it. But where is it?” she said, as she attempted to fold the map back up.

  “That is a very good question.” Dominic stepped on the gas and slowly moved the rental forward. “There’s only one direction, so I guess we head that way.”

  “And how do we know when we get to...wherever, there is?”

  “You know, Tonita? I don’t know. I’ve never been here and you’ve never been here, and I don’t know anything more than you do,” Dominic snapped.

  Tonita shook her head and turned away, staring out the window, watching as dust picked up and clouded behind them. “Okay. That was a little ‘Jekyll and Hyde’ of you.”

  Dominic breathed out a long sigh. “I’m sorry. That was unnecessary...I’m sorry. Really.”

  Tonita turned back to him. “I’m sorry, too, Dom. I’m sorry that I got pulled into this scheme and that I don’t know where I’m going, or what I’m doing or who I’m doing it with...Really!”

  Dominic slammed on the brakes, sliding the rental to a dusty stop. He jammed the gearshift lever forward, threw off his seat belt, grabbed Tonita by the shoulders, and kissed her.

  He kissed her...and she responded.

  She struggled with her seat belt. Tossed the map to the floor. And wrapped her arms around Dominic’s neck. Returning the kiss.

  Dominic leaned into her and she fell back against the passenger door.

  She could feel the sun beating down through the tinted glass, contrasting with the cool air blowing out of the vent in the dash of the car.

  A moment later, his hands found her breasts, and through her clothes, he caressed them.

  She pulled him in tighter to her. Her hands ran up and down his back, along his sides, and into his hair. She felt as though the earth below her was moving. She opened her eyes briefly, and saw that the sky above was moving. There were no clouds to speak of, only small wisps of white punctuating the vast openness of blue. But the white wisps streaking the sky, were in motion. “Dom?” Tonita started, then paused.

  Dominic breathed out heavily and said, “I know. I want you, too. Just as badly.”

  “No, Dom.” She brought her arms underneath him and pushed him up a few inches. “We’re moving.”

  “What?”

  “The car. It’s moving.”

  Dominic pushed up, and then scrambled to get back into the driver’s seat, while Tonita tried to right herself. “Oh shit,” he said, as he pushed his foot down onto the brake, stopping the car. Then slid the gearshift into park. He looked at Tonita and grinned. “I thought I put it in park?” He laughed. “Guess I got a little ahead of myself.”

  “Guess you did.” Tonita laughed with him.

  “Look, we don’t know where we’re going out here anyway, so why don’t we just head back into town, grab a bite and a room.” He paused a moment, grinning at Tonita.

  “You were saying,” she said, without a hint in her voice that she had picked up on his line.

  “Then we can do some research and head back out here tomorrow,” Dominic concluded.

  “Best plan I’ve heard in a long time.”

  Dominic put the car in gear, turned it around, and headed back out to route 247. Leaving the dirt road behind him, he turned left on a heading into Corona.

  “What was that you said about a room?” Tonita placed her hand on Dominic’s leg.

  He floored it.

  SIXTY FOUR

  BILL LOOKED OVER HIS shoulder, turning from the horrific open-mouthed, silent screams plastered onto the faces of Lynda and Commander Kupovits. The two horsemen were still approaching. Their horses moved slowly at a steady walk, kicking up little puffs of desert dust as each of the horses’ hooves were picked up and then placed back onto the dry earth. Nature’s choreographer had done a fine job here, moving the wind and the dust, and the beat of the horses’ hooves in perfect time. Step, dust, step, dust, step, dust.

  Lost for a moment in the mirage like vision of the horses, warped by the heat rising from the desert and their macabre dance, Bill snapped back to the reality of the moment. He moved quickly over to the mound of rocks. He carefully emptied the contents of his hand—brought with him through eons of time—onto a large piece of the metal foil he found stuck under the scrub brush. He began to dig. He pushed rocks aside and dug into the earth with his bare hands. Soil, which had been baking in the heat of the sun for millennia, formed a sharp desert crust that bit into his hands. But once he had broken through, the sandy soil was remarkably soft. He dug furiously, without regard to his now cut and bleeding fingers.

  Bill stood, wiping the sweat from his face, and looked back to the horsemen who had reached the water guzzler, stopping just several yards shy of it. Bill wasn’t sure if they had seen him, but he held out hope that they had not. He waited. Watching.

  The riders stood up in their stirrups using their vantage point atop the horses to see all around them. Bill countered by crouching down behind the rocks. He struggled in an awkward bent position to quickly shed the rags of torn cloth from his body, revealing the shiny metallic jump-suite once again. He pulled down the pant legs and rolled down the sleeves of the jump-suit. His shoes were gone, but there was nothing he could do about that, short of taking the ones off Commander Kupovits’ body. He gave it a quick thought, then dismissed it, and decided there wasn’t time and that it would be best to stay barefooted.

  He bundled the rags of cloth together quickly. Then he took the large piece of foil that held the contents of his hand and placed it together with the rags and cloth. He lined the hole that he had just dug with more of the metal, then placed everything into the hole and filled it in. He covered it with rock and dirt in a chaotic arrangement that he hoped mimicked nature.

  Moments later, after covering the hole and giving the site a quick inspection, Bill climbed up on top of the rocks. He steadied himself and waved his arms in the direction of the horsemen. He yelled, trying to push his voice past the rough, dry sound that his vocal chords produced. But he was quite sure that the horsemen could not hear him over the din of the baying sheep. He continued to wave his
arms and yell, until one of the horsemen turned his eyes from what he considered to be a well and the sheep to Bill.

  The smaller of the two horsemen pointed in Bill’s direction. The other turned, stared for a moment at Bill, and then, with a quick jolt on the reins of the bridle, whipped the horse’s head around and took off, heading back in the direction that he had come. The smaller horseman spurred his horse into a lope, catching up quickly with the other rider, who looked over his shoulder toward Bill. Then, he leaned forward in the saddle, urging his mount forward into a full gallop.

  SIXTY FIVE

  AFTER A BREAKFAST OF alien waffles, UFO sausage and flying saucer eggs at the Alien Café, Dominic and Tonita headed for the car. The day, like most in Corona, New Mexico, was hot, dry, and bright. The sun, unimpeded by clouds of any sort, beat down upon the desert and the asphalt.

  “You know those eggs we just ate?” Dominic asked Tonita, as they walked across the street, leaving the relative comfort of the Alien Café to the parking area of the motel.

  “What about them?”

  “We’re going to be fried in no time. Just like ‘em.”

  “Just be sure that I’m sunny side up.” Tonita sent a wry grin in Dominic’s direction.

  “Oh, you’re gonna be in trouble.” Dominic smiled. “Big trouble.”

  There was little traffic on the street and only an occasional tourist or local walked the sweltering sidewalks. Still, the Alien, UFO, and Of Another World kiosks that lined the sidewalk outside of the motel were open and ready to sucker in any one who could not possibly leave Corona without a memento of their investigation. In Corona, one could purchase every known and unknown alien souvenir imaginable. Vials of Crash Site Dirt sat next to: plastic flying saucers, alien-head flashlights, T-shirts, flip-flops, saucer caps, rings, pins, bracelets, and necklaces, all fashioned in the shape of a spacecraft or alien.

  Dominic smiled, nodding politely at a young man hawking the “Strange But True” souvenirs from a tented kiosk. Senator Scott was right, he thought, invent a story that was completely false, based on events that really happened, and a whole subculture will sprout. And it did. Not only about Roswell and the alien craft that crashed there, but also around Nevada’s Area 51 where the aliens from the Roswell crash were taken. The same was also true of Project Rainbow and the Eldridge—the ship that disappeared and reappeared miles away. According to Senator Scott, these stories, fables, and now legends were all true, or somewhat true. These events had now been clouded over by rumor and innuendo, and manipulated into folklore and legends. Thanks to the United States government.

  Dominic walked quickly by the kiosks, ignoring the calls of the vendors to stop and shop. He turned to hurry Tonita along. “Let’s get out of ...” he stopped in mid-sentence. She wasn’t with him. He looked quickly around, but did not see her. “Tonita,” he shouted in the direction of the motel. When she did not answer, he started back. He looked into each of the souvenir stands he passed, calling out her name several times to blank stares and no answers.

  Dominic looked back, following the curve of the street in the direction he had just come. The street was beginning to come alive. Several families with their kids in tow were making their way down the obstacle course of vendors and stalls. He noticed one little girl talking to someone hidden by the shadows of the overhang and the T-shirts swaying easily in the slight breeze. He waited a moment for the assumed parent or sibling to step out of the shadows. When he or she did not, he made his way up to the stall.

  “Oh Dom?” Tonita said. “Where did you head off to?”

  “Me? I was right there, and then you disappeared.”

  “Dom? I haven’t left this place.” Tonita looked at him cocking her head. “You kept walking. I thought that you would stop and wait for me.”

  “Sorry, I got a bit distracted.”

  “Easy enough to do around here.” Tonita smiled at him. “Look at what this little girl ...”

  “I’m not a little girl. I’m Annabel. I told you,” the child said.

  “Yes, I’m sorry you did tell me your name.” Tonita placed her hand gently on the child’s brunette curls. “Annabel was just showing me her puzzle.”

  “Wow. That’s nice, Annabel.” Dominic reached for Tonita’s other hand. “We’ve got to go now.” He smiled at Annabel. “Be careful. And go back to your parents now.” He took a step out of the kiosk.

  Tonita held tight to Dominic’s hand. “We should wait with her until her mom and dad come looking for her.”

  “It’s just my dad,” Annabel said, playing with a folded piece of paper.

  “Well then, we’ll wait until your dad comes to find you.”

  “He’s always getting lost.” Annabel grinned.

  “Annabel was just showing me her puzzle. Isn’t that right Annabel?”

  “Daddy made it. He’s good at making puzzles.”

  Dominic looked at Tonita and at the little girl, taking the hint. “Okay, where’s the puzzle,” he said, taking a step closer.

  “Right here, silly.” Annabel held up her hands, the forefingers and thumbs of each hand were pressed together holding what looked like a paper pyramid.

  “That’s a great little puzzle you got there, Annabel.” Dominic glanced back to Tonita.

  “Watch,” Annabel said, as she manipulated her fingers and thumbs and the puzzle changed shape.

  “Wow! You made it go from a pyramid to boat.” Dominic gave the little girl a wink. “That was great.”

  “Annabel? Annabel?” A tall thin man with shoulder length brown hair, slicked back, revealing strands of grey, stepped into the kiosk. “Annabel, what did I say about staying with us?”

  “Sorry, Daddy.” The little girl’s sheepish grin belied her true feelings.

  “She was just showing us her puzzle,” Tonita said, then added, “Hi, I’m Tonita and this is Dominic.” She extended her hand to the man. “Sorry if we kept your little girl.”

  “No, no. It’s not your fault. Jeff by the way.” He took Tonita’s hand. “I’m Jeff.”

  “Well, you have a wonderful little girl here.”

  Jeff rubbed his hand through the little girl’s hair. “We certainly do.”

  “I was showing them the puzzle you made Daddy.”

  “You really made that?” Dominic said, and reached out to the little girl. “May I see your puzzle?”

  “Sure,” Annabel said. “Daddy can make you one too.”

  “I use them in my class,” Jeff said. “I’m a school teacher, and I use these to get the kids motivated. They’re great for teaching math.”

  Dominic took the puzzle from Annabel and inserted his forefingers and thumbs into the small openings formed by the folded paper. “Like this?” He showed his hands to Annabel.

  “Now move them,” Annabel said, and squealed in delight as Dominic struggled with the puzzle.

  “You can make all kinds of these puzzles,” Jeff said. “Flexagons, are what they’re really called, and they can get pretty involved.”

  “This simple one is involved enough for me.” Dominic tried to manipulate the puzzle once again.

  “There you go,” Jeff said, as Dominic got the puzzle to change shape. “Now you have it. Doesn’t he Annabel?”

  “You did it, Mister. You did it.” Annabel clapped her hands together.

  Jeff pulled his daughter in close to him. “Hey, we better get going. Mommy’s going to wonder where we are.”

  “Well, it was very nice to have met you, Annabel.” Tonita extended her hand to the little girl.

  Annabel smacked it with her own little hand. “High five,” she shouted, laughing.

  Dominic handed the paper puzzle back to Annabel.

  She quickly placed it back on her fingers and began moving the puzzle and her fingers in time to a song that she apparently was making up as she went along.

  “Thanks, Jeff. It was nice talking to you,” Dominic said.

  “You too,” Jeff said, as he and Annabel walked away.
>
  “You ready?” Dominic looked at Tonita. “Or do you have some more alien souvenir shopping to do?” He smiled.

  “No, I’m done.”

  “Then let’s head out to the desert.” Dominic started in the direction of the rental. “Got the map?”

  “It’s right here.” Tonita patted the back pocket of her jeans.

  “Good.”

  The parking lot adjacent to the motel was nearly empty, there were a couple of old pickup trucks with faded paint that seemed to last forever in the dryness of the desert, a motorcycle, and the rented Oldsmobile Alero. Dominic tossed the backpack into the driver’s seat and quickly unzipped it. He pulled the page from the book on Roswell out of the pocket stitched into the inside of the bag. “Tonita, you think that this is some sort of map, right?” he asked, holding up the page.

  “That was my first thought.”

  “I did, too, and so did the Senator.” He moved around to the passenger side of the car, coming alongside of Tonita. “But if it is a map, we don’t know how to read it.”

  “Right. Look at it. The lines don’t make any sense. They don’t line up to form a roadway or a landmark. It’s just squiggles drawn onto a page.”

  A slow grin grew across Dominic’s face. “Come on,” he said, grabbing Tonita by the hand, yanking her in his direction. Together, they headed back out to the street, now slightly more crowded with both foot and auto traffic.