Big Game

by Daniel Smith

  “All right.” I took a deep breath and nodded. “Be brave, Oskari, be brave.”

  I stepped closer to the pod and put out a finger to punch the numbers into the pad.

  1

  I hesitated, doubt creeping into my mind.

  4

  What if I was doing the wrong thing?

  9

  What if there was something bad inside?

  2

  For a second nothing happened, then came a loud grinding of gears, accompanied by a clanking and hissing of hydraulics like someone had just opened a giant can of Coke. After everything having been almost silent, it was so sudden and so loud that it scared the life out of me. I jumped back and scurried into the trees, burying myself in a flurry of ferns and lifting the bow, ready to fire at whatever nightmare might appear from the pod.

  The door popped open with a rush of air, and swung to one side, spilling orange light into the fine mist and smoke that hung in the air. It mingled with the red glow from the top of the pod, filling the darkness with color that seeped out into the forest.

  From where I was hiding, it was like watching everything through a greasy window, and I squinted, trying to see more clearly. It was difficult to make anything out, though, so I wasn’t sure what I was looking at when a silhouette appeared in the doorway and unfolded itself from the pod.

  There was a splash as it stepped into a large puddle that had formed by the door, and the creature grunted. This was followed by a sucking noise that might have been some kind of speech, or might have been a foot being pulled out of the soft mud.

  The creature was nothing more than a dark shape outlined by orange-red light, but it looked more or less man-size and man-shaped. I didn’t want to take any risks, though, so I stayed where I was, crouching a little lower into the undergrowth.

  With a sudden hiss, the pod door burst back into life, making the creature spin around with a start. It watched as the grinding gears started up again and the door returned into place and sealed shut. After that, the forest fell silent once more and the creature stepped forward, head turning. It stopped a few paces from the pod and lifted an arm as if it was looking for something, or reaching for a weapon.

  “Morris?” it said. “Morris?”

  Was it speaking English? It sounded like English.

  There was a sudden spark and hiss, and a bright blue flame burst alive in the night, dazzling me and making me look away.

  “Morris?”

  As my eyes grew accustomed to the brightness, I turned back to look at the figure standing by the pod, one hand held out in front of it, gripping the burning light that fizzled and spat like a signal flare. Smoke was rising from it, and the drizzle shimmered in its blue glow.

  “Morris?” It spoke again and took a few more steps in my direction. “Anyone?” Definitely English. Then the blue light sputtered and died, leaving the creature in the orange-red glow once more.

  For a moment it stood there, nothing but a silhouette, then dropped to its knees and bent its head as if praying.

  “Damn it.”

  Whatever or whoever it was, it sounded lost and afraid. This wasn’t just a landing; it was a crash landing, and one that might not be an accident. Something else occurred to me, too — if Hazar and his men had done this, then surely they would come looking. And how long would it be before they got here? I braced myself and rose up among the ferns.

  Staying in the shadows, I drew the bowstring halfway, shaking as I tried to keep the oversize weapon steady while aiming the arrow straight at the alien creature. I took a breath, puffed out my chest, and spoke in my deepest voice.

  “Who are you?”

  The creature stopped muttering and shifted, snatching its head up and looking around for the source of my voice.

  “What are you?” I said, remaining hidden in the darkness outside the splash of orange-and-red light.

  The creature moved again, turning in my direction.

  “Where are you from?” I said, trying to sound older and stronger.

  “Who is that?” the creature asked, getting to its feet with some effort.

  I made myself stand my ground and hold the bow as steady as possible. “I asked first. Where are you from? What are you?”

  “What am I? What are you talking about?” It leaned forward, peering into the darkness.

  “Who are you?” I repeated. “You better tell me now, or I’ll shoot.”

  “Shoot?” The creature put its hands out to either side. “No, don’t. Please. I’m not —”

  “How do you know how to speak English?” I demanded.

  “I … um …” He peered closer and took a step toward my hiding place. “Look, am I talking to a kid?”

  I gripped the bow tighter and held back the string, wishing I could pull it farther, wishing it was more deadly in my hands. “I’m not a kid. Do you come in peace?” I asked. This creature didn’t seem much like an alien to me, but that didn’t mean it — he? — was harmless.

  “Uh, yes,” it said. “Yes, I come in peace.” The creature took another step forward, still holding its hands out to the side so I could see they were empty. “And, um, I just want to point out, I’m not actually an alien or whatever else you think I am. I’m … well, I’m a man.”

  I hesitated, feeling a little ridiculous but telling myself this was still a dangerous situation.

  “In fact, I’m the leader of the free world.”

  “What?” I plucked up all the strength and courage I had and stepped out of the undergrowth, holding the bow in front of me, pointing the arrow at the man’s heart.

  He must have heard me coming before he saw me, because he started backing away and stumbled on something, tripping and falling with a splash. He landed on his backside in a puddle, saying, “Damn!”

  Seeing that as an advantage, I strode closer so I was standing right over him, and aimed my arrow down at his chest.

  “Whoa! Easy, kid.” He put his hands up in front of him. “Come on, put that down. Please.”

  “You call yourself the leader of the free world. What do you mean by that?”

  “Oh. Yeah.” The man shuffled away and got to his feet, so I took a step back. “I guess it does sound a little presumptuous,” he said, drawing himself up to his full height.

  Now that he was standing in front of me, it was pretty obvious he wasn’t an alien, and I flushed at the foolishness of even thinking it. I could see now that he was tall and dark-skinned, and so bald that the orange and red lights glimmered on the top of his head. He was wearing a suit that was covered in mud and when I looked down, I noticed he was wearing only one shoe.

  He followed my gaze, then looked up and forced a smile, showing a glint of white teeth. “I know. I’ve got to admit, I’m not feeling too presidential at the moment.”

  “You’re a president?” I asked, lowering the bow slightly.

  “Yeah.” He touched the lapel of his jacket, where some kind of badge winked in the colored light. “The President of the United States.”

  “What?” I almost laughed. What on earth would the president be doing out here in the middle of nowhere? In my forest?

  “Hard to believe, I know, but it’s true.”

  “Prove it.”

  The man thought for a moment, tightening his lips. “You don’t recognize me? From the news, maybe?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “But you’re not convinced, right?” He sighed and looked down at himself. “Well, it is dark, and I guess not many people would recognize me in this mess. All right, well, I’m not used to having to ID myself but …” He reached into his inside pocket, and I raised the bow once more, aiming directly at his heart.

  “Whoa!” He stopped what he was doing and put out his hands again. “It’s all right, kid, take it easy. Just … look …” Very slowly, he pinched the lapel of his jacket with one hand and pulled it away from his chest so he could ease the other hand inside. “I’m just getting some ID, okay? That’s all.”
/>   I watched him like a snake as he removed a small booklet from his inside pocket and held it up to show me before throwing it in my direction.

  The booklet landed by my feet.

  “You know my name,” he said. “At least tell me you know the president’s name.”

  “Alan Moore. Everyone knows that.”

  “Okay. Good.” He pointed at the booklet. “Check it.”

  “Don’t try anything,” I said as I lowered the bow and bent down to take it. “Stay where you are.” I picked it up and turned it toward the light.

  A passport.

  I glanced up at the man, then opened the passport.

  There was a photograph of him inside, and it said that his name was Alan William Moore. I studied the photo, and looked over at the man. He ran a hand across his head as if he was smoothing down his hair, even though he didn’t have any. Just like in the photo, and just like I had seen on TV.

  There was no denying they were the same person.

  “Do you always carry your passport with you?” I asked.

  “When I’m going abroad I do. Everyone has to. Which begs the question: What country am I in?”

  “Finland.” I stepped closer to him and held out the passport.

  “Well, that’s a start.” He took it and put it back into his jacket. “Whereabouts in Finland?”

  “Mount Akka.”

  “We’re on a mountain?”

  “Yes.”

  “And do you have a phone?”

  I shook my head. “Don’t you?”

  He patted his pockets, then wrapped his arms around himself and shrugged. “I guess I left it on my desk. Is your house near here, then? A village or town?”

  I shook my head again and looked him up and down, seeing the way he stood with his shoulders hunched. His clothes were wet through from the puddle and the rain, he sounded as if he was having trouble breathing, and he had only one shoe. He looked about as miserable a person as I had ever seen. President or not, he was a mess.

  “Well, there must be something. I mean, where did you come from?”

  “We can’t go there now — it’s too far and too dangerous.”

  “Dangerous?”

  “Yes. We need to go,” I said, remembering everything I had seen over the last few hours. “It’s not safe here.” I paused, hardly believing what was happening and what I was going to do. “Follow me.”

  He didn’t move. He just watched me, and I knew he was thinking the same thing as everybody else. Short and skinny, wrapped up in camouflage and with a backpack of odds and ends, I didn’t look like much. How would someone like me be able to help someone like him?

  “No,” he said. “I’m … no. I have to wait for help.”

  “I’m help,” I said. “Follow me. We have to —”

  “No offense, kid, but follow you where? You just said your village is too far.”

  “Somewhere safe,” I told him. “Somewhere we can make a shelter. A bit higher up the mountain there’s a place. I can make a fire and —”

  “No, we should wait here for help.” The president looked back at the escape pod. “That’s the best thing to do. There’s a transponder in there, or whatever the hell they call it, and help will be on its way soon. Look, kid, you probably mean well and think you know what to do, but it’s only a matter of time before this place is crawling with SEALs.”

  “Seals?” I wasn’t sure how seals were going to help us.

  “Navy SEALs. Sea, Air, and Land. Special Forces soldiers,” he explained. “They’ll be here any moment, so we should stay right here. I can’t go walking halfway up a mountain with just one shoe.”

  “So will your Navy SEALs get here before the men who shot you down?”

  The president’s mouth fell open and he blinked hard. “What … what did you just say? Did you say ‘shot down’?”

  “Yes. At least, I think —”

  “No. No, that’s wrong. We crashed. Some kind of malfunction and —”

  “Shh!” I put a finger to my lips and stopped him. “Listen.” I cocked my head to one side and cupped a hand behind my ear. “You hear that?”

  From somewhere in the distance, the faint but unmistakable sound of a helicopter came thudding out of the night.

  “What did I tell you?” The president sounded both relieved and excited. “They’re here to rescue me already.”

  He turned around and leaned back to search the sky, but didn’t have to look hard because, from the west, a helicopter was moving quickly over the forest, engines thumping. From beneath, a piercing white beam cut through the darkness and rain, illuminating the wilderness below.

  “Over here!” The president ran to a gap in the trees and began waving his arms like a madman. “Here! Help!”

  The helicopter was already moving slowly along the burning scar, descending so that it was almost touching the tops of the trees. It was only a matter of time before it spotted us, but I wasn’t so sure this helicopter was coming to rescue the president. This might be the one I had seen earlier, but this time piloted by Hazar instead of Patu. When I first saw the pod, I had wondered how long it would be before he came to find what he had shot down. Not long, seemed to be the answer.

  “Over here!” the president shouted again.

  It would reach us in seconds. The noise was growing louder and louder. The treetops were swirling under its downdraught. And then it was so close it was deafening and the dry brown needles and fallen leaves were whipped up off the forest floor to swirl about in a hurricane with the embers and smoke from the fires. Grit battered my face and peppered my eyes. I shut them and turned away, trying to wipe them clean.

  When I looked back, the president’s jacket was flapping in the wind, the searchlight was moving closer, and clear as day, I could see the words emblazoned across the side of the helicopter.

  Safari Tours.

  I stood in the middle of the hurricane as if my body didn’t want to move.

  The world swirled around me and an image of Patu flashed into my head. I saw him running in slow motion, I saw Hazar lifting the rifle. I saw the tree explode in a shower of splinters and Patu’s body thrown away, shot and murdered.

  “No!” I shouted. “No! It’s him!” I ran to the president, grabbed the back of his jacket and pulled, trying to drag him toward the trees.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he yelled, snatching his jacket from my grasp.

  “No!” I shouted again over the sound of the approaching helicopter. “It’s someone else, someone called Hazar. Please. You have to believe me. He’s a killer.”

  “A killer?” The president looked at me in confusion.

  The helicopter was almost on us now. The light was flicking across the treetops, sweeping from side to side, and would soon be pointing right down at us. I kept seeing Hazar’s gun and thinking that it was going to be pointing at us, trapped in that circle of white light.

  “Please!” I said. “Get into the trees! Please!”

  The president glanced up at the helicopter, then back at me. He must have seen something in my face because he nodded. “All right, kid. Go.”

  We turned and ran, just as the beam passed close to the place where we had been standing. We hurried to the thickest trees, and threw ourselves down into the undergrowth.

  The president landed with a heavy thump as the beam flicked over us. The piercing light swept around, then quickly twitched back and focused on the metallic pod. The bright white light reflected from the shiny metal and lit up the forest. The dark shadows of tree trunks spiked out at all angles, so that now it really did look as if a UFO had landed. The air was a dust storm of clutter as the helicopter hovered right above the pod.

  All around us, the ferns and saplings flowed and flickered in the current. The noise was deafening.

  Beside me, the president started to get up, so I put a hand on his back and shook my head at him. “Just wait,” I shouted. “Let’s see who it is.”

  The president hesitated
, still unsure.

  “It’s better to be safe,” I told him. “Just watch. Please.”

  He nodded and settled back into the ferns.

  For a few seconds nothing happened, then the door slid open on the side of the helicopter and two ropes dropped down into the clearing, where they coiled like snakes. Four men, the ones I had seen earlier that evening, leaped from the helicopter and slipped down the ropes, two at a time. When they reached the ground, they unclipped and fanned out in different directions, crouching and aiming their submachine guns into the forest at different angles.

  The president looked confused. These men were heavily armed and looked like soldiers, but I guessed he wasn’t expecting his Navy SEALs to rappel down from a Safari Tours helicopter. He watched, openmouthed, as two more men zipped down the ropes, landed and unclipped.

  I recognized Hazar right away. He had his oversize rifle slung over his back and his black hair was shining in the light. He looked around, then raised a gloved hand to the pilot. In response, the ropes sucked back up into the helicopter, the doors slid shut, and the machine turned in the air. It climbed high above the trees, then dipped its nose and flew away across the forest. The whole thing had taken no more than a minute.

  When the helicopter was gone, there was a total emptiness left in its wake. Everything was completely still and dark, and I didn’t dare move in case someone heard us.

  My eyes didn’t need time to adjust to the darkness, though, because the men in the clearing were already emptying their backpacks and erecting tripods, topped with lights, which they aimed at the escape pod. I glanced at the president. He looked as if he didn’t have a clue what was happening.

  Close by, Hazar stood very still and scanned the area once more before looking at the man who had rappelled alongside him. The man responded by taking a strange-looking weapon from his back. He fiddled with it for a moment, then opened it up. I realized then that it was not a weapon but an umbrella, which he held over Hazar’s head.

  Hazar stayed where he was, watching his men fixing the lights and setting up what appeared to be a camera.

  “What’s going on?” the president whispered.

  I nudged him and put a finger to my lips, shaking my head. Noise carried well in the forest at night, and we couldn’t risk these men hearing us.