The small figure, no more than four feet tall, began walking toward the truck. Its baggy clothes gave it the impression of a human from a distance, but up close the figure appeared to be thin, almost anorexic. Steel nerves became iron and Roy’s hand was almost shaky as he instinctively reached for the middle console where his permitted firearm rested.
The small figure was now beside Roy’s door. He avoided its reflector-like eyes but stared down at a scaly face that he could still barely see. Roy decided to try and deal with this as he did nearly every other inconvenience.
“What the hell do you want?”
The figure didn’t respond. It lifted its long index finger skyward and Roy followed it. Nothing. When Roy brought his glare back down the figure was now closer to the truck. If Roy opened the door it would smash into the little reptilian face. The figure now opened its palm and stood still; whether it was a signal of peace or a threat of violence Roy hadn’t the slightest clue. He felt his eyes getting droopy … heavy …
A loud shriek from Muff—mreeeaw!—instantly brought Roy back to earth. His attention turned to the passenger side. The second figure had either jumped or climbed into the passenger side window and was being clawed at by the hissing cat.
Roy turned back to his left as he felt a slimy hand rub against his arm. The first figure was trying to climb in his window. Roy’s instinct, in the form of a tight fist slamming into the figure’s face, took over. The attacker dropped down from the window. When Roy turned his focus back to Muff and the second figure he saw that his cat had been struck. Muff laid on the floor in front of the passenger seat. Roy’s mouth dropped open. The second figure was momentarily out of his sight, but came back in as it hefted the wooden box through the window and clambered outside the window after it.
Roy acted. His fury was brought about both by the fact that these little bastards were trying to steal his six-thousand-dollar box, and that they had harmed his cat in the process. Roy looked out his window and saw the first figure just getting back to its feet. Roy smiled to himself, pulled the handle of the door, and kicked out with all his force. The thunk that resulted was very satisfying. Roy grabbed his gun and got out of the car. The figure on the ground was groaning and wheezing. Roy kicked it with all his might, actually lifting the figure off the ground, and sending it to the edge of the road. The figure’s hat had left its head and settled down at Roy’s feet.
Roy took off after the second figure, which had sprinted into the open field off the side of the highway. He felt no fear as he ran, just adrenaline. Roy had one main purpose: get the box back and get the hell out of there. If he could punt the little bastard like he did the other, he’d take that opportunity.
Thirty yards into the field—his twenty-year pack-a-day lungs already aching—Roy was gaining ground on the figure. He could see the little thing in the pink dawn, could see its baggy clothes flailing in the wind. Roy wasn’t a particularly fast runner, but he had the advantage of human legs that were at least three times longer than the thief’s. Roy fired a shot that he knew would miss before the bullet left the barrel. He was hoping the little bastard would be startled by the shot, maybe even trip and fall.
Roy was on the figure’s heels a minute later, his mind thinking how ridiculous this all seemed, him a forty-seven year old man chasing an … alien? … through a field for a box containing God-knows-what that some robot gave him to transport. Roy was close enough now that he kicked out his leg as hard as he could and tripped the thieving bastard. The figure went down, the box flying a few a feet in front of it. But what caught Roy’s attention was the groan that came from the fallen runner. It sounded like a strange mixture of a dog’s yelp and its growl.
Roy decided that he would take no more chances with this little guy then he would with a low tank of gas. He tucked the gun in his waist. The offense did well, but it was time for the field goal team to take the field. Roy kicked with his burning right leg as hard as he could, and the grunt that came from the little bastard as he raised in the air sounded better to him than Beethoven to a fan of classical music. Surely Roy had booted hard enough to break bones, but his foot had only felt a squishy substance, as if he’d kicked something made of jelly.
Roy grabbed the box and walked back to his truck. He was breathing rapidly. The only thing on his mind was to get as far away as fast as possible. After a few miles he’d pull over and check on his beloved Muff.
Despite the cramping in his legs and the burning in his lungs Roy forced himself to jog back to the truck. The first figure was no longer huddled in a ball on the side of the road. Roy turned to get into his truck and saw that the thing was standing on the passenger seat, its silvery eyes staring at him with what he was certain was contempt. Muff meowed, though Roy didn’t feel any relief, only a chill running down his back. The alien was stroking his cat’s back. Muff was laying in front of the tiny figure, oblivious to its no doubt murderous intent. The alien lifted a finger and pointed at the box in Roy’s hand. Not a chance, slimy, Roy thought. I’ve went through hell and back to get this far.
Roy dropped the box on the driver’s seat and put his hands up as if to surrender. The alien stepped over Muff slowly. About to take another step, the thing stopped when the middle console began vibrating. It cocked its head to the side like a curious dog. The phone vibrated again. The alien bent down to retrieve whatever was causing that sound. With its attention temporarily disrupted, Roy took his opportunity. With cat-like movements that would have made Muff proud, Roy reached his long arms into the cab of the truck and grabbed the little bastard by its scaly wrists. The sounds that came from within the alien were horrifying, something that even the most talented impressionist could never mimic. Roy pulled the little bastard out the window and began to spin in circles. The figure was helpless, its body parallel to the ground five feet below it. Roy turned a couple more times, moving toward the side of the road. After one final spin, Roy released the alien’s wrists and watched as it flew some twenty feet into the field, emitting a high-pitched whine until it clunked against the ground.
Roy opened his door, pushed the box over as far as it would go, and hopped back into the driver seat. Through the ordeal the keys had never left the ignition. Roy glanced quickly at Muff, but a moving figure in the distance caught his attention. Little bastard number two was pumping its legs for all they were worth.
“You okay, Muff?” The cat was watching the approaching figure as well. The hairs on her back were standing up, but she was standing as well. “Thank God, Muff.”
The second figure was fifteen feet away now. Roy thought about shooting at it but wasn’t prepared to miss and possibly endure another chase. He settled for throwing the truck in drive, peeling his wheels, and giving the little bastard the most gratifying middle finger of his life.
In the rear view the figure was standing in the road and staring at the truck. The other alien was still out of sight. Roy honked his horn and stuck his head out the window “How’s that defeat taste? You little asshole!”
In the passenger seat Muff meowed.
“We showed them, Muff!”
Roy pressed the gas pedal and watched as the speedometer’s needle rose to seventy-five. The rear view showed nothing now, and Roy finally felt safe enough to fire up a cigarette. He focused on the empty road ahead.
Of course Roy couldn’t help running the entire incident over and over in his head. On the second go-around he remembered the vibrating of his cell phone that helped his victory. He grabbed the phone from the middle console. Six missed calls, all from unavailable. The phone began buzzing in his hand.
“Mr. Barger?”
“What!”
“Our tracker showed a stoppage that lasted several minutes. Is everything okay, Mr. Bar–”
“I have questions of my own,” Roy said. “Like why was I just attacked? And what the hell just attacked me?”
“Mr. Barger, please–”
“Shut up.” Roy took a deep breath. Six grand, only a fe
w hours away. “If that happens again I’m letting the little bastards take the goddamn box and I’m going straight home.”
“Please, Mr. Barger, we apologize for your troubles. We will raise your payment to seven thousand, Mr. Barger. Just please do not abandon the package, Mr. Barger.” Was that fear he heard?
Roy huffed as if he would continue against his will. In reality, Roy knew what he was doing as soon as he hung up. “Seventy-five hundred, or the next dumpster I see will be one box heavier.”
“Please don’t say that Mr. Barger. Seventy-five hundred is fair, considering the aggravation deposited upon yourself, Mr. Barger.”
“Don’t call me again, I’ll be there when I’m able—as long as none of your friends pay me a visit, that is. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“Mr. Barger–”
Roy shut the cell phone. He looked at his cat on the passenger seat. “We’re looking inside, Muff,” he said, speaking as if the cat was judging him. Not tampering with a customer’s load was the cardinal rule in shipping. It was worse than a pizza delivery boy who hadn’t washed his hands deciding he could go for a snack and fingering through someone’s fresh food. But, after picking up a strange package in the middle of the night, learning that it was being tracked, being attacked by two things that, if they were from earth no one had ever set eyes upon, his resolve was finally shot. The tension he heard in the voice after threatening to not deliver the box topped it off. “I’m not driving another mile with this thing unless I know what hell’s in it.”
Roy put his four-ways on and pulled to the side of the road. The first car he’d seen in some time flew by in the left lane. Getting out of the truck, he looked behind him and saw nothing expect empty road. Roy retrieved the box from the backseat on placed it on the driver seat. The locks could be handled easily; Roy always carried a plethora of tools, everything from a wrench to a standard screwdriver. A bolt cutter stood in the back corner of his trailer, thanks to another lesson learned early in his career.
Roy retrieved the bolt cutter and was about to make the first snip when his cell phone buzzed again. The caller was unavailable. Roy threw the phone down and snapped the locks without hesitation. “All right, Muff, here goes nothing.”
Roy eased the box open. A cold, misty smoke emanated from the partially-opened lid. Before he could change his mind Roy flipped the top open. The stream of smoke came out in cloudy puffs. “Dry ice?” Roy asked no one in particular. Because of the thick white mist what was in the box was still unknown.
A minute later the smoke had cleared and Roy stared open-mouthed at what he saw. He’d never seen one except in pictures. But, undoubtedly, what Roy was staring at was a human heart. Obviously the heart had been extracted from its owner recently; its reddish color was still ripe with blood. And in this box the heart still breathed, still contracted.
Roy felt a wave of nausea pass over him. His thoughts went against his will to the fact that inside of him was one of these ugly organs. The smoke had thinned out but the box was still cool.
Roy’s phone buzzed again, thankfully so this time, as it snapped him out of the horrible daze in which he’d been stuck.
Roy replaced the box’s lid and drove on. What did these people—were they even people?—need a human heart for? And why had two of E.T.’s cousins viciously attacked him for possession of it? All of the questions that Roy normally couldn’t give a shit about plagued him. He drove on in silence, remained still, and didn’t even light up a cigarette until thirty minutes later, when other cars began to appear on the highway and the world seemed a bit more itself.
12:29 P.M.
Drop Off Location
Roy arrived at his destination later than he’d wanted to because he’d taken the time to stop and replace everything just as he’d found it, which required a detour to the nearest home improvement store. Roy had brought in the two locks he’d broken and, luckily, found the exact same ones.
Then he’d asked a few of the employees where he could find some dry ice. He ignored the slightly odd stares he received and found out that a super market two miles down the road carried it. He purchased a few pellets, placed them on the warm concrete in the parking lot (hoping to mimic how much it might have melted by now), loaded them into the box, locked it up, and drove as fast as was possible to the destination. During his detour, he had missed five more calls.
His stomach felt sour as he drove to the front of the windowless brick building. Even a driver of Roy’s caliber wouldn’t have found this place. His GPS, always trustworthy, had failed to give him any direction for the last couple of minutes. Finding the building wasn’t much of a problem once the known roads had been passed, though, thanks to one long dirt road turning off into another. There was nothing surrounding the building except dirt. To Roy it felt almost like being in the middle of the desert, minus a cactus and mirage.
There were no lines indicating a parking spot so Roy simply stopped in front of the building, just off to the left of where the big wooden double doors were closed. Roy left the engine on and waited.
Not a minute after the doors swung open, the white light that poured from inside seemed blinding initially, though his eyes got used it.
“Oh wonderful,” Roy muttered. “Another robot.” At least these fools were consistent.
The robot wheeled up to the driver-side window. “Welcome Mr. Barger.”
“Save it. Where’s my money?”
The large silver machine extended a mechanical hand. “Your promised payment, Mr. Barger.”
All of Roy’s trepidation left him momentarily as his right hand grasped the envelope. Roy could tell by thickness that all of the money was inside. Attacks, mysterious phone calls, an absurd amount of annoyance: it all seemed worth it now. Roy whistled as he flipped the envelope’s lip and thumbed through the stack of hundred-dollar bills. “Thanks.”
“You’re most welcome, Mr. Barger.”
“Now let’s get this thing out of my truck.”
“Certainly, Mr. Barger.”
Roy hopped out and grabbed the wooden box from the backseat.
“There is a table right inside the doors, Mr. Barger. Please lay the box on top and you may take your leave, Mr. Barger.”
Roy suddenly felt nervous.. He could see nothing past the bright lights within the building. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was to go inside this place. But he was honestly more scared not to go in. Seventy-five hundred bucks in cash, Roy thought. I guess I could strain myself for a few more seconds.
As he walked across the threshold into the brilliant light he saw the table. It was a plain wooden table, a solid rectangle, but for some reason the first thing that popped into Roy’s mind was sacrificial altar.
As soon as the box left his hands something gripped Roy’s arms. One man on each side trapped Roy’s arm at the elbow and held it tightly in their armpit. Wearing a short-sleeve shirt, Roy could feel the skin of these two was slightly moisturized. Because of the blinding light he could not identify his captors.
“Get off of–”
An elbow hit the base of Roy’s neck from behind and he felt his knees buckle. But he went on struggling until a figure appeared ahead of him. Behind the figure several others were doing something on the table.
The man who held Roy’s left arm spoke. “Go ahead, Jillie, check the package. You’ll see that I’m right.”
Roy started to protest but the figure in front of him placed a slimy hand on his cheeks and squeezed. “Did you tamper with my shipment, Mr. Barger?”
“I never touched it!”
“He’s lying!” said the man on his left.
“Mr. Barger, I’m afraid I must believe my beloved son,” the one called Jillie said.
Roy panicked. He realized the only thing that might save him was the truth. The cheek-squeezing reminded him of his mother. His punishment has always been less severe when he’d been truthful. Roy spilled it.
“But I did everything the same. Same exact loc
ks, I bought dry ice to replace anything that might have melted. I mean, Jesus, I was attacked by two little bastard things, not to mention you called me how many times to check on your precious shipment? I couldn’t take it anymore!”
The female figure spoke to someone out of Roy’s frame of vision. “Dim the lights, Curtsy.”
Roy stared first in awe, then in terror, at the figure before him. The two little bastards who’d ambushed him seemed normal in comparison. The skin seemed … leaf-like. The lips were red and the eyes were blue, but the rest of the body was a lime-green color. The figure had four arms and its face was positively round, similar to a head of lettuce if its entire soccer-ball shape was perfectly smooth. But Roy didn’t understand true terror until the tongue came out. Oh God, the tongue. It was long as black and thick and Roy was certain the figure could have dropped its tongue to the floor. Aside from that, the body was damn-near human-like.
“You should not have opened the package Mr. Barger.”
Forget steel, forget aluminum, currently his nerves made butter looked solid.
“I’m sorry! I’ll refund your money, just–”
“Be quiet, Mr. Barger.”
Roy did as he was asked. His fear was so powerful that he didn’t bother with another struggle.
The female figure turned away from Roy and joined the others at the table. Each of them looked much alike, save for different heights and proportions. Roy heard them discussing something but couldn’t make out their words. He heard the snap of the locks; he couldn’t be certain but he thought that the female figure had snapped it with her hand.
The figure in charge turned to Roy’s captors and ordered them to bring the man forward. Because it would have been useless to fight, Roy walked with them.
On the table in front of him squatted the open box, and next to it, a figure much smaller than the rest in the room.
As if reading his mind, Jillie said, “My grandson.” She sighed impatiently. “He hangs on the edge of life, Mr. Barger, closer and closer to plummeting into death every minute.”
Dark Horizons Page 26
