Brain Stealers

by Rodman Philbrick

  Again we struggled to our feet and pointed ourselves downhill. We’d only taken one step when two bolts of lightning struck simultaneously, gouging the ground under my feet and Jessie’s feet.

  We jumped backward as sparkly rocks blasted into the air. Another bolt quickly followed, chasing us back against the hill.

  Thunder crashed so loud we couldn’t speak. Whenever we stopped, lightning struck behind us and we jumped forward again.

  The lightning was forcing us along the side of the hill. My nerves jangled as heat seared my toes. The deafening crack of the lightning clashed with the boom of thunder, scrambling my wits.

  We couldn’t think, couldn’t hear, couldn’t speak. All we could do was keep moving, dancing inches in front of the lightning.

  Suddenly Jessie pounded my arm and pointed frantically. I looked. There against the hill was what looked like a cave.

  Safety! Hope clutched at my heart. My stomach constricted. We eyed each other and all at once broke into a run, keeping step so we didn’t drop the crate, our only shield.

  The lightning seemed to double in intensity, striking sparks off our heels. More rocks blasted up from the ground, pelting us with sparkles.

  I kept my eyes on the cave opening, hoping it was deep enough for us to escape the lightning.

  Wind buffeted us sideways and I stumbled. I threw out my arm to keep myself from hitting the ground. A bolt of lightning struck like a knife between two of my fingers.

  I leaped to my feet and my heart took off like a machine gun.

  We were almost there. The cave yawned dark and welcoming. I hardly dared to think we’d really make it and then all of a sudden we were inside!

  Lightning struck furiously all across the entrance. But it was powerless to reach us.

  We set down the crate and sprawled on the ground, struggling to catch our breath.

  After a while my heart settled into a terrified pounding I now thought of as normal. I sat up and looked around.

  Lightning flashed so I got a good look.

  “Wow,” groaned Jessie, staring at the back of the cave with dread. “Out of the fire and into real trouble.”

  35

  Outside the cave, the turbulent wind had died down. The eerie glow had faded but an occasional lightning bolt still struck in front of the entrance as if to remind us we wouldn’t be going anywhere.

  “They’ve got us right where they want us,” complained Frasier.

  The wide opening of the cave narrowed into a tunnel which burrowed into the hillside, back toward the mothership. In the lightning flashes we could make out the smooth swirls of alien melted rock.

  We fell silent, too exhausted to figure out what to do next. After a few minutes I got up and peeked into the crate. The little alien blob was bubbling again and seemed to be pulsing normally. It gave off a rosy light.

  Frasier scowled at me. “Before, when my zombie parents snatched me,” he said, “you said you were going to mash that blob into the wood but you didn’t. How come?” he asked accusingly.

  Jessie sighed. “It wouldn’t have done any good, Frasier. We agreed on that.”

  “Yes, but Nick didn’t know that at that moment, did you?”

  I shrugged uncomfortably. “I couldn’t,” I told him. “I think it’s a little one.”

  “That’s pretty obvious,” said Frasier. “Since the other ones are big enough to bulldoze mountains.”

  “I mean little, like a child,” I said. “Alien junior.”

  They both looked at me openmouthed. “Just because it’s small—” Jessie began.

  I interrupted her. “It communicated with me,” I said. “By pictures. But the proportions were wrong. The pictures reminded me of something a first-grader might do. Plus it seemed curious. And kind of friendly. Like it trusted me.”

  Frasier sat up, instantly alert. “Pictures? So that’s how you know there’s something wrong with the spaceship?”

  “Right. First it showed the spaceship gliding through space,” I explained. “Then it focused in on the back end and showed puffs of smoke coming out—as if a spaceship would puff smoke, right? Then it showed the puffs stopping and the ship falling out of the sky and crashing into earth.”

  Frasier looked thoughtful. “Let’s eat,” he said. “And think about this.”

  He pulled an MRE out of his pocket. Jessie and I did the same. They were pretty mangled and squished but my mouth began to water anyway. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten.

  I stuck a mouthful of something that looked like dried hairball into my mouth. It tasted like wet fur.

  We chewed in silence for a while. Then Jessie got to her knees and peered into the crate. I scooted beside her. The blob bubbled and sprouted a small tentacle.

  It kind of waved at us and angled toward the slat opening. But an inch away it recoiled and the whole tentacle snapped back inside the blob. The blob pulsed faster, like it was agitated.

  “Did it stick one of those tentacles in your ear to communicate?” asked Jessie.

  “Not really,” I said evasively. “I don’t particularly want to talk about it.”

  Frasier snapped his fingers. “The ship ran out of fuel!” he exclaimed. “That has to be it. Otherwise the creature would have shown the engines, not puffs of smoke.”

  “Maybe it doesn’t know what the engines look like,” said Jessie.

  Frasier shook his head. “The big ones must have been running—or tentacling—around frantically and gabbling about what was wrong. If it was the engines they would have been working on them and that’s what your blob would have shown.” He looked pleased with himself.

  “I thought the same thing,” I told him. “But how does it help? We don’t know what they use for fuel. Or even if earth has any of whatever it is.”

  “Maybe they use human brains for fuel,” said Jessie. “And all they need is a few more.”

  Before any of us could think of a reason why that probably wasn’t true, a bolt of lightning struck the hillside over our cave. The jagged bolt punched a hole in the ceiling and chunks of rock rained down.

  We scrambled to our feet, dropping the remains of our MREs.

  “I think they’ve decided we had enough rest,” I said.

  We looked into the darkness of the alien tunnel. I’d lost my flashlight somewhere but Jessie and Frasier still had theirs. They clicked them on.

  Frasier checked his compass and consulted a scrap of paper from his pocket. “I think I can get us to the kids from here,” he said.

  Then he looked at the crate. “It’s a real drag lugging that thing around,” he said, looking at me speculatively. “Couldn’t you—?”

  I shuddered. “No way. Besides it might escape. I think it only glommed on to me before because the communicating exhausted it.”

  “And we need the wood,” said Jessie, gripping one end of the crate. “It’s our only defense.”

  We started into the tunnel, feeling its silence like a weight.

  36

  “This is creepy,” said Jessie. “I feel as if we’re being watched.”

  We kept looking over our shoulders and shining the flashlights into shadows on the walls. But nothing leaped out at us. Nothing moved.

  But we couldn’t shake the feeling of unfriendly eyes boring into our backs.

  Suddenly a large dark shape loomed out of the wall. With a frightened shout, Frasier and Jessie both whipped their flashlight beams at it.

  The flashlight beams kept going, swallowed up by the black shape. I gasped in horror but Jessie let go of the crate and started forward, right at the thing! A second later, she disappeared.

  “Jessie!” I cried.

  Then her voice bounced back to us. “It’s another tunnel,” she called. “Which way should we go?”

  The air seemed to stir as if agitated. “Come back, Jessie,” I called out, flutters stirring in my stomach. “We’ve got to stay together. Near the crate.”

  “Oops, you’re right,” she said. Her
running footsteps echoed loudly in the empty tunnel. I held my breath until she was back with us.

  Frasier consulted his compass and his scrap of paper again. “The cavern with our friends is this way,” he said, pointing into the new tunnel. “It shouldn’t be far.”

  We picked up the crate and started into the new tunnel. It was narrower and seemed even darker than the other one. But I pushed aside my uneasiness by thinking about our friends. I even imagined I was hearing their voices.

  “Listen,” said Jessie, with a catch of excitement. “Is that—”

  REEEEE-REEEEEEEE-REEEEEEEE!

  We fell to our knees, clapping our hands over our ears. The flashlights fell to the ground and rolled.

  The alien noise racketed off the walls, bombarding us. It was so piercing I cringed, expecting the walls to shatter and bury us. Suddenly the air compressed, squeezing us as if a train was hurtling through the tunnel right at us.

  Jessie snatched up her flashlight and pointed it down the tunnel. She screamed, although the sound was immediately swallowed by the increasing alien shrieks.

  REEEEEEEEEE-REEEEEEE-REEEEEEEEEEEE!

  Jessie jumped to her feet and tugged at my arm. She was mouthing something but I couldn’t hear what it was. The air rushed past me, thick and turbulent. My head was spinning. Again Jessie pointed urgently with her flashlight.

  I felt my heart stop. A bulging black cloud was rushing toward us, and then I saw the tentacles erupting from it. They slashed the air as they stretched toward us like strings of drool with muscles.

  Frasier was still hunched over on the floor with his arms covering his head. Jessie and I grabbed him and pointed. Somehow we remembered to snatch up the crate as we fled back the way we’d come.

  We reached the junction of the two tunnels and automatically turned toward the cave. But we’d only taken a step or two when the shrieks got louder.

  REEEEE-REEEEEEEEE-REEEEEE!

  Now they were coming from two directions. In the dimming flashlight beams we saw another dark blob bearing down on us from the cave end of the tunnel.

  We had no choice. We had to go deeper into the hill. Reversing direction we ran again, wondering if the two blobs would come together at the tunnel junction, squishing us between them.

  My head thumped with noise and fear. As we approached the other tunnel opening, Frasier’s light beam caught on a tentacle snaking across the floor. There was no time to stop.

  Without thinking, all three of us soared into the air. We came down running. Somehow the tentacle had missed us.

  Then the tunnel in front of us began to glow. My heart crashed. It was obvious the aliens had a plan and we were racing full tilt right into it. But what choice did we have?

  I glanced back over my shoulder just in time to see the blobs from the two tunnels collide. A puff of gas belched up between them. Then they melted together, bubbling over at the seams, goo spattering the walls.

  My feet felt a little lighter as I realized we were gaining on them as they reeled from the impact. But when I glanced back a second later, the blob was rolling after us again.

  Only this time it was twice as big and had twice as many tentacles, with more sprouting and pushing it along every instant.

  A sudden noise snapped my head back around.

  CRRR—ACK!

  Jessie swung her flashlight at the sound. “AAAH!” She screamed and dropped the flashlight. It rolled and I heard a tentacle suck it up like candy.

  But I didn’t need any more light to see the crack in the tunnel wall. Or the black ooze that was pushing out of it.

  CR—AACK

  CRAAA—CK!

  37

  My eyes twitched to the right and left but I couldn’t move my head fast enough to keep up with the pattern of cracks fissuring the walls around us.

  CRR—ACK! CRACK! CRA—CK!

  Black goo wriggled, gushed, and streamed out of every crack, trickling down the walls or forming huge bubbles which popped over our heads like bubblegum, spattering us with slime.

  Globs of the stuff fell, then sprouted tentacles and pushed up off the tunnel floor to head after us. Terror seemed to give our feet wings. All we could do was keep running.

  But none of us lost our grip on the crate. Yippy squealing noises were coming out of it. We could hear them because the blobs had gone silent. They seemed to be saving their energy for chasing us.

  I was afraid to look back and afraid not to. Finally I couldn’t stand it anymore. I looked and immediately wished I hadn’t.

  The tunnel was filled floor to ceiling with huge lumpy blobs. More cracks were opening every second, pouring gobs of mucky goo down onto the blob.

  Tentacles swarmed ahead of the blobs. Even as I watched, one of the tentacles shot up into the air and stretched, falling almost close enough to nip at our heels.

  “Faster,” I screeched, my throat feeling like sandpaper.

  My lungs were burning and my legs felt rubbery. I knew Frasier and Jessie must be feeling the same. I could hear their harsh breathing whistling through their lungs. But somehow we ran even faster.

  How long can this tunnel go on? I wondered in desperation. Even as the thought passed through my mind the tunnel widened. And then all of a sudden we were in a place we knew.

  The tunnel opened into a huge space where stone stalactites melted into strange metal formations, like struts in an airplane hangar.

  This was the place we’d stumbled onto the first time we explored the alien tunnels. Only it was different now. The struts were straighter, not so crumpled looking. And the metal and stone ran in separate veins, side by side.

  I realized the aliens must have repaired the damage the crash had done.

  I glanced back. The blobs were closer. Tentacles writhed in excitement and the black blobs bumped and rolled over one another in their eagerness to get us.

  We had to keep going. But from here there was only one place to go.

  Sick fear stirred in my stomach as we approached the sheer wall at the end of the stalacite-strut area.

  I knew from before that there was a small opening at the bottom of the wall. And behind the wall was nothing but a bubbling pool of thick, syrupy, glowing liquid filled with things we couldn’t see.

  We were going so fast we ran into the wall before we could stop ourselves.

  Frasier dropped to the floor and began scrambling through the narrow opening in the wall.

  “Wait!” rasped Jessie, grabbing his shirt.

  Frasier shot a wild-eyed look over his shoulder. “They’re coming,” he gasped hoarsely. “We have to.”

  The aliens were boiling over one another, gushing along the floor, spitting out tentacles. In another minute they’d catch us.

  The sight filled me with such horror all my insides seemed to stick together in a knotted mass. I dropped to the floor. “Quick, go!” I urged. “I’ll push the crate in to you. Put it between you and the pool.”

  A ripple of fear washed over Jessie’s face. She dove after Frasier. I heard a tentacle slap behind me. In my hurry, I got the crate jammed in the narrow opening.

  It wouldn’t move. I could hear the slurping, sucking sounds the blobs made rushing across the floor. Jessie and Frasier wiggled the crate desperately but it didn’t budge. I moaned.

  A slithering noise drilled into my brain. I shoved at the crate.

  Then I felt the slimy cold touch of a tentacle snapping around my ankle.

  38

  “YAAAAAAAAAAA!” I shrieked. Icy terror surged into my muscles. I rammed my shoulder against the crate and it yielded with a splintering sound.

  The tentacle tightened around my ankle. I hurled myself through the opening, feeling my leg stretch like a rubber band. I kicked out, slamming the slimy tentacle against the rock wall.

  It let go with a squishy sucking sound and I fell through the opening. I slid, unable to stop myself. The pool was there, rippling quietly.

  I was headed straight for it.

  With horror I
felt myself go over the edge. My fingers scrabbled for a hold but the rock ledge was too wet and smooth.

  Frasier shouted and hands grabbed me. I gasped like a fish, my nose an inch from the scummy surface. Frasier and Jessie hauled me back onto the ledge overlooking the pool. I was shaking so hard they had trouble holding on to me.

  The ledge was just wide enough for us to scrunch against the wall with the crate in front of us, between us and the pool. The little blob inside began to make its little noises again.

  “Weeeee-weeeee.”

  The surface of the pool began to agitate ominously. The gentle ripples became waves and slapped against the rock sides of the pool.

  Shapes began to stir in the glowing depths.

  I stared at the pool, my stomach sloshing. “I don’t think we have much time,” I said, feeling my mouth go dry. “We have to find out what the mothership uses for fuel. It’s our only chance.”

  “Sure,” said Jessie, scraping hair out of her eyes. “But how are we going to find out?”

  “There’s only one way,” I said, shuddering. “I just wish I was sure it would work. I’ll have to communicate with the alien baby again.”

  Jessie sucked in her breath.

  “How?” asked Frasier.

  A wave of revulsion swept over me as I pictured it. I slid around toward the narrow end of the crate and slid open the panel. “I have to let it ooze over my head,” I said.

  There was a shocked silence. I lay down on the ledge and began to slide my head into the crate. At the first clammy touch of the alien, shudders spasmed through me. My stomach heaved up in my throat.

  I swallowed, hard. Then suddenly I was engulfed in warmth. I was sinking into ooze. It covered me like the softest, warmest blanket. It lapped over my eyes, welled up into my nose and spilled down my throat, filling my stomach like sweet pudding.

  My muscles relaxed as I sank deeper, deeper. I felt wonderful. I couldn’t imagine any reason to ever surface again.

  39

  My mind blinked. Panic charged through me, jerking my arms and legs. I was smothering! Drowning!

  The alien was taking me over!