Introduction to:
Species Intervention #6609 Book 7
When Aliens Weep,
Coming Soon
Synopsis
As our survivors recover from the effects of travelling through the portal to Oolaha and the shock of losing their loved ones and planet Earth, the Kreyven closes the pathway and quickly scurries over to another portal to disappear. To where? A new task for the Womb? Or have other survivors become lost on another pathway?
Meet I-V, the minion navigator who will become entranced with Bonnie as she mourns the heart-rending loss of her Peter.
What will the reaction be of the population of Oolaha to the introduction of humans into their life-creating culture? Does the Womb have plans of its own for the survivors?
Will Jose’s slow realization that his relationship with Abby is waning as she quietly turns to Cobby and awaits the birth of their baby wreak havoc with the peace on Oolaha?
As Kenya finally has everything she has ever wanted: a good man and a healthy baby, she is forced to assess who she really is and where she fits in the rhythm of the new world.
Bonus Chapters 1-3
Earth—Eleven Hours before the End
Chapter 1
Seth lay prostrate in the dust of the red earth, snot from his exhausted crying jag dried on his face and congealed in the dirt.
It had been hours since the golden creatures and their flying entourage had left with the infernal dog. He’d miserably failed to recover from the shock of his glorious crumbled dreams and fallen asleep while the detritus of his fallen comrades mocked him with the unexplainable evidence of their rag-festooned skeletons.
The clicking sound of a beast slowly awakened him; a foreign noise that penetrated his consciousness, a dark awareness blossoming like a macabre pustule, throbbing and ready to burst its bacterial poisons.
Pain radiated from his clawed hand that lay jammed uncomfortably under his body, screaming for release. Slow to open his gummy eyes, he felt the hot breath of an ursine beast at his neck, forcing him to freeze as it investigated the stench that clung to him; the myriad of odors enticing to the bear, even as the siren call of the Hive tugged at it like a magnet.
The bear clawed once, turning Seth over and forcing him to look straight into the curious face, its breath smelling of berries and grubs. Finding the pull of the Hive irresistible, the bear chuffed in his face then wandered off down the road, leaving Seth to his ignoble fate.
And what a miserable fate that was. He curled into a fetal position, unwilling to lay eyes on what was left of his lover and his men. Their fatal images had been burned indelibly in his mind as they’d taken their last breaths and collapsed in the dirt, the miniscule black and red projectiles returning to the split antlers of the evil and vicious creature known as Echo. Has that creature enslaved the Others with its diabolical power? he wondered.
Tired of self-pity and with no appreciative audience, Seth began to take stock. The effort expended to force himself into a sitting position wore him down. No matter how hard he tried, his strength ebbed from the emotional distress his efforts were causing. Try as he might, he continued to flounder, unable to invent a plausible way to spin this hideous outcome to his grandiose plans.
The last thing he wanted was to become a laughing stock instead of the conquering hero he’d originally intended. Pathetically, the realization was just sinking in that the only thing conquered was him and his band of misfits and toadies.
He’d been made to look like a fool by two oversized flying cats . . . no, deer . . . no . . . well, whatever the fuck they are . . .
The next time I see those abominations, I’ll show them just who they’re toying with. If they hadn’t caught me off guard . . .
Seth wiped the traces of his blubbering off his face with the ragged end of his sleeve. He scrambled to his feet and listened for sounds, the pre-dawn wrapping him in its silent awaiting. The absence of further rustlings from the edge of the road told him it must be safe to start his journey back to the tribe’s settlement. Alone . . .
Every time he remembered he was on his own, depression returned. How would he explain the loss of his men? He remembered the confused reaction of the tribe as he and his men returned victoriously from the first meeting with the Others, waving Lorna’s severed hand and declaring himself the new leader. The quiet covert whispers and tight faces of the women had not escaped his notice. Who knows what havoc the nasties were working on behind my back while I bravely set out to negotiate with the Others? I did all this for them, the ungrateful bitches.
Hitching up his pants, Seth stretched, his aching limbs testifying to the many hours he’d lain sleeping on the ground. Turning his back on what was left of his men, he began the long hike back to the settlement, watching as the moon began to disappear, soon to be rendered invisible by the sun’s infant rays greedy to claim their rightful turn in the sky.
***
Hours later, the dawn long vanished, he knew he neared the tribe. His heartbeat ratcheted up with stress. Every possible lie long discarded, he knew it was time to face the music.
As he ascended the last rise, smoke from multiple breakfast fires rose to greet the late morning sun. From his vantage point, he saw various tribesmen and women still scurrying around with the chores of the morning. Carefree children were chasing each other while older teenagers egged them on.
The ramshackle nature of their dwellings appeared pleasantly blurred from his position, allowing the settlement to take on the appearance of an actual village. In the distance he could see the groves of fruit and nut trees they’d painstakingly transplanted from deep in the mine, a monumental task. The seedlings had thrived in the open under the watchful glare of the sun and the now skilled farming members of the tribe.
To the left, he spied figures in the fields, already at work tending their lush vegetable crops. They appeared to grow wherever they found a spot to plant them. The damage done by hungry roving creatures bothered them little.
A couple wandered away from the children toward an outcrop of rocks, closer to his vantage point. Young lovers? As he watched them kiss, he guessed it wouldn’t be long before the young girl claimed her man and started a home of her own.
He tore his gaze away from the young lovers, jealousy an emotion that plagued him forcefully, reminding him of all that he no longer had.
It appeared quite clear that the tribe flourished well under the leadership of his dispatched sister. Did they even need him?
He vainly considered turning around and throwing himself on the mercy of the Others rather than face the certain wrath and scorn of his own people. Seth wiped his beaded brow, the sun making him sweat. Crouched with his back to the encampment, absorbed in his own self-pity, he failed to see members of the tribe stop their chores and stand speechless as the late morning air began to sizzle, the sun rising over the eastern horizon blinding them.
Seth’s discomfort from the sun began to sink in. But not in time to witness the first of the monumental solar flares that lit the sky, making the forty-five-mile-wide chunk of metallic space debris glow as it fought with the flare to be the first to reach the vulnerable planet.
Two Hours Before The End
Chapter 2
Johno directed the keepers with a heavy heart. The men were ever flexible but he could see their broken spirits in the cant of their shoulders and the pain in their eyes.
“No, my friend. You’re pulling up plants. We need to rid the field of the weeds. Like this.” Johno demonstrated with a quick slash into the red dirt with his shovel, severing the roots and flipping the plant clear of the soil. He bent his timeworn back to retrieve the weed and stuff it into the sling hanging from his back like the other men.
A hand grasped his shoulder. Johno turned to see one of his men shading his other hand over his eyes and looking toward the hill that led to the woods and the path to the Hive. He just caught a glimpse of some of the other survivors disappearing into the trees. What was that gli
mmer in the air? If I didn’t know better, I’d say that Baby and Echo were back.
“Boss, I think they were trying to get our attention.”
Johno squinted back up at the hill, evidence of the migration to the Hive littering the ground. “Are you sure?”
He turned back to his trusted men. “I’d better see what’s happening. I’ll go see if I can find Hud, maybe stop by the kitchen and see what Dezi knows. You boys want to take a break? I’ll wait and see what Dezi has for us for lunch while I’m at it.”
Watching Johno give the hill another quick glance told his men that the concern in Johno’s dark expressive African eyes was more for the loss of their beloved Tobi and her herd than anything else.
Johno started his trek out of the fields amidst the uneasy whispers and mumbling of his men as they took refuge under a huge walnut tree. It served as a welcome respite from an unusually hot late morning sun, a grateful balm to their overheated bodies.
Johno hurried, wiping his perspiring brow with a rag, his shirt plastered to his sleek knotted muscles even as sweat continued to pour down his underarms. He felt an uncoiling in the pit of his stomach, a viper he tried to quell with sheer willpower.
He tried unsuccessfully to shake off his emotional paralysis, served to him by the realization that he no longer shared the planet with the creatures he loved with every fiber of his being. Elephant-tender no more, he would tend crops until, by the grace of the Womb, Tobi and her herd would be allowed to return home. He nurtured the tiny flare of hope, refusing to relinquish his fiercely held aspiration.
Reaching the edge of the field, he raced to the kitchen. From his left, he could see Hud and Ginger Mae at the base of the road leading to the woods.
“Hey there, Hud . . . Ginger Mae. Wait up!”
The couple turned and waited, the smiles on their welcoming faces slowly melting as Johno’s dripping condition and obvious state caused them to tense.
Johno caught up, heaving breath cutting off his words. “Hey . . . ah . . . You guys . . . you guys see anything unusual?”
“Like what, Johno? Something wrong?” They eyed him with concern.
Johno gulped a deep breath, calming down. “We thought we saw something on the hill. It looked like Echo or Baby to me . . . I’m not sure.” He stared at the large box that hung from Hud’s side. “Where are you going with that, my friend?”
Ginger Mae tugged on Hud’s arm. “We need to get going, Hud, no telling how long we’re going to have access to the Hive. Johno, we have no idea what you’re talking about. You want to come with us? We could use some help.” Turning, she waved at Peter returning to the kitchen, motioning for him to join them. Jogging up to the base of the hill, he asked. “What’s up, guys?”
“Johno thinks he saw Baby and Echo on the hill.”
Johno raised his hand, “No, not on the hill . . . at the top. My men thought they saw Cobby and Bonnie.”
Peter screwed up his face. “No, not Bonnie. She’s in the kitchen. I’m on my way there now.”
“Can you spare another half hour or so?” Hud asked.
“Yeah,” interjected Ginger Mae. “We could use the extra hand to carry some of the last of the good stuff from storage. I know it’ll be needed eventually. Why waste it?” She turned her charm on Peter. “Please . . . Bonnie won’t mind waiting with the babies.”
He dismissed Johno’s concerns, “Wish we could help you.” Looping her arm through Hud and Peter’s, she proceeded to tug them up the hill.
Peter cranked his sweaty neck back to Johno. “Can you stop by the kitchen, Johno? Let Bonnie know?”
“Sure. You guys go on. I’m headed for the kitchen anyway, got to feed the crew. You be off now. Keep your eyes open.” He waved at the chummy threesome but they’d already turned their backs to him, deep in conversation, their laughter carrying back down the hill.
Johno watched quietly, his wise eyes scanning the quiet woods. Ginger Mae’s voice was now a distant musical note fleeting and fading as they moved among the trees. The viper in his stomach twitched a warning. Yeah, yeah, I hear you, my friend. Please . . . just settle down for me. I pray you’re wrong and it’s just my imagination.
Johno hurriedly made his way back to the kitchen, Crystal now weighing heavily on his mind. He needed to find her and get her up to the Hive. Just on the off-chance that the viper in his stomach was correct.
Rounding the side of the kitchen, he observed the door closing behind someone. He heard voices inside as the door swung back open to admit him.
“Johno, what are you doing here?” Crystal approached her husband to give him a resounding kiss then turned back to the other survivors, who watched with stupefied faces.
Clyde, Salina and Jennifer stood examining the empty kitchen; there was no sign of Dezi or the lunch fixings that would normally be apparent. Dezi’s counters sparkled clean and clear. Not a crumb in sight.
Clyde escorted his two women to a table, leaning in to be extra solicitous toward Jennifer who had yet to recover fully from her mental breakdown suffered the night they’d met the members of the tribe from the Franklin Mines. It was forbidden to mention the names Lorna and Seth around her even as Lorna’s revelation about her parentage brought great bittersweet joy to them all. All the survivors had great hopes for the future and the uniting of Lorna’s tribe with their group.
Father Garcia and Maddy approached from the confines of the nursery, worried expressions now shared by all.
“I don’t understand. Where are the babies? Where’s Cobby? And Chloe? They were here when we left.” The blank looks on everyone’s faces told Johno everything he feared.
“We need to leave now.” All traces of the wise man they loved now vanished as Johno’s face sagged, looking chalky and threatening panic.
From their table, Clyde’s voice boomed out. “Settle down, everyone. Salina, why don’t you go rustle up some grub? Dezi won’t mind.” He slapped her on the rump as she rose to obey. “You can still cook up some fine vittles, can’t you?”
She gave him a quick glance of annoyance. “Try that again and the only vittles I cook up will be the ones I rip from your big belly.” Salina huffed her way to Dezi’s kitchen and grabbed some bowls amid the laughter from Father Garcia and Maddy.
“No, no . . . you don’t understand. Something’s going to happen. Something bad. That’s why the kitchen’s empty. We thought we saw them on the hill to the Hive. My men thought they were trying to get our attention. We need to run. Now!”
Clyde stood with his hand raised. “Now just a gosh darn minute.”
Johno shook his head sadly and grabbed Crystal’s hand. “Good luck, everyone.” He dragged her out the door.
***
Ginger Mae stood with her husband and Peter in the old supply room surveying the shambles left from their effort to salvage what they could. The beam of her flashlight lit up what was left: long discarded shelves broken by the Kreyven when it had brought the contents of a department store to the Hive in preparation for their arrival so many decades ago.
“I think I saw the box of penlights under that junk.” Ginger Mae lifted a piece of metal off a smashed box.
Hud hurried to her side. “Let us handle that, hon. If you’re right, we could sure use some more light right now.”
Peter knelt at the other end of the pile. “I wonder when the membranes disappeared. It never occurred to me that we’d no longer be able to see in here.”
“Do you think they’ll just leave what’s at the mouth of the Hive and in the big cavern?’ Ginger Mae asked.
“I don’t think so, hon. Wil said it’s the Kreyven’s job to secure the Hive. They can’t have anyone accidentally getting into the portal. They’d never find their way back. Even though there are now only two paths, one to Oolaha and one to . . . hmmm . . . I don’t think he told me. I wonder where the other path goes to? Oh well . . . doesn’t matter now. We better just concentrate on grabbing anything useful that’s left and get out of here.”
/> The threesome went to work, Ginger Mae with her flashlight and the men with the tiny pocket lights. It didn’t take long to fill their big box. Hud managed to find a pile of work boots sitting on a heap of fabric as if someone else had readied them and promptly left them behind. Ginger Mae found a small cookbook in the rubble and slipped it into her pocket to hand over to Dezi. She was pleased with the tiny treat she could take to surprise him.
“I think we’d better head back now, Hud. The box is full.”
Hud bent over to heft the box onto his broad shoulders. “Wait, what about some of this broken metal shelving? We could find a handy use for this someday. We might be grateful we grabbed some of it while we had the chance.”
Ginger Mae bent down to gather it in her arms. She glanced up to see Hud heaving the box. “Come on, Peter. Gather some of this up with me. It’s too heavy for me to carry more than a couple pieces by myself.”
“Let me tie a few pieces together for you. Hand me that twine. It’ll be easier to carry that way.” After tying two bunches of the metal together, Peter slipped one bundle under Ginger Mae’s arms. “How’s that feel?”
Ginger Mae gave it a test. “Good. Not too heavy.”
Hud nodded in their direction. “We gotta move. Peter, can you tuck in the tail of that twine? I don’t want her to trip on it.”
Peter wrapped the tail of the twine around her hand, securing it tightly then bent to do the same for his bunch. “Okay. We’re set.”
The three of them headed back down the lonely winding corridors, the shuffle of their feet on the rock floor the only sound as they conserved their strength for their burdens. Ginger Mae took the lead since she still carried the only flashlight, tucked into her breast pocket and sending most of the light straight up. Still, it was enough. She honestly thought she could traverse the corridors blindfolded anyway.
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