Evolutionary

by James Porter

  “That’s gonna look real good hanging on my wall” He set his bow to the side and was about to get to field dressing his kill, when bright lights suddenly illuminated him from above. He jerked to his feet and grabbed his bow as he watched the bright lights descend into the field. The large rocket looked like a silvery dart pointing to heaven as it incinerated the corn beneath it with its landing thrusters. Bud just stood there watching, and as the spacecraft touched down with a final blast of air that conveniently put out the fires it had started, Bud put in a pinch of dip.

  “I shoulda known it would go down like this, finally hit the buck of a lifetime, only to get abducted by gal damn aliens” He shook his head at the cruel irony of it.

  Star climbed down the ladder and approached the merciless killer, she had her ray gun drawn and cautiously moved toward him. His stance suggested that he didn’t really care if she was here or not, and he seemed more annoyed than anything. Truly a sign of a dangerous murderer. She thought. Now he was tending to his recent kill, stripping the flesh off of it and taking the head as a trophy. What a revolting, barbaric, being this was. Star had a hard time associating the once great Atlantean race with these backward primitives. Something terrible must have happened to see that once great people devolved into mere savages. She had anticipated having to beg her former creators for mercy and to rescue them from their own folly, but this was too much. How could she even begin to negotiate with these barbarians? Best just to take them to the planet and set them loose on it, like throwing a wolf into a field of lambs. She took note at how cruel her own thoughts sounded and wondered if her circuits would ever be the same. Probably not. She walked right up to the bloodied hunter and simply shot him with the stun beam of her ray gun. He kind of grunted as he was phased into unconsciousness, a trail of brown fluid dribbled down his chin as he lay helpless on the ground.

  “You sir, will be doing a lot more killing once we get you to my people. I have a whole planet for you to kill.” She grabbed him by the leg and started dragging him to the ship, but then turned and grabbed his weapon as an afterthought as well as the trophy he had worked so hard to get. “I’m not sure if he will need these or not.”

  Flies had already gathered on the deer’s carcass as the ship lifted into the night sky leaving a trail of smoke and fire that illuminated the woods. The only evidence that anyone had ever been there were the remains of the deer and the spiral circle pattern burned into the field by the ships’ engines.

  Further off on a dirt road a tan car had stopped and a man stood watching the spectacle with a pair of binoculars. As the ship disappeared into the night, agent Moot got back in his car and started tracking the trajectory of the alien craft. Moot followed the smoke trail of the engines back to a corn field. There he found a typical crop circle burned into the scorched earth. The bloody remains of the deer caused him to pause and inspect the area. Crawling around on the ground with a small flashlight held between his teeth, Moot looked at everything. When he was done evaluating the scene he took out a small notebook and detailed what he had found. One middle aged man stalked and killed a deer with a 60 some-odd pound recurve bow. Hunter then skinned the deer with a 10 inch fixed blade buck knife. The head and skin of deer is missing, presumably with hunter. Alien landed at site of crop circle approached the hunter and incapacitated him. No signs of human blood. Hunter was dragged one handed to the crop circle and then is gone. Presumably abducted. Moot chewed on the end of his short wood pencil as he read through his notes to make sure he had everything. He wasn’t sure what the alien invaders were planning but he was going to stop them, and when he did, the agency would have to promote him. The other agents would finally have to stop laughing and would look at him with respect.

  Chapter 7

  Marshfield, Missouri.

  “So in your own words, tell me what you saw Mr. Kelly.” The young redhead thrust a microphone into the face of the man she was questioning. She was in her mid-twenties with her hair in a bun. She wore a jacket and slacks that were casual yet classy. This directly contrasted to the man standing in front of her microphone. He was wearing an old t-shirt and dirty jeans with holes in them. He had obviously been drinking and still clutched the near empty bottle of whiskey with a white knuckle grip. His hair looked like it was trying to scatter to the four winds as his wild eyes tried to focus on the petit woman in front of him.

  “Well, it was obviously a U.F.O. Probably sent by the government to brainwash law-abiding citizens with some sort of brain wave manipulator. Turn us all into government assassins! Or zombies! Or zombie assassins!” The man was very animated in his speech and his speech was slurred from the alcohol. Lori Howard took it in stride and calmly continued her interview.

  “And what exactly did this “UFO” do?” She stared into the man’s eyes as he spoke, trying to discern any evidence of truth to what he was saying.

  “Well I was in these woods here, minding my own business, when the thing glided over the highway and into some clouds. It was really hard to see, cuz it kept mostly in the clouds, but I saw it. It was like it was watching them.” He made a gesture toward the highway.

  “Watching them? Watching who?” She could see no hint of deceit in the man, he believed what he was telling her, and although he reeked of liquor, his account piqued her interest.

  “The road crew. You know, them community service boys the sheriff drags up and down the highway to clean it up? It just kinda stayed with them, no doubt frying their brains with microwave beams. One of the delinquents went nuts and started screaming and yelling until the jack boot deputy clobbered him. Then the UFO was gone. Guess it caused enough trouble and went to mutilate some cows or something.”

  “And what did you say you were doing in the woods?” The man holding the camera chuckled as he asked.

  “Minding my own damn business is what I was doing! I am a consummate bird-watcher, you know?” He puffed his chest out and put a hand to his chest in an attempt to look respectable. The man looked like he was going to say something else, but Lori thought it was probably best to just cut him off there.

  “Well there you have it, an eyewitness account of how a government UFO turned a cleanup volunteer into a raving zombie assassin. You heard it here first on Spook 101 your channel for conspiracies, paranormal, and supernatural news.” She took the microphone away from her mouth. “That’s a wrap Trevor.” Trevor Foster, her cameraman turned off his camera and lowered it. He watched her as she thanked the man for his time. Lori was a dynamic woman, curious and bright, but she also had a gift for finding things that could be true. At least they hadn’t been able to disprove any of her stories yet. She would have made a good investigative reporter, but she wasn’t interested in pursuing the “boring” stories. She loved the mystery and adventure of delving into the unknown and reporting on things the normal person couldn’t explain.

  “So? How did that all look?” The freckles peppering her face made her look younger than she was and she half smiled while her green eyes had that look telling Trevor that they weren’t done yet.

  “It looked great, Lori. But I get the feeling that this isn’t the whole thing yet, is it?” Trevor had been Lori’s cameraman for two years now, they had dated for a short while, but they worked better as a team then as a couple. He had learned how to read her enough to know that they would be doing some more work on this story.

  “Mr. Kelly said that one of the volunteers got roughed up by the sheriff’s department. I think that it is our duty to see if that person was indeed the target of some sort of brain beam weapon, or if he is just another police brutality victim.” Lori wasn’t sure exactly where this was going to go or even if it would pan out, but she could feel deep in her soul that this was going to be one of the most important stories she had ever done.

  “So, you think there might be something to this story?” Trevor found the thought a little ridiculous, but Lori was the boss, so he did what she wanted. He didn’t have to believe it to get a paycheck.


  “I don’t know. First stop is going to be the police station to see if we can get any information out of the deputy. Then we can track down this victim and get the rest of the story. Mr. Kelly wasn’t lying or making this up. He truly believes he saw something.” Lori was packing her gear into bags as she talked.

  “Well from the smell of him, I’d say there’s a good chance that the only thing he was seeing was alcohol induced hallucinations.” Trevor always had been a skeptic, even when the stories were convincingly real; he always believed in the back of his mind that there was a logical explanation for them.

  “It always seems like the person reporting these things are a tad bit unreliable, otherwise people might actually start believing some of this shit.” She double checked that she had all the geared stowed properly in the van and then climbed in. Lori was a believer and she was always looking for that story that would have so much evidence that there would be no doubt to its authenticity. To prove the unprovable was her dream. To be the one to finally show people the truth. She managed to stifle her giggle of excitement as they headed to the police station.

  Chapter 8

  Port Fourchon, Louisiana.

  Jake really only had one thing in mind tonight and that was to get totally blind drunk annihilated. The oil rig accident was not his fault, but Anders had hid his tracks well and made sure everyone thought Jake was to blame. Of course he got fired afterwards and he wasn’t allowed anywhere near the rig. His friends or ex-friends, hated him now for causing the death of Don. Don was a good man and didn’t deserve to die the way he did, especially when Jake felt he could have stopped it. “Give me a shot of Jim, and keep ‘em coming” He grabbed the first glass and dumped the contents down his throat. The strong alcohol burned on the way down almost causing him to cough, but he managed to swallow it. He hardly noticed the shadowy figure sidle up to him.

  “You were at that huge oil rig explosion weren’t you?” He was really not wanting to have this conversation, especially with a complete stranger. He turned to the owner of the voice and found a strange sight before him. There was a woman in a long coat with the collar pulled up and wearing a fancy hat pulled down on her head so that her face was in shadow. Her hair was a metallic white and it hung straight down covering her neck and stopping at her shoulders. Her voice was smooth yet reminded him of the recorded voice you hear when you call customer service. He looks at the shadow of her face and tries to see her features, but the room is too dim, but he could swear that her eyes were a slightly glowing violet.

  “The local media claimed you were the one responsible, is that true?’ There was no hiding the disgust or the accusatory tone in her voice. Now this was getting annoying. Who did this gal think she was to come in here and start interrogating him, the Spanish inquisition? Jake turned back to his drink, downed it and motioned to get a refill. He was quickly losing his patience with the whole world.

  “Are you another reporter? Because, like I told the last one…” Jake didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence.

  “Yeah he’s the one alright” came a drunken slur from behind them, “He killed Don. Don was a good guy you ass” It was Joe Dugan, one of Jake’s former teammates on the oil rig, and from the sound of him he was doing the same thing Jake was, only he had a hefty head start.

  “Don was my friend too, Joe” He was one of Jakes only friends, in fact Don was the guy that actually helped Jake get the job on the oil rig in the first place.

  “Yeah, Now Don’s dead because of you” the drunken oilman gave Jake a healthy shove into the wall. Jake let out a whoof as all the air was knocked out of him.

  “You son-of-a-bitch! It wasn’t my fault!” Jake’s fists clenched and a wild look crept into his eyes. If this guy wants a fight then he’s going to get a fight. Another oilman threw a bottle which smashed into the wall signaling the start of the brawl. Jake instinctively brought his hands up to a boxing stance as he dove into the fight. Delivering one’s and two’s followed by the occasional three as he danced the violent dance with his former workmates. Jake was just delivering some final blows to old Rupert as the gunshot rang out. Drunk men clambered out of the way of the source, as Joe stood there smoke lazily drifting from his skyward pointing pistol.

  “You killed him, you should have known what you were doing.” He lowered the gun and pointed it directly at Jake. “You’re gonna pay!” His finger tightened on the trigger and the hammer started to fall. In a flash the young mysterious woman was up and to the gunman grabbing the gun. The thin metal between her thumb and pointer finger catching the hammer before it could do any damage. She yanked the gun from Joe’s hand and stared at him with the glowing violet eyes of a hungry lioness daring him to make a move.

  “I have use of this man, but I need him alive.” Star dared him to move. The silence that fell over the bar was deafening.

  Joe looked into those violet eyes and his will was destroyed by the intensity of the strange woman’s stare. An eternity seemed to pass, then he looked away defeated and glared at Jake. Hatred oozed from him like puss from an infected wound, filling the room with a palpable feeling of doom.

  “We’ll meet up again Jake, and you won’t always have someone to hide behind” Joe picked up one of his buddies and limped out the door. Everyone else followed suit, rapidly leaving the bar empty except for Jake, the girl and a very pissed off bartender.

  “So am I supposed to thank you? He would have been doing me a favor.” He grabbed a stool and set it upright and had a seat. Jake grabbed a still standing shot glass off the bar and helped himself to some liquor, downing it in a single gulp. He winced as the alcohol splashed over his busted lip sending new pain into his already overloaded brain. The woman took off her hat revealing that she was no normal woman. The dim light reflected off her silvery skin, and her eyes were indeed glowing.

  “What the hell are you?” He was trying to back away from her without much success, and she easily stepped toward him and grabbed his arm with the firmest grip he had ever felt. This thing could rip him in two without even breaking a sweat, that is, if it could sweat.

  “My name is Star, and as much as I detest your deplorable actions I need you to help my people kill a planet. You obviously have the skills needed to inflict death and destruction.” Star spat out the last words like they burned her mouth. She jerked him off the stool and to his feet and then she escorted him to the door. He didn’t even resist, she was so unreal that he wasn’t sure if this was real or not.

  “That’s really not a nice thing to say to someone. Where did you say we were going?” Jake was starting to get a little worried for his safety, especially since this thing didn’t seem to like him all that much.

  “I didn’t say, but I won’t hurt you. Everything will be explained when we get back to my craft.” She didn’t want to say too much here in case anyone overheard her.

  The bartender just stood there jaw agape as the poor man was led away by the beautiful robot. The bartender took a drink from one of the bottles and sat down, knowing that nobody was going to believe this, that is, if he decided to risk telling anyone.

  Once again agent Moot was too late. He arrived at the bar just moments after the alien had fled. The bartender was tight lipped and didn’t want to talk, but a little softening up with some agency interrogation techniques and he was singing like a person that sings. Agent Moot absorbed all the information he was getting and added it to his notes. Let’s see. Oil rig worker causes one of the worst oil rig disasters of the century. Gets his drink on and a fight breaks out. Someone tries to shoot the oil worker, alien steps in and saves him. They leave together, possibly not of his free will. Moots pencil suffered an inglorious chewing while Moot looked over the notes, running them all through his head. I think I’m beginning to see the bigger picture. Moot snapped his notebook closed. The alien was obviously abducting people for some sort of evil purpose, but what? He had better figure it out before it was too late and his only chance for success in the agency disa
ppeared among the stars for good.

  Chapter 9

  Marshfield, Missouri.

  Alan got out of the county sheriff van and stepped to the sidewalk in front of his apartment complex.