Story Time

by Linell Jeppsen

  “Whoa! What is that?” Gary squeaked, pulling back in alarm.

  The little device was alive and pulsing with energy. Its green, metallic skin shimmered and it rolled in mid-air, exposing its underbelly, which was a pale pink in hue.

  “The Remi will not harm you, Michael and Gary Anderson.” The disk was back. “It is an ally who will serve to protect you and the children from attack.” The black eye within the disk seemed to gleam with amusement, as the Remi undulated in the air between the two brothers.

  “Okay…” Michael murmured, “But, how do we use it?”

  “The Remi will…use you to complete the mission. As you can see, the Remi have no appendages, but it will do many things with the help of creatures like you…and other beings for whom they serve. Take the Remi now. No, firmly…you cannot hurt it.”

  Michael gritted his teeth and grasped the little creature in his large hand. There was a momentary tingle and he almost let go again, but suddenly Michael heard a voice in his mind. The Remi was communicating with him! It did not speak English, or any other language that Michael had ever heard, but he understood anyway. He saw himself lifting his own hand while a blue beam of light broke the lock on the solid, steel door leading into the building before him.

  He saw himself grimace fiercely and lift the Remi in his palm to eye level. He watched as the Remi powered up and shot a red ray out and into the bodies of two large, red, many armed aliens. He realized the little gray aliens had gifted him with a fearsome, organic weapon that was only too happy to destroy the aliens who threatened humanity. The Remi clung to Michael’s hand like glue, and had flattened itself to the contours of his palm. It was feather light and slightly warm. Michael knew that the Remi had bonded itself to him somehow, and for a moment he felt a fierce glow of pride at being worthy of its trust.

  “Michael and Gary Anderson, you must go now! Time is of the essence.”

  The Anderson brothers stared at one another for a second. Then they got out of the car. They felt, as well as heard, the protective bubble dissipate, and heard a mighty cacophony in the sky overhead. Neither one of them really understood how horrific the sound levels were. They had been protected in more ways than one by the Grays’ protective bubble. Now though, they heard the screams of battle raging in the sky, and felt the concussions as the earth was torn asunder.

  The Remi throbbed in Michael’s palm and he knew somehow that he and his brother must hurry.

  “Come on…we have to go!” he gasped.

  Michael and Gary sprinted toward a metal door about thirty feet away. There was so much noise in the air and action above them in the sky that the brothers felt disoriented, but the warmth in Michael’s hand was like a beacon… he felt almost as if he was not carrying the Remi as much as the Remi was carrying him. Remembering the Remi’s telepathic message, Michael lifted his palm. Sure enough, a beam of blue light shot from his palm, focusing on the heavy lock on the door’s face. Michael felt a subliminal shudder in his back teeth and suddenly the lock assembly melted. The door sagged inward and the brothers stepped inside.

  “Cool!” Gary enthused, “How the hell did you do that, Michael?”

  Michael looked down at his hand and shrugged. For all intents and purposes, the little Remi had burrowed into his palm and was all but invisible. The only trace of its existence was a faint blue flicker that danced along his hand and fingers like trace lightening. He looked at his brother in amazement.

  Gary looked appalled as he stared at his brother’s hand. Then he quipped, “Oh well; whatever it takes, I guess.”

  They stepped into the large cinder-block building. The air inside smelled of old oil and diesel fumes. Michael realized they must be in the bus barn. One bus was jacked up on blocks and tools were spread out on a bench next to it. Three of its tires rested at an angle alongside the work bench.

  The other bays were empty and Michael wondered whether school was in session, or not. It was late September, but the hour was late…five thirty or so, he guessed, on a Thursday. Michael hoped that school was cancelled because of the calamity, because if not other buses were still out in the rubble of destruction. There were no people here that he could see, and he called out, “Hello? Is anyone here?”

  He felt his brother grasp his arm. Looking around, he saw Gary place his finger against his lips. He pointed, and Michael saw a body lying in a pool of blood at the front end of the bus. Then, Gary gestured toward a stairwell at the south side of the building.

  Michael heard a faint, fluttering sound and stared at his hand, which had begun to heat up. Suddenly, a large figure darkened the doorway. He heard Gary gasp as he saw what was coming up the concrete stairs toward them.

  Two large red aliens lurched from the stairwell. They had many arms, like tentacles, and long spiraling horns that cast eerie shadows on the ceiling overhead. Michael saw the aliens do a double take and focus angry yellow eyes on them. Just as he was about to shout in horror, his right hand flew up, and a red beam shot from the Remi, slamming into the two aliens. There was a buzzing, metallic shriek, and the aliens disappeared in a bloody mist.

  Michael stared at his own hand and shook with fear. My God, he thought, but before he could think about it any further, Gary grabbed his arm and said, “We’d better go, Michael. We might be too late, but maybe the kids hid or something.”

  Michael nodded silently and led the way through the wet and still dripping evidence of the aliens’ existence and down the stairs. It was quite dark. As he held on to the stair banister, he half expected his hand to heat up again with the appearance of more aliens. The Remi was still though, for the moment, and Michael felt safe enough to call out.

  “Kids…its Michael and Gary Anderson. We’re here to help you. Hey kids…can you hear me? Don’t be afraid!”

  “Michael…listen,” Gary hissed.

  Michael stood still for a moment and strained to hear in the dark. At first, he heard nothing, and then he sensed a shuffle in the gloom. He looked around and wondered whether he was hearing more alien activity, but the Remi remained cool. Then, he saw something move in the shadows. He felt a tug in his right hand and when he lifted his arm a warm, golden glow illuminated the basement.

  One by one, the children were revealed in the Remi’s glow. He saw at least three kids standing close to a restroom doorway and as he watched, six others scrambled out from the shadow of a custodian’s closet. There was a clatter as the long handle of a push broom fell to the floor, then a muffled cry of fear from a little girl who grasped the hand of an older boy who was clearly her big brother. Michael saw that all the children appeared to be American Indians.

  Their dark eyes were huge with fright and a couple of the older children seemed to be as intimidated by their saviors as they might have been with the aliens. They herded the littler children behind them and stared at the brothers in fearful defiance.

  Instinctively, Michael and Gary knelt on the floor. They were both huge men, and knew that their physical size could be daunting. Michael cleared his throat.

  “Hey, you guys, my name is Michael. This big lug next to me is my brother Gary. We want to help you, okay?”

  Many of Michael’s team members had called him Boom because of the deep bass quality of his voice as it rumbled out of his chest. He had actually used his voice as a weapon on the basketball court…now he hoped it would not frighten the children further.

  One of the boys stepped out of the shadows. His eyes were bright with recognition and he whispered, “Hey, aren’t you Michael Anderson of the Denver Nuggets?”

  “Yeah, that’s me,” Michael grinned, remembering that many of the kids on the Rez lived for basketball. Most of the kids looked up and smiled as they too remembered where they had seen this giant, black man before. One of the little girls ran up to him as though to throw her arms around him, and then paused in a sudden fit of shyness.

  Michael held his arms open in welcome and she flung herself into his embrace with a cry. The other children gath
ered around and Gary said, “Hey, what are you guys doing here?”

  An older boy said, “We were coming to watch a basketball game between St Mary’s and Chewelah, but that was three days ago. When we got here we saw all the spaceships, and our coach told us to get out of the bus and go downstairs and hide. He said he would be right back, but he…he never came back!”

  The boy was probably ten or eleven years old. It was obvious that he was considered the leader of their little group. Michael thought he must have done a fine job keeping the other kids safe, but now that adults were on the scene, he was more than ready to abdicate his authority. His thin shoulders shook with fear, and Michael took a step closer so the boy could lean on him for support.

  “Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to get out of here, okay? There’s a place we can go to be safe. It’s up north of Colville, I think. We’ll all pile onto those buses outside and make our escape. It’ll be an adventure.”

  Michael tried to fill his voice with confidence, but he knew that it would be next to impossible to sway these kids if they really wanted to go back to the reservation. It would be akin to kidnapping. He shrugged; he was perfectly capable of doing that if it meant keeping them safe. He just hoped that it wouldn’t come down to that.

  The little boy said, “Our people are dead, aren’t they? We saw them coming, all those alien ships. They parked right over town and started blasting away. Coach told the driver to drive real fast and he did, but I think that those aliens killed everyone!” Tears ran down his cheeks. Michael knew that this kid wanted the truth—needed it—and no amount of bullshit on his part was going to fly.

  Michael nodded, “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Tommy…Thomas St. Cloud,” the boy answered.

  “Okay, Tommy. I don’t know about your folks. I really don’t, but I do know that a lot of people are in big trouble out there. My brother and I have seen how the aliens are killing us off, okay? I won’t lie to you about that…heck, you’ve seen them yourselves. What I do know though, is that for some reason Gary and I, and now you guys, have been given a big advantage. For some reason we are all supposed to make it through this. Don’t ask me why, because I really don’t know the reason. What I do know is we need to get on one of those buses and drive on out of here to the Harmony ranch, okay?”

  Tommy frowned. “Harmony isn’t taking on any more people. Even I know that!”

  Michael frowned in surprise. “You know about the Harmony Compound?”

  Tommy shrugged and answered, “Sure, everybody knows, but I’m telling you what my dad said, and that is Harmony isn’t accepting more people.” Frustrated tears welled up in Tommy’s eyes, as though he was ashamed to be the one to share the bad news with their supposed saviors.

  For a moment, Michael wondered if the gray alien was wrong. After all, it admitted that the things they saw were not absolute and that their visions were not always… what was the word he used…finite? He stared at the faces of the children who were now in his care and shook his head. No. Somehow, for some reason, he believed that an exception was going to be made for him and his charges.

  He opened his mouth to say so, but stopped and looked down at his hand. While he was speaking to Tommy, Michael heard Gary asking for everyone’s names. There were five boys between the age of five and twelve years old, and four girls. One of the little girls, whose name was Lindy, had not let go of his hand since she first flung herself into his arms. Now, she looked down at Michael’s hand, and letting go, she said, “Ow! Hot!”

  “Shit! You kids…Gary, get behind me, now!” Michael roared. The stairwell glowed with a sickly, crimson glare. Michael saw the shadow of the alien’s horns as it etched its way toward them. The Remi nudged the back of Michael’s mind, showing him what to do, and within moments, Michael Anderson became one of the deadliest, and most effective of humanity’s soldiers.

  Chapter 15

  A person may plan his own journey, but the LORD directs his steps…The dice are thrown, but the LORD determines every outcome. 16:9, 33 Proverbs

  Naomi on Harmony –

  Glow globes twinkled to life in the lavender dusk. As their golden radiance bathed the amphitheater, and the audience, with light, many people saw that the old woman’s cheeks were wet with tears. She turned slightly and smiled at one of the young men who stood behind her on the stage.

  He poured a cup of some steaming liquid from a pot into a cup, and carried the beverage to where she sat, waiting. He was very tall, with dark skin and shiny reddish, brown hair that fell in waves to his shoulders. He knelt at her feet and she touched his cheek with affection. Then she nodded.

  He rose and walked back to stand by the other man who waited with his shoulders held high. His hands rested on the two ray-pistols that were holstered on either side of his belt. Everyone in the audience knew that these men were brothers. They were both very tall, with dark, golden skin and fierce green eyes. They were Nana Nay’s sons.

  The old woman sipped from the cup, and smiled.

  “Ah,” she said, “that’s better.” Then she gazed out at the audience and said, “I am not now, nor have I ever been a soldier, despite what the history books say.” Naomi smiled again. “Nevertheless, I needed to take up arms and fight after Evan Trumble was escorted from the ranch. We all did.

  “There were two days of relative peace and quiet after the traitors left, but the third morning dawned cold and blustery; and with it the clarion call of war. It was the fourth of October. It was not uncommon for the Colville highlands to receive its first snow in October. We were close to the Canadian border and often a brisk northerly flow would stream from Alaska and the arctic regions of British Colombia and Ontario, coating the pastures and streams with frost even as tomatoes and pumpkins thrived in the nearby town of Kettle Falls.

  “Five other women and I were finishing up our final harvest of corns, beans, potatoes, squash, berries and apples when Zack ran into the greenhouse. His beard sparkled with frost and cold air streamed from his nostrils. I could tell by the look in his eyes that something terrible was happening. I removed my gloves and stepped outside. Once there, I could hear the sounds of shouts, and more importantly, the distant roar of approaching motors.

  “My brother stood next to me and said, ‘We’re under attack, Nay.’ His voice quavered slightly, but I saw that he was ready—there was cold determination in his eyes, and the hand that gripped his rifle was steady.

  “It’s not like we hadn’t planned for this contingency. There was too much hostility and greed in the eyes of those people we kicked out to ignore their threats. We had seized their firearms, though. I thought at least, they might have been slowed down by that, but it looked like there were still plenty of guns, and enough ammunition to go ahead with their plans to take the ranch for themselves.

  “I could feel the steady beat of my heart and a hushed buzz started up in my ears. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was going into battle mode.

  “‘Is everything ready?’ I asked.

  “Zack nodded. ‘As ready as it’s going to get.’

  “‘Okay. Follow the plan. I’ll be there in a few minutes, okay?’ He nodded and walked toward the guard towers.

  “I swallowed once, and then stepped back into the greenhouse.

  “‘Everybody needs to go in the house now…it’s starting,’ I said, loudly.

  “The women looked at me for a moment. I saw that two of them had tears of sadness and fear in their eyes. Then, they picked up whatever they could carry and walked past me, out the door and into the main house.

  “I closed the greenhouse door and followed them. As I approached the front porch, I saw that Steve and Dave had already started handing out weapons. There was a long line of men and women standing silently on the porch and the staircase. The line was moving at a good pace, and even as I strode past them, I saw three men and one woman leave the house with one gun and one bag of shells each.

  “I ran up to my room an
d grabbed my deer rifle and hunting knife. I moved to the window and saw a scene straight out of Mad Max -The Road Warrior. The perimeter fence and the main guard shack were about a quarter of a mile away from the main buildings…the two houses, the refurbished bunk house, the mess tent, the barn, the greenhouse and the corrals. All of the RVs, campers, trailers, tents, trucks and cars within the compound had been moved as close to the main buildings as possible.

  “There was now a wide perimeter of trampled grass, garbage, and still smoking campfires in the field between us and what was approaching from the county road.

  “Over the last two days every piece of alien shielding armor we could find had been glued, wired, and woven into the fence and main gates in an attempt to repel the oncoming army. Suddenly, I doubted it would do any good.

  “At least a hundred cars, trucks, motorcycles, and vans were making their way slowly up the long road that led to the ranch. Each vehicle drove either left, or right, spilling out into the wide pastures that surrounded us. I knew that going right was a futile effort; after about fifty feet the grassy plain ended abruptly in a deep ravine that fell a hundred feet straight down to a sizable creek we called ‘the Little Goose.’

  “Going left, though, would lead the trespassers into the south pasture, and then onto the ranch itself. My granddaddy had a road cut through the old growth forest for easy access to the barn, and to the alfalfa fields that surrounded the ranch and provided feed for its stock.

  “I watched as Trumble’s large black Ram pick-up made its way to the front of the vanguard and disappeared behind a stand of trees. I shook with rage. The man was no fool; he knew just where we were the most vulnerable. But we knew too; we had set roadblocks up there, one after the other, so that, hopefully, no one would be able to penetrate our defenses from that direction.

  “I glanced at the road again and saw that even more vehicles were crowding in from behind. I knew that we were going to have to fight with every bit of will and determination we possessed, or all was lost.