2 Years, 2 Weeks, 2 Lives

by Phil Cocker

you on the loser’s airbed on the floor.”

  “Point made.” Eric said and they both got up to complete their tasks.

  Upstairs they got changed into their pj’s and put the DVD in. Eric lay down on his front, propping his head up his folded arms, whilst Tom leant back against the wall at the top of the bed.

  Soon, the first DVD ended and Eric got up to change it. He was amazed that after all they’d eaten, he felt hungry again, and put it down to being a growing teenager. “Tom, do you fancy a midnight snack?” He asked whilst pausing the start of the second film.

  There was no answer and he turned to see that Tom was fast asleep, slumped over on the pillows he’d been using to lean against. Eric went over and shook him, and Tom merely replied with a short snore.

  “Just no staying power from the champion.” Eric quietly said. “Well, I’m going to make a quick butty, even if you don’t want one.”

  He checked to see that Tom was fully asleep, before trotting off downstairs and into the kitchen.

  He got four slices of bread out and opened the fridge to have a good nosy around at the various choices before finally deciding upon “Cheese, ham and pickle I think tonight, Treacle.” He noted to the large ball of black and white furry-purry-beastie that had arrived in the kitchen wanting to be fed. He grabbed all the required ingredients and plonked them on a cutting board adjacent to the fridge. Picking a knife from the drawer, he realised the fridge door was still open. Eric stood up on one foot and karate kicked the door closed, adding in a “Hiy-ya” for effect. He turned back to carry on with his creation but noticed how bright it was. “Ah-so. The fridge door has come open and needs another beating shut.” He spun round and started to lift his foot up, but stopped when he saw that the fridge was already closed.

  “Strange.” He said out loud. It was at that moment Eric noticed a flash of light outside the window, followed by a very loud bang. Hoping to see a thunderstorm he looked out of the kitchen window and could only see that the back garden was being illuminated from upstairs. Eric quickly realised what had happened. “Ah, now you wake up.” He trotted back through the lounge and shouted up the stairs. “What sort of butties do you want?” He waited for an answer, but nothing came back. He shouted louder. “Tom, what butties do you want?” All was deathly still, there was no answer. This perplexed Eric for a few moments before he grasped at a possible idea. “The numpty has switched on the bedside light falling out of bed.” He mumbled to himself as he went back upstairs to check on his friend. Eric grabbed the bedroom door handle and pushed, but it was stuck. He tried again, a little harder, but it still wouldn’t budge.

  “Tom, the door’s stuck. Can you help from your side?” He asked, giving it another shove. There was still no answer, and Eric was getting worried as he started to wonder if Tom had fallen out of bed and was now lying hurt behind the door. “Oh pigging hell!” The shock of the situation started to grow within Eric. He stepped a short way from the door, reached out and turned the handle before taking a deep breath, tensing his muscles and butted the door with his shoulder in an attempt to move it.

  He was a little bit relieved when it opened a tiny bit, but was shocked to see that the room was fully illuminated by the main room light. Eric realised that there was no way Tom could have accidentally switched on the main light as he fell out of bed. Eric stepped back, puzzled, letting the door close once more.

  Eric was confused, took a step back and scratched his head as he thought about what was going on. It didn’t add up. Working as fast as his brain could, running through all the various scenarios and ideas he could muster, there wasn’t one which could explain how Tom had managed to switched on the main light, and then fall in such a way that he’d block the door.

  Eric sighed.

  At that moment, his bedroom door flew open and before him stood a tall hooded person. His heart froze. Something told him deep down that this wasn’t another prank being played by John Armer; deep within his soul, he knew that these were the ones who’d attacked and killed his Dad.

  The person in the doorway raised their hands and slowly pulled back their hood, revealing their strange looking face.

  Eric staggered away in shock, catching himself before nearly falling over the banister as he edged his way along the top of the stairs.

  “No, no, you’re…” Eric didn’t want to say the words which his brain was screaming to him. His mind was in turmoil, part of it stating what it could see, and the other stating that it was a lie, a trick on the eyes. Eric had to get control of his fears, as he knew what would happen if he lost that battle.

  He blew out a breath, feeling his heart thumping in his chest, as if trying to escape and run away. “You’re an Alien!” His voice was a whisper, but saying out loud, however quietly, helped his brain get a grasp on the situation. No longer was it fighting itself, for now it could deal with the situation.

  The creature that was blocking his bedroom door let out a croaky, gurgling noise, its thin slit of a mouth lifted up at the sides to be completely horizontal.

  Eric let another breath out. “OK, you think this is a funny situation.” He said more to himself, to explain the noise that was coming from the Alien in as good a way as he could. He continued to very slowly feel his way along the handrail, instinctively inching himself away from the creature he couldn’t stop staring at. He had to do that to ensure that he knew where they were at all times. His eyes took in all of the angular and knobbly features. Their axe-like nose that started at the top of the forehead and ended below their chin. The hollowed cheeks, sunken, soulless black eyes. All of this was so different to anything he’d seen on a science fiction program of film, and was so difficult to understand.

  His left hand felt the banister turn the corner, and a tiny bit of relief coursed through his veins. The Alien was still standing in the doorway, 3 metres away from him now he’d managed to inch his way along the top of the stairs. Eric decided to continue his painfully slow exit, and rounded the corner, backing himself across the top of the first step, all the way into the wall behind him, as the stairs fell away to his right.

  Eric was a tiny bit relieved to see that the Alien being had remained in the doorway as he slid his right foot across and down onto the first step.

  “Hello human, I’m Eklan.” She pulled a strange sort of warped smile at him, which only added to the horror of her features. “I’m the one who has just given your friend a lethal injection of a wonderful new serum we’ve developed.” She took her first step out of the door.

  Panic rooted Eric to the spot. He knew his escape could be made by simply turning and running down the stairs, through the front door and out of the house, but the fear within gripped his muscled, turning him into a statue.

  “And I am also the one who killed his father two years ago.” She nodded back towards the bedroom as she took another step towards him, now only a metre away.

  “Sorry?” Eric’s body was still firmly within fears grip, but his brain churned over what this Eklan creature had said.

  “And now it’s your turn to die.” She took the last step towards him and gripped his shirt top.

  “But, but…” Eric stammered, not fully understanding what was going on, his body failing him still. “You didn’t kill his father, you killed….”

  At that moment, the front door exploded into a hundred pieces and both Eric and Eklan looked down the stairs.

  “You again!” Eklan’s eyes flashed wide as she saw a familiar face, although her voice was filled with hatred. “How can you be here?”

  Eric was confused as the familiar figure of Mr. Jackson leapt through the shattered door, braced himself against the broken door, and aimed a 9mm Glock pistol directly up at the pair of them.

  Eric wondered if this was all a dream, as it was so surreal. He couldn’t understand what was happening at all, and simply wished for all of this to end, so that he could find out what Tom wanted for
a snack and then go to sleep.

  Reality rushed back into Eric’s life as Eklan pulled him towards her with minimal effort, before throwing him down the stairs at Mr. Jackson.

  Eklan raced back along the landing and dove back in the bedroom where there was a flash of light, before a deafening silence and darkness engulfed the little street once again.

  Mr. Jackson had managed to half catch Eric when he’d been thrown at him as if he was a padded toy. The young man‘s head had still bounced off the wall on the way down as lay in in his arms, concussed.

  Mr. Jackson reached into his inside jacket pocket, pulled out his phone, flipped open the cover, and pressed a single button. It was picked up before it had even finished its first ring, “Medical crash team, possible airlift crew to RPH and a full infiltration clean up team, at my location NOW!” He ordered, closing the phone to tend to the very still, yet peaceful looking Eric.

  Endings.

  It was 3 days later before Eric came round in a Royal Preston Hospital bed. He’d been brought in unconscious, but the medical team kept him in an induced coma while the swelling around his brain eased. Emma Peterson, his Mum had been by his side the whole of that time, never leaving his side for more than 5 minutes, while she waited for everything to be OK.

  “Mum, where am I?” Eric