by Mark Tufo
“It’s you and me,” the little dream girl Beth said aloud. The scene faded and Beth plunged deeper into sleep, her pillow still held tight to her chest.
***
Paul stopped by my quarters a few hours later to find me seated at the edge of my bed, head in hands.
Paul took one look. “Your big green friend told me; when I went to your hospital room.”
I did not look up.
“Have you gone to see her?” Paul asked.
“Ah… in a manner of speaking,” I answered, finally looking up.
“You look like hell, Mike. Do you think you should have checked yourself out of the hospital?”
“I’m having doubts myself, but if I go back now, Nurse Grogan will have my nuts in sling.”
“Yeah, I heard about that too.” Paul smiled. “That’s the first I’ve ever heard of her backing down.”
“I’d chalk one up, but I don’t think I could raise my arm that high.”
Paul had concern on his face, I really did have a slight greenish tinge.
“Relax, bud,” I said noticing Paul’s expression. “I’m not quite ready to throw in the towel just yet. I mainly feel sick to my stomach and it’s mostly nerves. Yeah I know, big bad freedom fighter taken down by a case of butterflies.”
“I’m going down there now; do you want to come?” Paul asked seriously.
“Not yet, Paul. Maybe not ever. I don’t think I can.”
“She came here for you, Mike. Nobody else.”
“Don’t you think I know that? What if I go down there and I end up not being able to leave her? I don’t think I could take it. I have strong feelings for Tracy. Beth is my soul, Tracy is my spirit. It’s like choosing between life and existence. Paul, if I thought I could make it more than fifty feet without passing out, I would have just flat out left the Hill by now.”
Paul’s expression deepened and then lightened. “I don’t know, man, I can’t say I’m feeling all that much pain for you. You’ve got two beautiful women vying for your attention and willing to die for you, pretty much sounds like a dream come true.”
“The problem, though, Paul, is that unlike a dream, I can only walk the path with one of them. I don’t want to do this, I would rather be out fighting than have to deal with this mind fuck.”
Paul walked over to my bed and clapped me gently on the shoulder. “Come on man, just come and say hi.”
I shook my head. “Not yet, Paul. Not yet.”
“I understand. Do you want me to say anything on your behalf?”
I thought hard for a moment, a hundred things passed through my mind. A thousand memories flashed. “No,” I answered flatly.
“Get some sleep, bud.”
“Yeah, wouldn’t that be nice.”
***
Paul headed out the door and down the hallway. Beth turned her head when she heard the door open.
“Paul!” she said energetically. She moved her good arm to reach toward him.
“Hold on, I don’t want you undoing anything our good doctor has fixed,” Paul said as he rushed to her side. Paul squeezed her hand. “Beth, it’s so good to see you. How have you been?” Even as Paul was finishing the question, he saw a dark cloud pass through her eyes. He knew her story would be no more enlightening than any of the thousand or so he had heard since the epic had begun.
“I’ll tell you everything, Paul, but first…”
And here it comes Paul braced.
“Is Mike here?” she asked, hope flitting across her face. God, she was beautiful. At one time, she had looked his way with those beautiful eyes, but he had been too immature as their fledgling relationship had begun. He had messed around with one of her friends in a drunken stupor. She remained his friend, but she had lost a great measure of respect for him. Something he had strived bit by immeasurable bit to win back.
“He is,” he answered, not knowing how to handle the situation.
“Is he alright?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“Paul, please don’t make this like pulling teeth. I can tell by your face that something is going on.”
“Please, Beth,” he pleaded.
She could tell by his reaction that something was amiss and she didn’t care how uncomfortable she made him, she wanted answers.
“I asked how he was,” Beth demanded.
“He’s been in the infirmary for the last few days,” Paul started, worry creased Beth’s face. “He’s fine for the most part, got banged up a bit by an explosion.” Beth involuntarily gasped. “Uh, don’t worry, he caused the explosion. Wait-wait, I know that doesn’t make it sound better. God, Beth, the guy is fuckin’ amazing. He stood up in a shit storm of a firefight, risking his life to save us all. I know I grew up with him and I might know him better than anybody and then he goes and does shit like that and it’s like I don’t know him at all.”
“You love him, don’t you?” she asked.
“With all my heart. He is my brother just not in name.”
“Paul, I love him too,” Beth stated. For some reason that stung Paul somewhere deep down. He made sure to stomp that lit match before it consumed him. “What is going on? Why hasn’t he come to see me? Is he too hurt?”
“He’ll come when he’s ready, Beth. That’s all I can really tell you. The rest is his to say.” Paul segued as best he could to move on to another subject. “So when did you start traveling with a small bear?”
Beth turned toward Sampson. She knew it would be fruitless to keep pumping Paul for information, he had said his piece and it didn’t look like there was any more information forthcoming.
“Paul, he is the most amazing dog I have ever met. I wholly believe he’s more than just a dog, I think he’s a guide of some sort. When he looks at me, I can tell there is true intelligence in his gaze. He saved my life. First, he killed the man that was chasing me and then he somehow carried me here, although how he found it here is just another mystery I’ll never know.”
“You don’t know?” Paul said rubbing his hand through his hair.
“Know what?” she asked.
“I don’t doubt that your... Sampson, did you say?” Beth nodded. “I don’t doubt at all that Sampson is a very intelligent dog and he did save your life. He did not, however, kill that man or carry you here.”
“Is that madman dead?” Beth asked haltingly, fear creeping in around the edges.
“He’s quite dead.”
“Again, Paul with the teeth-pulling thing.”
“Sorry this is just so much fun.”
Beth nodded in mock agreement. “Tell me what the hell is going on or I’ll get out of this bed and beat you silly with a bed pan.”
“A bed pan?”
“It’s all I could think of on short notice.”
“Fine-fine, lord knows where those things have been, I’ll tell you. Mike has made a lot of alien enemies but he has made one friend. One that he calls Drababan.”
“What, an alien is his friend?” she asked in disbelief.
“Oh, it gets much better than that. Not only is this monster his friend, it killed your pursuer and carried you and your wooly mammoth over there to safety.”
“Are you kidding me?” she asked, looking into his eyes for any sign of a practical joke being played on her. “You’re not, are you? This is insane. One of those creatures!” she said disdainfully. “Saved me and Sampson? Oh the universe has truly turned on its ear.”
“Beth, I hear you. I wanted the thing shot the moment it walked in the door. The mere sight of it struck something so deep in me I could only label it as primordial. It’s like it wasn’t just a threat to my life, but to my very being. It is so against everything I have ever learned. I’m not sure if I’m around that thing for a hundred years that I’ll ever be comfortable with it. But Mike, shit, he has heart to heart conversations with it. They laugh and joke, they've played games. It’s just one more piece in the master jigsaw puzzle that is Mike.” And by trying to avoid that one
topic, he had brought it back full circle. An uncomfortable silence fell over their conversation.
“Um… Beth I really need to go and check on a few things. You know the bane of leadership,” Paul said limply.
Beth knew he was trying to get out of dodge before she pressed him any more. She let him off the hook. “When are you coming back? I would really like you to meet Sampson when he is up and about.”
Paul was thankful, he knew his retreat was lame at best. “It’ll at least be a few hours, I want to check on some of my wounded and I still have a few unanswered questions about that huge croc running around my complex. I love you, Beth, and no matter what happens I cannot tell you how truly happy I am that you made it here.”
Beth thanked him before he left and sat wondering what his cryptic message about ‘no matter what happens’ could possibly mean.
***
“Did the doctor check you out of the clinic?” Tracy asked, coming into my quarters.
I had been dozing when she came in and for the briefest of moments. With the light shining behind Tracy’s head, I had not been able to recognize who she was. Luckily, I had been too surprised to say anything or I was fairly certain ‘Beth?’ would have been the first thing out of my mouth. That would not have gone over well. I sat up, wiping the sleep off my face, hoping that I had successfully hidden the panic that had instantly welled up inside me. Tracy seemed none the wiser.
“Did he?” she asked again, looking, I thought, deep into my soul. “Are you alright?” she asked concerned. “You look a little flushed.”
I was a horrible liar, so bad in fact that I had determined long ago to just not even bother. I had found the truth to be so much easier and if for whatever reason the truth could not be told then to just not answer at all. I had found to my amazement that if I just did not answer a question, the person asking would generally answer it themselves. I knew this time that silence was not going to get me to safety.
“Beth’s here,” I stated with as little inflection as possible.
“The Beth?” she asked incredulously. “Have you seen her?”
“Yes and no,” I answered.
“What does that mean?” Tracy asked her palms suddenly clammy.
“I walked by her room, but I didn’t go in to see her.”
“Why?”
“Why what? Why did I go to her room or why didn’t I talk to her?”
“Both.”
“Tracy, this is something I never thought I would have to deal with again. I thought she was out of my life forever.”
“But she isn’t, so now what?” Tracy asked.
I could hear desperation creeping into her voice.
“I’ve got to at least talk to her.”
“Why? You don’t owe her anything,” Tracy answered with true hurt in her voice.
“I don’t owe her anything, she owes me; at least a simple damn thank you,” I shot back, maybe with a little too much vigor.
“Do you love her?”
“I loved her as much as I love you,” I answered, although in all truth it was in avoidance of an answer. I knew I was close to loving Tracy completely and I wanted to believe that I had put Beth behind me. The fence I sat so precariously on was tall, thin and very unstable, I thought of just letting go and let the chips fall where they may.
Tracy shut the door behind her as she left, wiping tears from her face.
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
Eastern Seaboard Ground Occupation - Location Southwest of Boston
“We lost almost nine hundred troops in less than an hour!” The Ground Commander screamed. “How is this possible? We were told there was no viable opposition left.”
“Apparently the information was wrong Commander,” the second in command said, immediately wishing the words had never come out of his snout.
Fortunately for the underling, the commander was much too involved in his own thoughts to register what his lieutenant had said. “How will I be able to explain this to the Supreme Commander? I cannot tell him of this defeat; he will have me replaced and I will become the next warrior in the games.”
Normally, the second in command would have relished his position, because he would be next in line to take command, but then his neck would be in the noose and these tiny thin-skinned devils scared him deeply. They attacked out of nowhere and disappeared in the same fashion. No, it would not be wise to let his commander fail just yet; he must wait until there was a more opportune time.
“Sir, perhaps one of the prisoners has some information we could use?” he asked.
The commander turned, the frustration and fear quickly evaporated with the chance of success still in his grasp. “The prisoners? Yes, the prisoners. Bring them to me at once.”
“All of them, sir?”
“Yes, all of them. We will teach them a lesson if they do not talk to us freely.”
“Yes, sir,” the second said, hoping one of the hu-mans had something useful to say. He had no desire to die on this little dust speck in the middle of nowhere and he sure didn’t want to become fodder for the games. He shivered at that thought as he headed across the still smoldering complex.
Thirteen people were lined up in the old mayor’s office. Five men, seven women, and one child. All were more frightened now than any of them had been in their entire lives and two of the men were World War II veterans. That enemy had been savage and brutal in their own right but at least they had been human; mostly.
The commander walked over to one of the women, tears streamed down her face. She began to say the Lords prayer—without a hint of hesitation he shot her. The stink of the burnt flesh hung in the air for a moment before the realization of what happened finally took hold. The remaining six women and the child began to sob. Three of the men stood stoically, realizing that if they were in the final moments of their lives they wanted to go with some measure of dignity. One of the men made a run for the door, he was cut down before he could even grasp the handle. The fifth man, having completely given up any chance at hope or dignity, loosed his bladder.
The commander knew the male child and the inferior females would have no answers. The three men who stood firm might, after some brutality, give him the information he desired or more likely, they would die holding onto what they knew. But the weak one he would tell all without the slightest provocation.
“Guards, put them back in their pens,” the Commander said, relief flooded on their faces. “All except this one.” The Commander placed his meaty paw on the shoulder of the man who had wet himself.”
And there it was again. Spindler couldn’t believe it, he had squeezed blood from a stone. He had not a drop of moisture in him yet he had relieved himself in his pants twice within the last five minutes. He wasn’t proud of it, but the rapidly cooling liquid on his leg let him know he was still alive.
As the people were lead out, the commander asked Spindler if he would like some water. Spindler could think of nothing else to say, except, yes.
He gulped down the water, the searing pain in his throat immediately eased. Spindler was scared, no doubt about it, but he was also intrigued. And just enough to see how far he could get.
“More?” he asked raising his glass.
The alien leaned in, sneering. This is it, thought Spindler I went too far, he’s going to chew my head off.
“Certainly,” came the very distinct inhuman voice.
The burly commander waved over his under commander and in a harsh language asked for what Spindler could only assume was water.
“Hmm,” Spindler muttered.
The commander turned his attention back to him. “Do you have a question hu-man?”
“Ah, not really,” Spindler said licking his lips. “Well, maybe I do.” In for a dime, in for a dollar, he figured. “Why is it that you speak English?”
“You mean why do we lower ourselves to speak a language so far beneath us?”
“I didn’t ask it that way, but if that’s the way you want to answer the
n yes,” Spindler said nervously.
“I can speak almost every one of your Earth languages and a hundred sixty-two languages from worlds you don’t even know exist. When we take over a planet, it is a sign of our superiority. Not only do we take your land and your oceans we take your languages. It is total domination.”
From where Spindler was looking, it didn’t look like total domination. The alien encampment had been reduced to a molten crater, if the prisoner pen hadn’t been so far from the center of the camp he would be dead also. “What happened here?” Spindler asked in sincerity.
The base commander took it as a taunt standing up abruptly. Spindler shrunk back in his chair. The commander’s huge arms quivered. Spindler knew just one backhand from the mighty hand and his spine would shatter.
The commander sat back down, his rage under control for the moment.
“I am not quite sure,” he answered almost in a whisper. “And that’s why you are here.”
Spindler sat back up, realizing that at least for the moment his life was not yet in jeopardy.
“What is it you want from me?” Spindler asked.
“It says here,” the commander said, pointing to a file. His huge hands having difficulty maneuvering through the hole punched pages. “That you were a principal.”
“Yes, that’s correct.” Spindler tried in vain to grasp what significance a small town high school principal could have to do with an alien invasion.
“Well, ‘principal’ means of utmost importance. A hu-man that is of utmost importance must have information. True?” The commander asked.
