Just for Halloween- Desert Getaway

[Decker]

You may or may not know that around Halloween and Christmas I enhance my enjoyment of the holidays by writing "shorts" that I then give out to family and friends. Actually my published novel Past Sins began life as a Halloween short back in the early 2000's. The following sci-fi and horror short Desert Getaway, was written near the end of the 1990's. You will see references of the LA riots, etc. but this does not (in my opinion) detract from the overall story. Actually I am currently working on a "short" but it is not done yet so I thought I would post this one up here. I never really released this before so you all are seeing it for the first time. Hope you enjoy it and Happy Halloween!

A Weekend Getaway

An original short story by Don F. Ecker

"IT" became conscious in what other domains would have described as very early morning. At
first there was no knowing.... but confusion and fear raced through its mind. The thoughts IT had
were not formed in words.... it was not sure it knew or ....... remembered words. More like
concepts. Concepts and perhaps some would call them pictures formed..... not words. Desperately
IT tried to remember....the before. No physical feelings had yet manifested themselves. IT did not
even know if its eyes were open. The sensations were of DARKNESS....FLOATING....and
CONFUSION.

Slowly anger began to build. Anger and RAGE.... Since there was no sensation
of FEELING, IT did not yet know if it had limbs. Attempting to recall what IT thought it once
knew, IT lay there (it was lying, was it not?) and tried to remember. However the remembering
would not come and the anger and rage continued to build. There was something else..... IT knew
somewhere deep down inside that there should be a KNOWING..... but of WHAT? And it felt
...... LOWER.... as if it slipped DOWN into another place. This place felt LOWER but lower than
what, IT did not yet know nor remember. Time had no reference nor any meaning. IT was not
aware how long it had been in this place, or even where this place was. With no other sensory
information available, IT was now content to wait secure in its ANGER and RAGE. IT knew that
soon or later understanding would come.

A time later... AN IMAGE! Without warning IT remembered....a place. Flames, tall structures
sprouting....FIRE..cries from....beings and IT creeping down a long corridor...searching for...a
being. IT did not remember why, hence more confusion. IT knew it must preform...a task. Then
IT realized something else... IT could TASTE this memory. IT could smell the flames and the
burning structures. Excitement began to rage inside it. IT realized for the first time since IT
awakened....it breathed and its breath raced in and out! But what was this place...memory....task?
There must be more...has to be more.... and in frustration it SCREAMED!! With that verbal
release and horrible rage that had been contained inside, IT realized that it did feel....limbs. With
great effort it heaved out and up a viscous fluid from deep inside itself. IT had been lying in a
shallow depression covered by a fluid. All of IT had been covered to its....HEAD? A great
weariness now encompassed IT. With the discovery of independent movement IT could now lie
back and afford to wait. Now it was sure that other revelations MUST follow. IT would wait.

Samantha stood up from the campfire and stretched. Looking at her watch she observed that the
time was only 9:35 PM. But she was tired. God what a day, she thought. First the damned flat tire
on her truck, then the Beast (her affectionate name for the truck) overheats in this damned desert
air, then finding a good camping site. Now I am here in the middle of no where and screw the rest
of LA! Looking over at Bobbi, she wondered what would come next. Up until just recently she
had been a very happy heterosexual woman. Or so she thought. Her partner of two years Lance
Rogers had certainly surprised her. Samantha worked at one of the major LA studios as a creative
consultant for a fairly successful one hour adult drama series. Lance (who's real name was Walter
Beasom) was a struggling actor who literally charmed her pants off. Working on one episode as a
street hoodlum Lance (she preferred to more glamorous Lance to the pedestrian Walter) had
invited her out for a coffee latte which to her bemusement she accepted. He was good looking
and charming. After two dates she ended up sleeping with him and things took off. Lance also
worked waiting jobs between acting jobs to "Keep that frigging wolf from the door" but she had
always felt there was another side to him. Well true, he had a mild cocain habit which she did not
like. As a matter of fact she had warned him not to bring it home, but the warning was not too
strong. One night after they had drunk a bottle of Chardonnay he pulled a vial of coke out and
asked her to try it. She at first refused but then after he snorted a line and continued to persist she
figured what the hell. He handed her a McDonald's drink straw that he had cut in half and
instructed her to bend over the table and snort it up her nostril. As she did suddenly she had a
horrible sneeze and blew over $200.00 worth of cocain all over the carpet! In retrospect she
smiled but at the time Lance became almost crazy with rage. JESUS CHRIST YOU STUPID
BITCH! LOOK AT WHAT THE HELL YOU DID!! Things changed from then on. She couldn't
quite point her finger at when the differences happened but she always remembered this incident.

Lance had always been obsessed with one thing. He wanted to be a STAR. She tried to be
reasonable when he was fired from several waiter jobs because as he explained "Baby, the deal in
this town is networking! Who gives a DAMN about slopping dirty dishes when I need to be out
there meeting people. "It ain't who ya know but who ya blow" he was fond of saying. But then
she thought warily, that ain't necessarily so. She had gotten done early with work on a Friday
afternoon, and thinking that Lance was at his newest part time job, decided to go home early and
catch a quick nap then prepare a modest dinner. Loving to cook Samantha loved to test new
recipes she found. Walking into the front door she had noticed a new Lexis parked on the street
and Lances motorcycle in there driveway. Wondering what she would find inside she quietly
opened the door and walked inside. Hearing groans from the bedroom she walked over and
pushed the partially closed bedroom door open. Expecting to see Lance with another woman she
was frozen with shock when she saw the man she thought she might possible marry with his head
buried into the groin of another man, bobbing up and down.The other man was older than Lance
and had both hands on Lances head helping him move up and down on his semi erect penis.
Suddenly the shock wore off and she screamed! The strange mans eyes popped open and he tried
to jump up! When he did Lance attempted to jump to the side of the bed but one of the strangers
knees struck Lance in the side of the head and he involuntary bit down. Now the other man
screamed and what had been shocking now turned ugly. Lance fell off the bed and looked up.
Seeing Samantha standing there covering her mouth with both hands he jumped up and
backhanded her out of the doorway. The other man was groaning and shouting curses when for a
split second she recognized him. A married producer with two children. An inane thought coursed
through her mind that he produced one of the newer sit coms on a competing network. As the
producer hobbled about she noticed that Lance must have really bitten down hard because the
man had blood showing through his hastily retrieved underwear. Speaking of blood she suddenly
realized she was bleeding. When Lance backhanded her, he struck her nose which was now
bleeding freely. She ran to the kitchen and turned on the water and began to attempt to stanch the
flow of blood. She was not sure just what she felt then. Shock and confusion to be sure. But then
a great hollow emptiness filled her. She heard the front door open and someone leave. Lance
stuck his head in the door of the kitchen and said he would be back later to get his things. She
said nothing, and as a matter of fact the only thing she would ever say to him again was to leave
the keys by the front door. Two days later he did when he picked up the rest of his things. He
tried to speak to her but she knew there was nothing to say. As a matter of fact later that evening
she felt a strange but undeniable sense of freedom. The sex had been good for a while but she
could not deny that a sense of impending....not doom but something not good had stayed with her
for several months prior to (as she was now to think of it) "The Incident!"

Bobbi MacGregor was a new writer with Samantha's program. A twenty seven year old divorcee
"with no brats thank God!", had come on board just two months earlier. Hearing what had
happened to Sam, Bobbi suggested they "shake the stink of LA off" and take a two day camping
trip out into the desert. "Just the place to clear your head" Bobbi was to say. Having been born
and spending most of her life in Utah, Bobbi had a long history of recreating in the "great
outdoors". "My pop had three daughters and since he couldn't sire any males, we became his
surrogate boys club" she was to boast. Fishing, camping, and learning how to shoot .22 caliber
rifles was my whole adolescent" "I think when I developed breasts Pop was heartbroken!" she
was to say with a snicker. Samantha also enjoyed the great outdoors. That was the biggest reason
she bought "the Beast". Lance used to chide her about the truck. "You should at least get a Jeep
if you want something like that. For GOD's sake a Jeep is at least trendy" but she wouldn't
budge. As for the other outdoorsy stuff, she picked up lanterns and cooking gear over the last few
years for those times when she really wanted to shake out the cobwebs. The one thing she didn't
broadcast however was the Colt .357 Python revolver. Having survived the LA riots, she
suddenly decided better politically incorrect than dead. Taking shooting lessons at a local gun
range, and (God forbid if the studio found out) she joined the NRA. She found that she enjoyed
the feeling of mastery she achieved when she learned the fundamental's of combat shooting. The
Colt Python was the "King" of revolvers. Finding a 4 inch barreled version in a Burbank gun
shop, she hesitated at the $550.00 price tag.

cont. next

 

[Decker]

Continued...

"Hey lady" the clerk had said, "This was owned by a LAPD detective. He traded it for a Sig Sauer
9MM, but for my money I would have stuck with the Colt. Ain't it just be ute if full? And trust me,
you won't ever find another Python for this cheap!"

And she had to agree, the Colt was a beautiful handgun. She picked it up feeling the weight. The dee
blue of the pistol did evoke images of royal blue. It felt rather heavy but the clerk informed her the
weight absorbed the recoil when firing.

"Now this is a .357 caliber, a magnum cartridge. But what is nice about this is that the .357 is just an
overgrown .38 special. The .38 is a great accurate round. In this gun you won't feel any recoil. So what do
you want it for? The riots make ya nervous? I know they did me!"

"Well, you know, I live alone and after the trouble was over I realized that had something happened in my
neighborhood, well I don't know what I could have done."

The clerk leaned over and in a conspiratorial almost stage whisper said "Look. I will tell you what I will
do. You know California has a waiting period before you can take your gun home. If you want to buy this I will
predate your papers so you won't have to wait the whole 15 days. Have you ever shot before?" he asked.

"No, well just a .22 when I was a teenager."
"Ok, I will tell you what. You fill out the paper work, here , here are the forms. Pay for the pistol and I will
throw in two boxes of .38 Special 110 grain Plus P ammo."

"What's that?" she asked arching an eyebrow.

"This is really good stopping stuff."

"Stopping stuff?" she asked again, this time arching the other eyebrow.

"Yea, you know if you got to shoot, and if you hit him, you know....stopping stuff!"

"Oh, ok I understand." she answered. (Thinking inanely of Sonny Crockett on the canceled Miami Vice.)

"I will give you an address of a shooting club up above Lakeview Terrace, about 20 minutes from here.
I have a buddy that is a shooting instructor there and will have him give you some shooting lessons."

"What's it cost?" she now suspected more costs to crop up.

Eyeing her up and down he smiled and said "Well I think Dick would not charge you anything for a couple of
lessons. But you might want to join the club and might even enjoy shooting every couple of weeks or so just
to learn all the fundamentals, and, eh, you know to keep your hand in. Anyway they reload ammo up there and
it is a lot cheaper than having to buy new stuff all the time."

And to her surprise she did enjoy it. She ended up taking the shooting courses the club offered, and the NRA
safety courses. And the shooting was more fun than she would ever have believed. But she did end up buying some
shooting glasses, ear protectors, and of course gun cleaning gear. But that even ended up being an enjoyable
exercise. "Only in LA!" she was to say while holding a huge grin in place.


Stepping up to the top of the small knoll the man stopped when he observed what looked like a
campfire in the distance. Crouching down he removed a pair of binoculars from a knapsack and
observed the scene. Seeing what appeared to be two people at the fire, he sat down and took a
drink of water from the canteen attached to a military style web belt. Looking first at the sky then
at his watch he considered the possibilities. He pulled a GPS device from his knap sack and
checked his location.

"Almost on time" he muttered. "Damn it, there isn't supposed to be anyone within 10 miles!" he ruefully said.
But as in all plans, always bet something will be there to screw it up.

"I could go around them, but they are still in the target zone" he thought. Knowing that his
principals would not tolerate foul ups he hesitated. Then thought the hell with it. He removed a
small radio from his shirt pocket and keyed the transmit button.

"Tracker one to Impact".

"Go ahead Tracker" came back almost immediately.

"Impact, I am approximately 1 klick from ground zero, but have civilians in the area. Two campers.
What do you advise?"

"Wait one Tracker" came the immediate reply. 30 seconds later his answer came.

"Tracker, approach the civilians and ID yourself as a Marine from 29 Palms. Tell them they are in an area
conducting military maneuvers and they must leave at once! If there is any difficulty in their leaving,
terminate. This project can't be compromised. Acknowledge."

"Well, that is sure as hell final" he thought. "Roger that Impact" he responded. Taking his binoculars
and conducting a full 360 degree sweep, he put them away and began to approach the camp site.


"Think we need to put any more wood on the fire?" Bobbi asked Sam? "It is getting cooler."
"Well, you can if you want but I thought about taking my binoculars and going over to the other
side of the Beast and doing a little star watching. You know this desert is just fantastic, it is
simply impossible to see the sky like this from the city." Samantha reached into her knapsack and
pulled out her binoculars and removed them from the case. Hanging them over her neck she
started to stand up. She felt her revolver ride up under her jacket and reached inside and
straightened it on her belt. "Geeze Sam, isn't that thing heavy and bulky?" "If you want a gun,
why not get something a little smaller?" Bobbi asked grinning. She knew that Samantha really was
proud of her burgeoning skill with the pistol and claimed that it really wasn't so heavy to lug
around. "Well Bobbi, I like this thing, and you know, we are in the desert. Ever hear of coyotes,
rattlers, things that sting, claw and bite?" This last in a heavy western accent then a bit of a giggle
tacked on.

"I'll tell ya what Daniel Boone, you go check the stars and chase away the varments and I will get
the victuals and potable libations ready. Okay?" Bobbi laughed and Samantha walked the 25 yards
or so to the other side of the truck to get away from the firelight. Hopping up on the lowered gate
of the pickup she waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Lifting the binoculars to her eyes
she began to scan the sky. It was a breathtakingly beautiful evening sky. Clear with just a touch of
breeze, thousands upon thousands of stars were strewn across the firmament. Samantha was
facing the west and putting the binoculars to her eyes she began to scan the heavens. Bracing
herself against the pickup bed and side, so as to hold the glasses as still as possible, she began
looking at a quadrant of sky. Other than dozens of stars she saw nothing that caught her attention
so she moved the glasses to her left. Once again she really concentrated on "seeing" when a small
star seemed to move. Lowering the glasses, she rubbed at her eyes and then raised the binoculars
again. Looking at the same piece of sky she was able to locate the small "star" and yes it was
moving. "It must be a satellite" she thought excitedly and continued to look. From her vantage
point it appeared that the "star" was diving toward her. It looked like it was approaching the
earth. "Wait a minute" she thought to herself. "That can't be a satellite, satellites don't dive
toward earth and if they do they burn up, don't they?" She was becoming a bit confused, still
watching "it" as it appeared to be growing in light intensity just a bit. "I think I will just watch this
for a minute or so longer, and if it keeps heading this way I will get Bobbi to look at it. Wow, I
wonder what this thing is?" she said rhetorically.

The lone man was walking carefully as he approached the campsite. He had entered a small draw
and in fairly long strides crossed over the top where he stopped. He pulled his binoculars out to
once again scan the campsite. He was now only about 150 yards from the site, so was able to get
a very detailed view. He saw a young woman placing some wood in the fire pit and stirring at the
burning embers. He looked around for the other person but did not see anyone. Thinking that the
other person may have been taking a "comfort stop" out in the bushes, he began to walk toward
the camp site. He reached inside his jacket and felt the weight of his Glock 9MM handgun. It was
in a perpetual state of ready with a round in the chamber and a full magazine in the grip. He
unsealed the velcro strap holding the pistol in the holster until it was just loose enough to pull free
with a moderate tug. Walking toward the campsite he looked at the luminous face on his
wristwatch to check his time. He was beginning to feel apprehensive as the time was fleeting by.
He saw that he would be just up against the impact deadline and began to wonder if it would not
be easier to just kill the two campers? Even if he were there now, he doubted that they would be
far enough away when the "event" occurred. Glancing at the western sky he picked up his pace.

"IT" felt itself growing in weight. The pull of gravity was growing by leaps and bounds. Still
attempting to understand its circumstances, this new sensation was not pleasant, and it grew with
each passing moment. Lying back into the viscous fluid it first found itself helped somewhat. The
fluid seemed to permeate the cells of its body, energizing and perhaps....healing? It still could not
remember the things that it SHOULD remember, not sure of why it was here or what it would do
when it got to were ever it was heading. No feeling of up or down or what should have been the
"correct" spaces and dimensions. Now it felt some apprehension and uncertainty. Now that was a
strange sensation. It could not recall ever having such sensations as this. It knew somewhere deep
inside it that it had a purpose. A great purpose! But whatever the purpose was, it was at a loss to
comprehend it now. So without further thought, IT prepared to wait once again, now trusting that
it would become clear when the time, moment, or place was right.

"Ah, excuse me Miss? Oh Miss?" Bobbi jumped and looked to her right, seeing a tall man walking in from
the inky black desert. "Oh, you frighted me! Can I help you?" she asked tentatively. Tall and clean shaven,
she saw he was dressed in what appeared to be a desert patterned Army uniform. She also noticed he had a pair
of binoculars around his neck and had a backpack slung over his shoulders. "Miss, I am Staff Sergeant MacCleary,
United States Marine Corp. We are conducting a desert night maneuver in this area out of 29 Palms. In other words
you are in a restricted area. Is there anyone else with you?" Now Bobbi began to breathe a little easier thinking
"Ah, the Marines." "Oh Sergeant, I am sorry! We didn't know, we just came out here in the desert to get out of LA
for a day or so, do a little star watching, cook over a campfire, ah, well nobody told us the Army, eh I mean Marines,
ah, was out here doing anything." "Damnit, I am babbling!" she thought to herself. "He is going to think I am some
damned airhead!" Quickly trying to recover she said "Ah, well Sergeant it is just me and my friend Samantha. She is
over there by the truck star gazing." The man glanced over the camp seeing that no one else was around, then looked
at the truck reflected in the firelight. "Oh, so it is just the two of you, huh?" He reached inside his jacket and Bobbi
looking over at where Samantha was said "Yep, just the two of us, and we can get this stuff loaded......." Pulling the
Glock out of its holster with a quick tug, he pointed it at the back of her head and pulled the trigger. "BLAM."
The recoil jerked his hand and the shell casing flew off to the side tinkling as it bounced off a rock. The bullet hit
Bobbi just behind her right ear driving her off her knees, throwing her face down into the sand. She quivered for a moment
then was still. Now quickly looking around for the other target, he started to trot the 25 yards to the truck.

Samantha was avidly watching the "falling star" when she thought she heard Bobbi talking. Then she heard a mans voice
and pulling the binoculars from her eyes she turned back to the campsite to see what was going on. In just a second or
two she thought "Huh, someone else here? Can't be, I would have seen a car if they drove up!" The much brighter campfire
made her squint for a moment while her eyes adjusted, then she looked again and yes, there was somebody there. Suddenly
apprehensive, she put the glasses back to her eyes and took a look. "He looks like a soldier" she thought. AAh geeze,
I hope we aren't on military property!" she mumbled. She saw Bobbi look her way talking, then the man said something then
reached into his jacket. Suddenly he pulled a GUN out as her unbelieving eyes took in the scene, he shot Bobbi in the back
of the head. She started to scream and caught herself. Almost succumbing to a mind numbing fear, instinctively she knew if
she did, she would die. Unbelieving eyes now witnessed the man jogging toward her. She jumped off the tailgate of the truck
and crouched. Suddenly she grabbed for her pistol, never really deep inside her, thinking she truly would need it to save her
life. Almost paralyzed with fear, she knew if she didn't act now she may never have another chance. She stood straight up and
remembering her shooting classes took a modified "Weaver stance." She raised the pistol with both hands, squinting her left eye
almost closed, and aimed dead center in the mans chest. Gulping a breath of air she jerked the trigger. BANG! The Colt Python
jumped in her hand as she flinched with the guns explosive bark. Suddenly she didn't see the man. Thinking she hit him, she ran
around the truck to see where he was. "You BITCH!" he screamed from the ground. Looking down she saw him pointing at her,
then heard thunder and saw a small sun. BLAM! Something burned her between her left arm and chest, then she was looking at the
sky. "My God, he shot me!" she thought incoherently. Rolling over, she climbed to her knees in an attempt to stand back up.
Looking over at the man she saw him holding his hand over his shoulder, apparently trying to stop a flow of blood. "I did hit him"
she thought with some satisfaction. "Ok, well then Goddamn him, lets do it again!" Now more angry than terrified, she picked up her
pistol and aimed dead at him. He was now less than 10 yards from her. "Hey you son-ov-a-bitch! Does it hurt?" He jumped at her
voice and grabbed his pistol off his lap. BANG! "Your too late....Bastard!" BANG! BANG! The bullets all struck the man in his chest
area. He flopped in the dirt.

Looking at herself, Sam realized the mans bullet creased her between the arm and chest. It bleed freely but she didn't think any
real life threatening damage was done. But suddenly she thought "How can I see this in the dark, well because it isn't dark! The
whole sky was becoming light with what appeared to be a fireball descending. Climbing to her feet, she stumbled over to see if she
could help Bobbi. Reaching her, she knelt down and touched Bobbi on the shoulder. "Bobbi? Bobbi, can you hear me?" She started to
roll Bobbi over but then saw the damage to the front of Bobbi's face. "OH MY GOD!" she screamed. Breaking out in tears she slumped
down beside her friend.

The helicopter circled in from the south. It was completely blacked out, the pilot flying using military night vision glasses. The
"bird" was a converted Bell Huey Helicopter painted completely black and the navigation lights that by federal law had to be lit were
blacked out. Sitting behind the pilot in the cargo compartment sat 5 men. All were dressed in military chemical warfare suits, but as
yet were bareheaded except for one man sitting facing the front. Older than the rest by at least 15 to 20 years, he wore a flight helmet
with microphone attached over steel grey hair. "Pilot, have you contacted Tracker One yet?" he spit out in clipped phrases. "No Sir, not
as yet. However I have heard from Trackers 3, 4, and 5. All are on in inbound route to the Impact Site." "Alright, but I want Tracker One
on radio ASAP!" The man was obviously the leader of this group, and he was not in a good mood. "Dammit, we are up against a time limit and
I NEED to know if the site is secure! GET HIM!" The chopper pilot was aware of the temper of this passenger and quickly responded "Yes Sir!"
Once again the pilot keyed his microphone and called out over the encrypted frequency.

The Leader now turned to the other 4 men sitting around him. "Alright" he shouted to be heard over the choppers engine noise. "We will be
on site very shortly. You three" he said pointing to three men holding silenced HK MP 5 submachineguns, "You three will quickly preform
a perimeter search around the coordinates. I want to make sure we have this area air-tight before we bring in the other "birds" with the
special teams on them." "Any questions?" One man, several years older than the others nodded his head and asked; "Sir, we know this is Cosmic
Top Secret, but can you tell us anything else? I mean we know something is coming down there, but can you give us a hint as to what we may
encounter?" The Leader glared at the man that just spoke and using his eyes to intimidate (he was a past master at this technique) rolled over
in his mind just how much he could tell them now that they were almost there. Thinking over all the years he was involved in covert operations,
and all the times that things might go wrong because the people sitting on the "sharp end" didn't have all the information they might need to
carry out their assignment, he decided to chance it.

"A very unusual craft will be landing out here, one that is here by mistake. On board this, uh....craft, is .." he caught himself now, not quite
sure how to proceed. Even over the cold air blowing into the Huey, his forehead broke out into a sweat and his stomach heaved. A...an animal maybe,
or ah, something that if it gets loose .. we all will be in very HEAVY DEEP SHIT." Now the four men looked at each other. This man was known for
his temper but very rarely was he known for such crude profanity. He could strip the skin off an old alligator, it was said, just by the tone
of his voice. "We were ah, contacted by a group that presently is ah, experiencing internal dissension. In other words, they are the next thing
to rebels. This was launched at us because the ah, rebels, ah" he stopped because they were all looking at him like he suddenly sprouted three
heads. Jesus, he FELT like he sprouted three heads. Sucking up he continued "The rebels knew that if they launched this thing at us, the ah, control
group would have to stop what they were doing to stop this thing. The problem is they can't. So now we are stuck with this. And I am now going to
be completely honest Gentlemen, if we don't contain this tonight, we may not have to worry about this later, there may not be a later."

The four men were now speechless. This was the most amazing sight any of them had ever witnessed. The man sitting with them that had just finished
this amazing little dissertation was arguably one of the most powerful men in North America. The second in command then chanced to ask "Ah Sir,
is this a Russian operation? Former Soviets out to even the score, bring back the old Soviet Empire?" All the while the Second was trying to figure
out what in the hell kind of animal the Boss could be talking about. The pilot interrupted over the helmet intercom before he could answer.
"Sir, we are now about 45 seconds out from our LZ. I still have not had contact with Tracker One, but I see what looks like a campfire. And Sir,
something is coming down from the west!"

cont. next

 

[Decker]

Continued...

Sam had been digging into her backpack rummaging for her first aid kit. She found it and pulled the roll of gauze out. She removed her shirt
to look at how bad her wounds were. The bullet had grazed her knocking out a sliver of flesh from her arm and another beneath her armpit. More
blood than damage, she gamely began to wrap her arm still trying to make sense out the nightmare she found herself in. Momentarily forgetting
the light she had been looking at just a couple of minutes more ago, she finished the rough bandage and put her shirt and jacket back on. She
then decided to try to find out who this maniac was that murdered Bobbi and tried to murder her. He hadn't looked like a drug user or street
thug, but then she thought "I really haven't tried to find out what those people looked like." Pulling her pistol out just in case, and wrapping
both hands about the grips, she walked back over to the prone figure on the ground. She kicked at his shoulder saying "Hey!" Feeling like an ass
when he flopped back, she reholstered her gun and knelt down beside his still form. Patting his arms and pockets, not quite sure she really even
knew what she was doing, she felt a hard lump in a side pocket. Reaching into the pocket she pulled out what looked like a small but very fancy
radio. "This guy is no street thug!" she thought. Now that she really looked at him he appeared to be a soldier or something. Close cropped hair,
clean shaven, he looked maybe 30 or 35 years old. Turning the radio around, trying to figure out how it worked, she pressed a likely looking switch.
"Tracker One, this is IMPACT!" came out of the tiny speaker. Still in somewhat of shock, she dropped it. "Come on Sam, pull it together if you want
to get out of this!" she thought to herself. Picking it up she wondered it this guy was "Tracker One." She then saw his black looking automatic pistol
laying there, and wondered if she should leave it. Suddenly it came to her that the sky was becoming lighter. Then she noticed the light from the
west was now very bright. That wasn't all either, now she could hear what sounded like, oh it had been awhile, distant thunder. Except it kept
thundering. The radio spoke again and brought her back to the present "Tracker One, Respond Immediately!" Then it hit her, this wasn't a robbery
or just a random murder, this guy was connected to somebody, probably somebody important and she had a feeling they were coming here! Now she had
only one thought, "I have got to beat feet outta here, NOW!" Jumping up she reached into her pocket looking for her truck keys. Coming up empty she

frantically grabbed her other pants pocket, but no luck. Looking down, no longer undecided she grabbed the pistol laying there and jammed it into
her belt. Running back to Bobbi's body she began to furiously empty her backpack looking for the keys. Then out of the south she heard what sounded
like a helicopter heading her way. Having seen God knew how many news helicopters and police helicopters, for just one second she brightened thinking
maybe it was the police. But for just one second. She could see no lights from the south, and she knew that aircraft were required by law to have
lights on them. Grabbing a canteen, she sprinted over to her truck. She tore the drivers door open hoping against hope the keys were in the ignition.
Not finding them she thought to herself "Sam, take a deep breath! Calm down, you have got the rest of your life to loose it, but GIRL DON'T LOOSE IT
NOW! Now, where in the Hell could they be?" Now the noise from the chopper was getting louder, and looking into the west the light was now a moderately
sized sun. And it was coming right toward her.

"Sir, we are about 20 seconds from touchdown." The pilot knew that his passenger demanded updates, and this operation was one of the weirdest he
could ever remember and he did not want to screw up. "Sir, also Tracker One has not responded yet." Shutting his mouth he decided if the Boss
wanted more from him he could ask. "Alright, do you see anything down there?" "No Sir, just a small campfire, and it looks like it is dying out.
Oh, Sir, I see somebody lying on the ground! It could be Tracker One." The Leader now looked out the side of the chopper and saw the wester sky glowing.

Knowing what was there he gritted his teeth a second and then deciding said, "Alright, hit the campsite with your searchlight, and GET US DOWN! NOW!"
"Yes Sir!" and saying that the pilot hit the switch for the main light. Suddenly the ground looked like a night time football stadium lit by stadium lights.

Flaring out, the chopper's blades created a small sand storm blowing debris everywhere. For a brief moment the campfire flared up with the sudden gust
of wind. It blew embers all around the area, and several started small fires in the dry brush. The three men carrying the automatic weapons cocked the
bolts, and grabbed their chemical suit headgear. Standing up they jumped out the doors just as the chopper was touching down. Quickly looking around,
one man went to the body while the other two jumped into the shadows looking for intruders.

Sam saw the chopper when the brilliant light came on and knew it was too late to find the keys. She ran about 50 yards into the darkness and crouched
down praying there wasn't something waiting there that would bite or sting, then decided nothing out here could be as bad as what was in there.

The Leader stepped out of the helicopter with his aid. Up until this point the aid had been totally unobtrusive. However on the ground he suddenly
became animated. "Sir, the body is that of a young woman." Walking over to a submachinegun armed man he asked, "What have you found?" The man
kneeling by the body stood up and said, "One shot to the rear of the head behind the right ear. The round exited the thru the right cheek bone.
It has to be Tracker One. However, look here." He pointed to the contents of the knap sack strewn around the ground. "And there." pointing to a
bandage wrapper. "And there," pointing to a splash of blood. "..somebody was hurt and doing first aid on themselves. I don't think it was Tracker
One." "Hey! Over here!!" The shout came from the Second. "I found Tracker, looks like he was shot 3 or 4 times. He's wasted!" The Leader walked
into the dark away from the dying embers of the campfire. Pulling a powerful flashlight out of a vest he shined it down on the ground on the dead
mans face. Running the light up and down the torso, he suddenly flicked it out. "Ok, when Tracker One called in last time he reported what looked
like two campers here. Well, we have one body..." and he stopped to look into the western sky, "..and Tracker. That means we have somebody close
here that somehow bested him. You knew Tracker, that would not have been easy. Find out what we are up against, because we only have...." he glanced
at his wrist looking at his watch, "about 4 minutes....at most. The intruder is armed, wait a minute, did you find Trackers armament?" "No Sir, I
checked and it is missing. I found one spent casing...there" he pointed to a shiny 9 MM casing on the ground. "It looks like he was hit with a
9 MM or possibly a .38 caliber. Nice grouping around the sternum. Who ever lit him up knew how to shoot." The Leader looked at the man and remarked
"Yes, well now you better show whomever that you know how to shoot. We have just about 3 minutes, and Gentlemen, the clock is ticking. Oh, yes, one
other thing, in 3 minutes our uninvited guest will touch down." Pointing to the west he said, "and I think you must agree that that object does not
appear to be Russian. It isn't. And the ....... creature that is on it is unlike anything any of us have or will ever see again. Get moving, I have
something to do."

Samantha watched as the helicopter landed. Seeing the men jump out of it, she watched as one ran over to Bobbi, checking her still form. She saw
another head toward her truck and stop when he found the body of the man she shot. Another man, older, joined him and she could just hear them talking.
Fear, terror, and anger raced through her unlike anything she ever felt in her life. Thinking several times in the last 20 minutes that she would
die now clamped around her mind and she decided if it was going to happen, somebody would pay..dammit. She pulled her pistol from the holster and
opened the cylinder to check the cartridges. She pulled the fired ones out, and felt around for her spare ammunition. She had some loose cartridges
in her jacket pocket but when she reached inside the pocket could only find 3. The rest must have fallen out somewhere and it was way too late to
get the box out of her knap sack. "Dammit!" she seethed. She pulled the other pistol out of her belt and looked at it. Seeing the magazine release
she pushed it and the magazine popped out. Not being totally familiar with automatics, she hefted the magazine and it felt heavy. "Almost full"
she breathed. Gingerly she pushed it back into the handle magazine well. She heard it snap in. Carefully she eased the slide back and observed a
shell in the chamber. Looking at her campsite and then at the sky, she began crawling toward her truck.

The grey haired man motioned to his assistant. "Ok, lets get it off the helicopter." They walked to the chopper and motioning
the pilot to assist, they pulled a small but very heavy re-enforced crate out of the cargo space. "Help me move this to the large
boulder over there." Just past the now abandoned campsite, was a large boulder and they dragged the box to it. Turning to the pilot
the grey hair man snapped, "Alright, go monitor the radios. Let me know the positions of the reset of the Trackers." The pilot
trotted back to his ship and the two men began to open the crate. "All right, give me your code card." The assistant reached inside
his shirt and pulled a plastic waffer out. Connected to a chain, he pulled it over his head, then snapped it in two, and
pulled a card out. Handing the card to the Leader, he sat back down. "Sir, do you think we are going to need this?" "I don't know
Gordon" the Leader said. "But you realize what it means if that damned thing gets loose, don't you? When NASA received the message
from them, and they told us what was coming, you know that our Goose is cooked if this thing gets away. My God Man! A genetically
engineered, sentient, biological extraterrestrial killing organism. Do you know what this thing can do?" The assistant Gordon was
shocked at the depth of feeling in his superior that he served with for the last 18 years. He remembered in 1986
(and involuntarily shivered) when the Libyans were caught outside of Baltimore in a yacht with the stolen Soviet warhead. Trying
to get it close enough to shut down the whole eastern seaboard if it had been detonated. This secret like so many would never see the
light of day. But "the Man" (as he often thought of his Boss) had been like the proverbial rock. Now it was if he were coming unraveled.
"A God Damned Alien Monster. Just like some stupid B grade movie from the 1950's, but for God's sake, a real One! The message they sent
said that they used these things for selective strikes. Hell, they have been at war for centuries! Can you believe it?! And they have
dissidents, just like we did in the 60's, and some of them turned one of these things loose. But Gordon, the damned thing is defective!
That's the rub. This one was on an operation, kind of like the Airborne Rangers. It's job was to go in, spread terror, tear things up,
kill indiscriminately and generally raise hell. Oh, eventually their enemy would have killed it, or after a certain point these things are programmed to self

destruct. But this one was damaged, its self destruct feature is gone! But the scary part Gordon, it is
insane." "But sir, why won't they come and get it? I mean they have the weapons that can handle it don't they?" The grey haired man had
removed his own wafer and broke it open. He began to punch in a code on the control panel of the box sitting before them. "Yes Gordon,
they have the weapons, but it seems like right now they are losing their war. According to the message we received, they are only about
two and half light years out from the solar system. And if they loose, the other group they are fighting with will more than likely head
in this way. And from what they told us, even this will look like a picnic if their "friends" drop by for a visit. That is why the
President and Joint Chiefs authorized this. We try to stop it first with conventional weapons. If we don't have any luck, well lets just say this (he patted

the box) should do the trick."

The air was now roaring with the sound of the craft coming down. Flames shot out from the bottom of it, and looking up Sam realized it
had to be some kind of rocket. She saw one of the men with the machine gun sling his gun over his back. He picked up a tube looking thing
and pulling out what looked like pins, extend a tube and start running over toward what was now the landing area. The craft was now less
than two hundred feet in the air and its rate of descent was slowing even further. Suddenly she just knew that this thing was alien! "Oh my
God, how did I end up in the middle of this?" Suddenly she knew what she had to do, or all she perhaps could do. Pulling out her Python
pistol and cocking the hammer, she crouched and ran towards the two men huddled over what looked like a crate. Everybody's attention was
riveted on the descending spaceship. It was obvious to everyone in that part of the desert that this thing was nothing that was ever
manufactured on Earth. Coming up to within 15 feet of the two men, Sam took a Weaver stance, holding the revolver in both hands, and pointed it at the grey

haired man's forehead. "Ok you son-of-a- bitch! Hold it right there or I will shoot your head off!" The Leader
and Gordon both jumped, startled, and looked at Samantha. "One of your goons already shot me tonight thinking I was just some harmless
piece of fluff, and his mistake earned him a spot in the dirt! If you don't take me seriously, I can make that two more!" "Oh Young Lady,
I do take you seriously." It was the older of the two men that spoke. "But do you know what we are dealing with here?" Now Sam was furious.
"This old bastard, who does he think he is?" "You bet I know what WE are dealing with here! Some bastard shot my friend in cold blood and
then he shot me! And unless I passed thru the Looking Glass, I think you all would have shot me again if you had found me!" "Oh, most
assuredly we would have Young Lady. And it would be nothing personal, but simply a matter of the very highest National Security. That object
landing out there" and the old man (and now he really looked his age) "has on it a genetically engineered extraterrestrial creature. A killing machine unlike

anything you could imagine in your life." Suddenly from the shoulders of two of the men out near where
the craft was just touching down, fired rockets at the craft. Both missiles impacted almost simultaneously, creating a tremendous BANG!

The old man looked at Samantha and said, "Don't get nervous Young Lady, but I must call Washington." He reached inside his rubber suit,
and pulled out a small radio like the one she still had in her pocket. "Impact, put an encrypted call back to FULCRUM and patch me through,
then call Dust Bin and bring them in."

An explosion erupted from the spacecraft, and a section of metal blew out striking one of the rocket launchers. He screamed and then lay still.
"You see this device Young Lady? Do you know what this is?" Samantha looked down at the box and noticed digital lit numbers. "Well do you know
what this is?" he asked again. Shaking her head no, Samantha was still weighing whether she was going to shoot this man and his friend or not.
Somewhere in the last ten minutes her mind had made a quantum shift. "Well Young Lady, I will tell you what this is. If that creature on the
craft is not destroyed, this device is to ensure that he dies. Of course some might consider this overkill, but then they would not know what
we truly are faced with. This Young Lady, is a 1.5 kiloton nuclear warhead. And I have just programmed it for detonation. Now I am the only
person on this planet that can stop it. It is my judgement call. You might say I have the fate of the entire world in my hands."
Samantha looked at him in shock. "You mean that is an atomic bomb?" she asked in horror. "You people are going to set off an atomic bomb!?
Are you out of your freaking mind!?" Suddenly she realized that whoever this person was, he had beyond any doubt slipped the bounds of sanity, and more than

likely a long time ago. Suddenly his radio chirped "Sir, Dust Bin in inbound, FULCRUM told me to stand by,
they are patching through National Command Authority!" The pilot knew that NCA was the President.
"Miss, I'll tell you the bottom line because what ever happens here this morning, you will never be aloud to talk about it." He said that
with such finality that Samantha KNEW she would not walk out of here. What ever nightmare she had stumbled into with Bobbi, this probably was
IT! Tears poured out of her eyes, feeling the unfairness and stupidity of it all. "The entity on board that ship is, as I have said, a living
organism programmed for one objective. It kills and destroys. It's body can camouflage itself to its surroundings by chemicals in its body.
It can kill with a touch.." Samantha heard two guns start firing over by what was now the wreak. The old man and the one called Gordon looked over
in that direction. " ...ah, as I was saying it can kill with a touch. It's mind can "reach out" and effect its target by thought projection.
Do you know why the President sent me here?" Suddenly he screamed, "Well GOD DAMMIT! Do YOU?! He knew I was the only man that would do what had
to BE DONE!" Samantha was now looking at him the way a mouse must look at an Owl just before the talons swept it up. "He knows that I won't let
a little thing like death stop me!" Two loud pistol shots rang out from the darkness then an ungodly scream. The old mans had suddenly slammed
down on the device, and he pushed a button. "They didn't kill it you know" he said almost sadly. By now the desert was lit with several burning
fires, casting shadows and smoke about. Sam could hear what sounded like two more helicopters in the distance. "Sir" the radio blurted out.
"It is loose Gordon." Sam looked at the second man who just slumped down. "How long General?" "Oh..." the old man looked at the panel
"58 seconds." Sam jumped "What do you mean?" she screamed. "You turned that thing on? Are you crazy, turn it off. Do you know what you are about
to do?" Now she was furious. "Sir, the National Command Authority is online" the Pilot called over the radio. The old man didn't even look at it,
but stared at Samantha. "I am sorry Miss, I truly am." Sam stared straight into his eyes and said "You turn this damned thing off or you die
right now. Do you realize what this will do if it goes off?" And he sat down and looked up, "Do YOU REALIZE what will happen if it doesn't?"
Sam looked at Gordon. "Can you turn this off?" Gordon just looked at her. Samantha pointed her weapon at Gordon and shot him in the shoulder.
The roar of the gun shocked her when she realized what she did. Then she gritted her teeth over the moaning of the second man and pointed it
at the old man called the General. "Ok General, either you turn that off or you are next!" He looked up at her from the ground and said "Go to
Hell."

After being blown out of IT's compartment by the two explosions, IT suddenly remembered. There was WAR and it was a weapon. It hit the sand
and rolled into a fetal position and Smelled. This place was different, but it liked the air. IT drew in an immense breath, rolled over and
looked around with infrared vision. IT could see several humanoid figures. IT saw that they carried weapons. Standing up to ITS full 7 foot height,
IT felt its body adapt to the surrounding terrain. IT threw its mind at the closest figure while charging at it. IT felt the confusion from
the target then two weapons fired at IT. Several impacts struck the torso area, but IT took only minor notice of them. Reaching the first target
IT grabbed a limb holding the weapon, felt IT's body absorb the necessary information, then IT's long fingers passed through the flesh destroying
the limb to the bone. The target was so shocked he could not even scream, but collapsed to the ground, dying in agony. Turning now to the next target
IT projected its mind, once again feeling the Targets confusion. But this time the Target dropped its weapon, and pulled a smaller one from a container
on his side. The target fired what IT now recognized as a projectile weapon, and felt another impact. IT jumped onto the Target crushing it with IT's
weight. IT felt immense satisfaction realizing that IT had remembered, and these Targets were much easier than the Before. The Target had screamed
when IT landed on him, but was now in the process of dissolving away. IT looked around and saw 3 more Targets in infrared. IT began moving toward them.

Samantha shot him in the knee. "Turn it OFF!" Looking down at the panel she saw seconds ticking off. "31..30..29..28.." Now two more helicopters
were landing beside the first one. Suddenly a voice screamed from her rear, "Freeze Lady! One more move and I'll kill you!" Turning her head
Samantha looked at the Pilot. "You don't know do you?" she asked in a rhetorical tone. "Know what? I know you are about 1 second from meeting
St. Peter!" he yelled. Sam could hear running boots coming toward her. "21..20..19.." was on the panel. Suddenly she just felt tired. Dropping
the gun to the ground she raised her hands. "Ok mister, I give up now what?" The Pilot moved slowly toward her, looking down at the General he
saw that he was grimacing in pain with both hands wrapped around his leg. "What in the Hell did you do?" was the question put to Samantha.
"What the Hell did he do? Look at that damned bomb you idiot! We have...." 12..11..10.." "Oh my God" was all the pilot could say.

IT stopped only feet from this new scene. Seeing more targets, IT began judging which would rate first priority. IT saw that there was a device that
IT could sense held the explosive metal that converted matter to energy. Suddenly IT marveled at this new development. IT waited.

"What the Hell is going on here?" a new voice shouted. A large man holding an M 16 rifle ran up to the small group standing around what he
recognized as a small tactical nuclear device. Looking at the control panel he read "4..3..2.." and Sam spouted off "Welcome to my world
Assholes!"


(BOO !!)

 

[Wade]

Now, aren't all you guys glad I asked? ANDY Williams is right, it is the most wonderful time of the year.