Story Time Read online

  “The only thing I knew was that some sort of crazy school bus had showed up to save the day and, against all odds, my brother Zack was still alive. He was wounded though, and badly. The bullet that knocked him off his feet had gouged a crevasse two inches wide and at least a quarter inch deep from behind his left ear to just past his left eyebrow. Blood was everywhere, and even as I watched and screamed for help, I could see that both of Zack’s eyes were swelling shut.

  Now, it was our people who were blowing car horns in defiance of Trumble’s retreating army. I saw that Steve was running toward some of Harmony’s soldiers, and that Dave was running toward me in alarm, but he was far away. I sobbed and tore a piece of my shirt away to stop the torrent of blood that spilled from my brothers head wound.

  Suddenly, a large nylon bag landed on the ground next to me. A man knelt next to my brother and said, “That’s good, Miss. Hold that there, just like it is, but as hard as you can…don’t rub!”

  I didn’t know this man, but as he opened the bag, I saw a miracle…medical supplies. He reached inside and grabbed some sanitary gloves, a roll of gauze and a small bottle of some sort of disinfectant. As I watched his long, swarthy face and haunted, hollow eyes, I saw all the kindness and grace in the world stamped on his furrowed brow. There was a dirty, tattered yarmulke on the back of his head.

  “Okay,” he murmured. “You can let go now.”

  When I hesitated, he snapped, “Steven, give me a hand, will you?”

  There was another man standing there. This one was short, with red hair and brilliant, green eyes. He had the half-starved look of a recent refugee and tawny freckles marked his pale skin, like a rash. Two cameras were slung around his neck. He dropped another bag, similar to the first, on the ground and said, “Hey… my name’s Steven Cummings and this is my…partner, Andy. Dr. Andrew Grossman. He’s really good, Miss. He’ll help your friend, okay?”

  I realized that these two men had snuck onto the Harmony compound somehow. They were newcomers, trespassers really, and I should be screaming for help…but I could not make myself object, especially since, if this Steven was to be believed, we had finally gained a real doctor with real medical supplies, who was even now trying to save my brother.

  I let go of the bloody rag and sat back on my heels. The doctor peeled the rag back from Zack’s forehead with one hand and sprayed a bright blue liquid over the wound with the other.

  “Steven, if you please?” The red-haired man placed a clean square of sanitary gauze on the wound, while the doctor secured the bandage with a roll of tape. Finished, he turned to me and said, “This man needs stitches, antibiotics and pain meds…right away. I know that you don’t know us, but if you have a clean, sanitary place to take the patient, I can fix him up while my friend explains who we are and how we got here….”

  His words died and I looked up. I was so intent on my brother, and what the doctor was doing. I hadn’t noticed the silence, or the men and rifles that surrounded us. I caught Steve’s eye, and glanced at my brother and at the medical supply bags.

  “We need them, Steve,” I whispered. He nodded.

  “Do we need a backboard, Doctor, or can we carry him into the house?” Steve asked.

  “Normally, I’d say a backboard is always best, but the longer we delay, the higher the risk of infection. Can any of you carry him?” The doctor looked askance at my brother.

  Zack really was a huge kid. He was as tall as my dad and probably weighed in at 250 pounds. I was used to it, so I hardly took notice, but he was taller and heavier than any other man on the ranch. Steven nodded doubtfully, but then another deep voice rumbled,

  “I can do it, ma’am, no problem.” A huge man stood outside the circle. He was tall and muscular, with dark skin and beautiful black eyes. He was surrounded by children, all of whom had black hair and the tawny complexions of American Indians. He was also surrounded by Harmony’s soldiers, although no one seemed too keen on keeping him or the kids in their gun-sights.

  David said, “Naomi. This is Michael Anderson and some kids he found in Deer Park…he was the one who… flew that school bus in here.”

  I stared at the huge, bald man for a second. There were so many questions to ask, but now wasn’t the time. I stood up and said, “Mr. Anderson, thank you for helping us out, but right now can you carry my little brother into the house so the doctor can patch him up?”

  He nodded and searched my face for a moment. Then he bent down and picked Zack up like he weighed no more than a kitten. I wasn’t one to go around judging people’s size, but Michael Anderson had to be almost seven feet tall and weigh in at around 300 pounds. I saw a couple of men raise an eyebrow at Anderson’s strength.

  We all trooped down the back road, through the yard, up the stairs and into the house. Aunt Wendy let out a muffled shriek when she saw Zack. Then she ran into the kitchen and started pouring boiling water out of the kettle on the wood stove into a bowl. I grabbed a quilt off the back of the couch and threw it over the dining room table. The doctor opened his bag of medical supplies and bent over my brother with a syringe, while Wendy handed his friend, Steven, a clean, wet rag.

  “Doctor…” I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “Is my brother going to be all right?”

  Doctor Grossman frowned. “I think so, yes. Barring any infection or undue swelling, this is essentially a graze, and should heal just fine. He will need bed rest, though, for a couple of days, at least. He’s going to have a hell of a headache after the medication wears off.” He went back to work stitching the gash in my brother’s head.

  I was shaking so hard by now with shock and the after-effects of fear, I fell down on the couch with a thump. Steve Zakar and David Tolliver sat next to me. I saw the little kids who accompanied Michael Anderson onto the ranch crowding into the living room behind him. Two little girls literally clung to the man’s legs, like monkeys. Their eyes were round with fear and fatigue.

  “Lori, are you in the kitchen?” I called.

  Before she had a chance to respond, I reached my hands out to the children, and smiled.

  “Come here, you guys,” I urged.

  I saw Michael place hands as big as dinner plates on the little girl’s backs and nudge them toward me. The children came slowly, as shy and timid as wild deer. Finally, when they stood before me, I rose and said, “Welcome to Harmony.” All of the kids stared up at me. One little boy whispered, “We get to stay? I thought the Harmony ranch was closed.” Tears rolled down his cheeks.

  “Of course you get to stay! What would we do without you?” I declared, and laughed when one of the littlest girls popped a thumb in her mouth, reaching an arm around the boy in a hug.

  I could see Lori standing behind the kids now. I stood tall and said, “Now, what I want you to do is follow Auntie Lori into the kitchen and get something to eat, okay? After that, she will help you wash up, and then its naps for all of you! No, no complaining.” I shook my head at the kids who, despite their exhaustion and anxiety, were acting quite normal in their desire not to miss anything new and exciting.

  “Later,” I continued, “after dinner, we can all sit down for story-time. We do that almost every night. It’s fun, you’ll see. But now, off you go…into the kitchen!”

  I glanced up into Michael’s face a couple of times while I spoke to the kids, and felt a burst of pride at the smile he gave me. I was going to help herd the children into the kitchen, but was suddenly almost knocked over by my little brother Josh.

  “Oh Nay…I was so scared! Is Zack going to be okay?” He peered around to stare at Zack, who was complaining loudly now at the two men who were working over him.

  “Ssh…he’s going to be all right, Josh. Let’s go back and talk to him now that he’s awake.” I grabbed Josh’s hand, and we walked over to stand by Zack’s side. Somehow, in the short time I’d looked away, the doctor, or his friend, had shaved the area around the gash, and now about twenty or thirty stitches marked the bullets trajectory. There was mo
re bright blue antiseptic all around the wound and Zack looked madder than a wet hen.

  “Who are these guys, Nay?” he demanded fitfully. “I don’t recognize them…where’s Stevie? We need to check these guys out!”

  Zack was the WORST patient ever…always had been. I looked up at the doctor and shrugged my apology. He grinned, and said, “I think your brother is going to be just fine. Do you mind if I wash up?” I looked at his bloody gloves, and said, “Absolutely! Go upstairs; it’s the first door on the right.”

  He nodded and walked up the stairs. I looked down at Zack’s beloved face and murmured, “That man is a doctor, dummy, and he probably just saved your life. I know you’re a crab when you get hurt, but I want you to be polite and thank him when he comes back down, do you hear me?”

  He nodded and winced. “Yeah…sorry. It just surprised me is all.” Then his swollen eyes closed and he started snoring.

  I stared at him and looked over at the doctor’s friend, Steven. He smiled and said, “Andy gave him a shot to sleep. I think the apology will have to wait for a while.”

  The small, red-haired man sagged suddenly. He swayed against the wall.

  “Hey, help!” I cried, and dashed around the table to help Steven sit down on the nearest chair. Josh took the man’s other arm and together we lowered him into a sitting position.

  “Sorry,” he muttered. “Just felt a little dizzy.” Then the doctor was there and helping his friend put his head down between his knees.

  “Just stay like that for a few minutes, Steven. You’ll feel better, after some food and a little rest.” The doctor looked up at me and whispered, “I know it’s a lot to ask, but do you have some chocolate, or a little sugar? Steven is hypoglycemic…and we ran out of sugar days ago.”

  “Of course…let me find something.” I ran into the kitchen and grabbed a few squares of chocolate out of the pantry. I would have to report the theft to Wendy, but that could wait.

  I handed the chocolate to the doctor and walked back into the living room. Josh had stayed in the kitchen to help with the new kids, and Michael Anderson was speaking softly to Steve and David. Before I sat down, I walked to the window and looked outside. Things were more or less back to normal now. Trumble’s army was nowhere to be seen.

  I rubbed my arms and marveled that we were all still alive. I had truly believed we would not survive Trumble’s attack, but now we had acquired a new doctor, a bunch of little kids and my snoring brother was wounded, but sound.

  “Hey, Naomi, come here. You’ve got to hear what Michael is saying,” The three men looked over at me, while I studied the strange black snow that fell outside. Then, I went and sat between my two lieutenants, Steve Zakar and David Tolliver, while Michael Anderson told the story of his arrival at the ranch.

  Chapter 19

  Michael Anderson and the Tatularians –

  Michael stared at Naomi Adams and for the first time in a long time, he felt tongue-tied. Being tall and handsome was nothing new to him. He wore his good looks like an invisible shield against bigotry and prejudice. His body gave him the confidence to excel in sports and professional basketball had helped him overcome his naturally shy personality, and a tendency, when anxious, to stutter. He was used to having his picture taken; he was on the cover of GQ once, and had lost track of how many times his image graced the covers of Sports Illustrated and ESPN magazine.

  His brief, but highly publicized fling with a supermodel/actress a year ago was front-page fodder for no less than the New York Times, and every time he donated to a charity, armies of paparazzi descended upon him and his team like a hungry flock of screeching sea gulls.

  Michael was used to beautiful women, but this girl rendered him speechless. She looked tired, and dusty. Her long, red hair was pulled back in a messy bun. Twigs and cobwebs had taken up residence in those glossy strands. There was a streak of blood across her nose and forehead. She was shaking and hollow-eyed with fatigue.

  Despite all those things, she was the prettiest girl Michael had ever seen. Her hair was the color of a newly minted penny, and her eyes were as green as olives and flecked with tiny shards of amber and gold. Her nose was straight and narrow with chiseled nostrils; a queen’s nose, Michael’s grandma would have said. Maybe her cheekbones were too wide, and her chin was too pointed, but Michael knew he was in the presence of one of the planet’s most beautiful women.

  That woman and her two bodyguards were staring at him, and Michael cleared his throat in embarrassment. He realized that he had been staring at Naomi for some time now, and both of the men that sat at her side were gazing at him with varying degrees of exasperation and amusement.

  “Ma’am, my name is Michael Anderson. I used to play for the Denver Nuggets. I don’t suppose that team even exists anymore, what with everything that’s happened. Anyway, after the big earthquakes, my brother Gary….”

  For a moment, Michael’s throat slammed shut in grief, and he ran a shaking hand over his eyes. Naomi watched as the emotions ran like escaping animals across the big man’s face and eyes, and looked away in sympathy. She knew that Michael’s brother must have died. She felt the grief of her Uncle Allen’s death all over again.

  Michael shook his shoulders. He said, “Sorry. My brother Gary…he was killed just yesterday. I still haven’t come to grips with it. Anyway, my brother and I left Denver on the 17th of September and started making our way north to Spokane to try and help our family. They’re gone too,” he sighed. “What I really wanted to talk to you guys about though, is what Gary and I found out as we made our way up here. Maybe you know the things I’m about to tell you, maybe not, but it’s pretty important…at least my friends seem to think so.”

  “Go on,” Naomi urged quietly.

  Michael nodded. “Well, about 150 miles north of Denver we were almost roasted alive by the Tatulori gunships. Do you folks know about the different aliens that are out there now?”

  Steve shrugged and answered, “We were getting regular updates off the radio, but mostly what we know is speculation and rumor. Do you know the real scoop on those things?”

  Michael looked away for a moment and a faint smile etched his cheeks.

  “Yes,” his voice rumbled with certainty. “I think I know exactly what’s going on. I got my information from the source.”

  “Who is this source, Mr. Anderson?” Naomi asked.

  “Miss, it’s all going to sound so crazy, I think it’s best to go one step at a time, okay?” His brown eyes pleaded for understanding. Naomi shrugged and smiled in acceptance.

  “You know that there at least four different kinds of aliens here, right? There are the Tatularians, the Urkuli, The Dizoramulans and the Tatulori. Three of those are here to harvest the planets magnetic forces. They have no interest in us except when we get in their way. Then…well, you can probably guess what happens. One of the species of aliens, though, is Tatularian. They are these tiny, little things…cousins, or something, to the Tatulori warriors. Two of these little guys took an interest in me and my brother.”

  Michael sighed and stared out the window for a moment. “They saved our bacon more times than I can count. Once at a rest stop, Gary and I were jumped by some people. I’m sure that we were both shot dead, but the Tats cured us and sent us on our way!”

  Steve and David must have exchanged a skeptical glance, because Michael suddenly looked angry. “Think what you like, guys, but you better keep an open mind and listen to what I say, because Auntie and Uncle are fixin’ to save your butts, too!”

  “Auntie and Uncle….” Naomi whispered. She really liked this guy, and wanted him to stick around, but if he kept spouting off crazy things, Steve and David were going to give him the boot in spite of the fact that he saved Harmony’s collective ass, in Trumble’s aborted military takeover.

  Michael nodded. “Yes…now listen up, all of you. These two aliens call themselves bookkeepers. I think they are a lot more than that, but there are no words to describe what they really a
re. They single-handedly wrestled my brother and me from Denver, Colorado to here. They healed us from bullet wounds, and put our car in a force field so we could travel here safely. They gave us this amazing weapon…anyway.” Michael frowned, and shook his head, “The whole time they were showing us what they know about humans, the planet earth, the other aliens and what they want, and what is going to happen. They don’t have names, not like we do anyway, so they allowed me and the kids to call them Uncle and Auntie. I think they are married, but I never had the nerve to ask. They have this view screen thing, and Gary and I got to look at it.”

  Michael stopped speaking when David asked, “How is that? Did you go up in their ship?”

  Michael grinned. “No! Those ships are tiny, like maybe only a dozen feet in circumference, tops. I don’t think any human could fit in one, much less someone my size. No, believe it or not, they placed this view screen inside of my car. Every time they wanted to talk to us or show us something, they showed it on the screen. Except for yesterday, that is, but I’ll get to that later.

  “Somehow, and this is where it gets weird, the Tats can see into the future.” Michael held his hands up at the shocked and dubious expressions on his audience’s faces. “I know! It’s weird, but like I said, I think the Tats are way more than bookkeepers. Anyway, bottom line is the Yellowstone caldera is going to blow any day now, okay? I was there…I saw it happen! When it does, things are going to go from bad to worse. Auntie and Uncle say that the planet will not survive.” He gazed into Naomi’s deep, green eyes and watched as her tears spilled over her thin cheeks. “For some reason,” he continued, “you people, and the kids I brought here today, and me are in what they call ‘the continuum’. They think that we are going to survive into the future. We are important, I guess.”

  The two men who flanked Naomi sat in silence while she wept. Both of them still seemed skeptical. Michael knew the time had come.