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  “Go away!” I tried to shout, but the words came out as a whimper.

  In answer, my uncle opened the door, came over to the bed, lifted me and all my sheets and blankets up in his arms, and carried me downstairs.

  “No! Leave me alone! Put me down!” I punctuated my orders with my fists, trying to fight my way out of his arms, but his chest and shoulders were like a brick wall, implacable and uncaring.

  My right hand flopped loose from my uncle’s grip. I felt another hand grip mine. This hand was smaller than mine, rough to the touch and infinitely tender.

  “Ssh, Naomi. It’s all right. Look, we’ve got something to show you.” Josh’s voice warbled from reedy tenor to bass. I peered down at him. When had my little brother’s voice begun to change? He saw me looking at him from the blankets folds and winked.

  Someone hauled the front door open, and we emerged into a beautiful early autumn morning. I looked around at the beehive of activity in the front yard and all around the farm. There were new fences and I could see that there were at least ten cabins being built. The post and rail fence around the main house was being added on to. Now the fence was ten to twelve feet tall and reinforced with long strands of barb-wire. The noise was almost deafening; hammer-falls, the cricketing sound of saws biting wood, the splintering crack of axes, the blissful lowing of the cows being milked, the magpie chirp of women visiting while washing clothes in the water troughs…it was all too much. I buried my face in my uncle’s shoulder, and moaned.

  “Take me back to my room,” I sobbed. “I don’t want to see—”

  My uncle gave my body a little shake and said, “Naomi, look!”

  I shook my head, and I heard his growl. “You will stand up now, girl, do you hear me? The only thing keeping this place going is leadership. This is your place, Naomi…yours and your brothers’. You have to stay strong or everything will fall down! Don’t you see? This whole thing, this whole…concept, is based on faith. Hope! If you give in to despair now, you will not only let your family down, but all these other folks too! These people who have thrown their lot in with ours! Now, STAND UP!”

  Allen set me down on my feet. I almost fell, but he held me up. I saw Josh and Zack and my aunt Wendy and the twins. Lori, Lindsay and baby Levi were there too. My family surrounded me like an honor guard. I looked past their drawn, worried faces and saw that many other people were gathered around, as well. People all over the farm stopped what they were doing and stared at me. For a moment, I wanted to flee back into the house, slamming the door on their anxiety, but some kernel of pride kept me rooted in place.

  My uncle’s face creased in a smile. He nodded and said, “Good girl. Now, I want you to turn around and wave at the people.”

  I gulped, thinking, Why does this have to happen to me? Why do I have to be the strong one? I’m so scared… Then I turned around, and gave a little wave at the people who watched.

  To my amazement, the people began to applaud and cheer. The noise was deafening, and I realized that there must be over 300 people housed within the compound walls now. Smiles lit the haunted faces, and someone started banging an iron rod on the dinner bell.

  The clamor continued for another minute or two. My uncle raised his arm for silence. “Thanks folks,” he said. “Go back to your work now, and let the family visit, okay?”

  “Let’s go inside now and talk,” my aunt Wendy said, adding, “Besides, this girl needs something in her belly.”

  As we turned to walk inside, my eye caught on something. I spun around and regarded the stuffed lion’s heads that perched like birds on the high posts at both sides of the main gates. The science teacher had done a good job. The sun caught the amber fur and reflected off the glass eyes with an unearthly glow.

  For a moment, I felt nothing but sorrow. Then, I realized that what my uncle had done by preserving these creatures was a stroke of psychological genius. All but one of us had survived the encounter with the beasts. I knew it could have been much worse. The victors could now boast of their prowess by displaying these trophies to the world outside. They were meant to be a totem of strength, perseverance and ferocity, both to those within the walls and without. For me anyway, it worked. I stood up straight, gave Henry a final wave of farewell, and followed my family inside for lunch.

  I wolfed down two large bowls of stew and ate three slices of bread with peach preserves while Uncle Allen and my brothers discussed events and news from the outside world. Apparently, the news of an alien invasion was all too real. I listened with growing alarm as my uncle explained the latest theories. I watched my little brother’s face and realized that his joy had diminished with the latest news reports, and was replaced with hatred and anger over what the celestial interlopers were doing to the planet.

  “I guess they’re harvesting something, Nay,” my uncle continued. “No one is exactly sure what, but some scientists out of WSU think that they are pulling magnetic energy from the earth’s core. It doesn’t look like they are going after people, but Heaven help you if you get in their way. They bring these big ships in after clearing the area and send these long arms, or drills, down into the ground. Everything, absolutely everything, goes up into the ships; people, buildings, animals, rocks, trees, dirt…it all goes up into the ships and then after a few minutes it all comes back down again, but it’s like an oily sludge.”

  He paused and took a drink from his coffee cup. I couldn’t help but notice that Allen had lost a lot of weight. His hand trembled as he lifted his cup. Zack, too, seemed like a stranger to me now. He had let his beard grow out, and his reddish-gold hair was held back by a sweat-stained bandana. It was his eyes though, that frightened me. They were cold, watchful, and stared out from his lean face with the angry intensity of a starving wolf.

  “Have there been any alien sightings here?” I asked.

  All three men nodded. Josh said, “Yeah, almost every day now. We have to be really careful when we go out…mainly so we don’t get in the way of falling debris.”

  “Debris…what do you mean? Are they harvesting here, now?” I wondered how I could have missed so much in just five days.

  “No,” Uncle Allen said. “We don’t think so anyway, at least not yet. What I forgot to tell you is that there is more than one kind of alien. They seem to be fighting one another, as much as anything else. Maybe they are fighting over the magnetics…no one really knows for sure. A couple of days ago, three of our men—I don’t think you’ve met them yet—went out to fetch back some stray cattle. They figure they were about ten, maybe twelve miles north of here when they heard this horrible noise up in the sky. They hid in the trees and watched as these three ships, small and kind of wedge-shaped, were knocked clean out of the sky by this other huge ship. The bigger ship was round, like a marble, and it was the thing that made the sound.”

  Allen shook his head. “That horn was so loud it burst two of the men’s eardrums. The other man, I think his name is Randy, was wearing his daughter’s earmuffs because the cold gives him earaches. He’s lucky, I guess…those earaches saved his ears this time.”

  Zack cleared his throat. “Nay, we’re letting more people in. It’s going to be tight, but we don’t have much choice in the matter. I guess that a lot of people out there are forming up into armies. Food is getting scarce, almost all of the medicine is gone—stolen or used up. Now people are either joining up or getting slaughtered. So far, we’ve been lucky, but the tide is turning. There are about a hundred cars parked on the county road leading here. All those people want in. What Allen and I were thinking was to let all those cars, and maybe another fifty or so, come on in and we’ll park them nose to tail around the compound. The metal will act as a barricade, the gas will be put to good use and hopefully the people will have some useful items we can all use.”

  “My God…has it really come down to this?” I hated the tremor in my voice, and wanted to hide from the fierce gleam in my brother’s blue eyes.

  “Naomi! You need to grow up an
d get your head on straight! It’s war out there. You don’t like it? Fine. Neither does anyone else, but that’s the way it is. We need to get fortified. We need to arm ourselves and be ready to defend what’s ours, or we’re all going to die! You need to pick up your deer gun and get some practice in, okay? You used to be a good shot…now you need to be that again. You can’t use live ammunition, but some kid brought his whole paint ball set to the compound. It’s perfect for target practice.”

  Suddenly, Zack’s eyes grew large and sparkled with tears. He came to where I sat and knelt at my feet. This huge feral stranger with the grim mouth and frightful eyes was my little brother again. He was scared to death, and needed my help. He took my two hands in his, and whispered, “Don’t give up on us, Sis, please. You might not realize this, but Josh and I depend on you. You’ve always been the strong one, the smart one. We need your help here.”

  I understood that by withdrawing into myself after the animal attack, I had, in essence, withdrawn my support from the family, and I squeezed Zack’s hands. I was just about to tell him how sorry I was when there was a tremendous explosion outside. The concussion was so great it shattered the plate glass window in the living room. Anything that wasn’t nailed down toppled and fell to the floor.

  Dimly, through the ringing in my ears, I could hear the sound of gun fire. Shrieks of pain and fury and the steady rat-a-tat-tat of automatic gunfire filled the air. Although clouds of spilled flour rolled along the floor like fog, I could clearly see my Uncle Allen, who still sat in his favorite recliner.

  A large piece of glass was embedded in the back of his neck. The front of his shirt was covered in blood, and his eyes stared sightlessly into his own personal eternity.

  Chapter 11

  The Rescue Plan – September 2015

  Michael and Gary sat back in their seats and listened in wonder as the small silver disk twirled in mid-air and spoke to them. At first the words were garbled, a strange mix of English, Chinese, Swahili and Hebrew. The dialogue was interspersed with a high, warbling whistle, like the sound older model computers used to make when trying to connect with outside servers. After a few moments, the whistling sound ceased and the words evolved into standard English.

  “You are the humans, Michael and Gary Anderson, yes?” The mechanical voice paused, as if waiting politely for a reply to its query. The brothers glanced at one another. Michael cleared his throat.

  “Yes, we are,” Michael murmured, staring at the disk, which slowed and stopped spinning when he spoke.

  “Whoa…” Gary whispered. His lips curled into a smile.

  “Michael and Gary Anderson are in the continuum. This, my associate and I have observed.” The disk started spinning again.

  The brothers waited for a moment. When the disk seemed disinclined to continue, Michael said, “We have no idea what you’re talking about! What does that mean? Why won’t you let us go home?”

  There was a momentary silence, then the disk let out a sharp pop and the air behind it grew thick. A rectangular shape grew between the disk and the windshield, until it filled the dash board and window area with a sort of TV screen. Shadowed shapes, like swirling smoke, filled the screen and then resolved into a picture.

  The brothers gasped as they saw the two aliens. The little beings were hunched over a large square slab. They were staring down at the smooth surface with rapt attention. Michael looked down as well, and saw that the slab was a floating table and a large screen. Images flowed and ebbed across the screen. Both of the little aliens were taking notes on hand-held devices.

  There were pictures of planet earth, the solar system and constellations. On earth, scenes of devastation filled the screen. Michael saw that fires raged out of control all over the planet. He observed slow-motion footage of earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, giant hurricanes, tornados and tidal waves. He saw cities; some familiar, many unknown, encased by giant columns of force field energy. He watched as the enclosures filled with gas and looked away when the image panned down to view the devastation on the ground below.

  There were images of alien spacecraft as well. Diagrams and schematics showed the ships at every possible angle. Strange ciphers accompanied the pictures. Michael assumed these were stat sheets, or operational manuals. There were also graphic images of the alien beings that operated the ships.

  “Eww!” Gary muttered.

  The large, boomerang-shaped spacecraft were apparently operated by giant lizard-like birds. They were blue with large, spiny crests and heavy, downturned beaks. Information about the creatures scrolled by, but in some incomprehensible language—a language of symbols and numbers, rather than words.

  There were other aliens, as well; aliens that looked like the little Gray’s bigger, badder cousins. Whereas the little Grays were small and wrinkled, with tiny mouths and large black eyes, the bigger Grays were tall and muscular. They had huge mouths bristling with teeth. Aggression and hostility filled slitted, golden eyes.

  It was the third set of pictures that made the brothers tremble with fear. These aliens were as red as the devil, and actually looked like demons. They possessed many arms, like tentacles, and their long, goat-like heads sported huge spiraling horns. These aliens operated the round, marble-shaped ships that had come late to the game, and seemed to be at war with the other alien ships.

  As the brothers watched the tableau, taking in as much detail as possible, clouds rolled in over the scene and cleared again to reveal images of Michael and Gary.

  “Wow, Michael! What is this?” Gary breathed.

  “Shush…listen!” Michael hissed.

  “We are Tatularian…what your race would call accountants, although that is not a complete description. Our betters are these…”

  For a moment, the scrolling screen froze on the image of the large blue-green aliens with the big mouths and bigger teeth. Michael liked the look of the little ones better.

  “The Tatulori,” the mechanical voice continued. “We are somewhat the same peoples, but the Tatulori are soldiers and politicians. We are bookkeepers…historians…lessers.”

  Michael watched the aliens’ table through the TV screen. He saw the ground rush by, as well as small streams and the tops of trees. He realized that he was actually viewing video footage from inside the alien’s spacecraft. His suspicions were confirmed when the shadowy profile of an alien loomed into view. Michael assumed the camera was placed at the back of the ship’s cabin. It had a perfect bird’s eye view through the front porthole.

  He was ready to speak to the disk, to ask again why he and his brother were not being allowed to go home, when the alien craft rose over a hill. He stared at what he saw gazing back…himself, and his brother Gary.

  The image froze in place for a moment, then fast-forwarded to footage of a gun battle in a rest area. Gary gasped as he saw the bullets enter his body. Michael was reminded once again that he and his brother would be dead now, if it weren’t for the little aliens’ help.

  Suddenly the screen grew dark. Michael thought the show might be over, but then a pink glow washed over the screen. The disk spoke.

  “That was before, now is ahead…this we have seen.”

  Michael and Gary leaned forward slightly as the holographic picture screen resolved into a view of a parking lot.

  “What the hell?” Gary grumbled.

  “Wait a minute,” Michael responded.

  Michael saw the camera pan back and forth, and then settle on the image of two bright yellow school buses. They were parked diagonally—nose in toward the side of a large cinder-block building. Deer Park School District was stenciled on the side of each bus.

  Michael glanced away from the TV screen and out the side window. He realized that the car was circling over the small town of Deer Park now. As he stared down, he could actually see the tops of the two buses. Then he noticed something out of the corner of his eye.

  It was a fleet of Urkuli boomerangs. There were about twenty ships sailing north from Spokane, flying
in loose formation. As Michael watched, the lead ship stopped in mid-air, maybe ten miles away, and painted the ground below it in a reddish glow. Suddenly a ship appeared from high overhead. This one was so big it blotted out the setting sun. Huge and wedge shaped, the ship settled over the red painted target area.

  Long tentacles sprouted from the sides of the huge ship and shot toward the ground. Michael thought he could feel the impact from where he sat, as the protuberances hit the earth’s surface.

  He started when the silver disk spoke. “Michael Anderson! You and your brother are in the continuum, but the future telling can be…uncertain. You must go down now, to this place. You are meant to rescue the young humans trapped in the building and take them here.”

  The screen went blank again and slowly turned pink. Clouds of mist swirled across the screen and then dissolved into the image of the most beautiful young woman Michael had ever seen.

  Images scrolled across the screen, and almost all of them featured a woman with long red hair. She was tall and thin with pale, lightly freckled skin and fierce green eyes. One picture showed her at the head of some sort of army. She held a rifle in one hand and her other hand was raised in a fist. Her teeth were bared in a grimace of triumph.

  Another image showed her on her hands and knees in a field of corn. She had raised one arm to wipe water, or maybe sweat, from her brow. Her mouth was turned down in sorrow, or grief. The camera had somehow captured the woman’s moment of vulnerability with candid sympathy.

  It was another image that caught Michael’s eye, and captured his heart. This picture was taken in the evening and was a testament to alien technology. Although it was obviously quite dark outside, the camera illuminated the woman’s face, and the features of the children who gathered around her. She was reading from a book that was spread out on her lap and gesturing with her arms.