Race To Survive 456p36

RACE TO SURVIVE

Mary Mayers

Copyright © 2019 by Mary Mayers.

ISBN: Softcover 978-1-7960-7379-9 eBook 978-1-7960-7380-5

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only. Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 12/09/2019

Xlibris 1-888-795-4274 www.Xlibris.com

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CONTENTS

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 32

Thank you to my four wonderful children, Sara, Amanda, Rachel and Anthony for being so patient and understanding, and for allowing me to pursue my writing. I LOVE YOU!!!. Mommy

CHAPTER 1

Gazing up at the large hand-scribbled calendar tacked on the wall above him, Jarvis reached forward with his black marker and marked off another day. Shaking his head in frustration he looked over his shoulder and shouted, “heh, Cutter! Is this thing for real? Have we been out here in no-man’s land for twenty seven months already?” Five foot three, slim, and donning brunette shoulder length hair, Cutter pushed back her chair and throwing a stale bread roll across the mess hall aiming it directly at Jarvis, answered, “yah, that’s right lover boy. Twenty seven boring, uneventful months. Billions of tax payer dollars paying us to ride around in this trash container.” Cutter kicked the back of her chair sending it crashing up against the edge of the shiny metal table that sat firmly bolted to the floor. Finding humor in their present occupation, she laughed with sarcasm and sneered; “we can’t even keep up with the trash on earth, and here they are sending us out here in the name of ‘environmental clean-up’ to retrieve thirty years of discarded space junk. It wouldn’t be so bad if the scenery changed once in awhile, and when’s the last time we hauled a shred of debris in? Two months ago?” Jarvis tossed the black marker at the wall watching as it hit the floor and rolled out of sight. “It feels a lot longer than that,” he remarked. Racing in through the narrow steel door Bomber hollered with excitement, gasping for air after each sentence. “You’re never going to believe this…..it’s incredible…..they never mentioned anything like this to us…..” Bomber’s arms were raised in front of his chest, and as he spoke he extended them outward in the attempt of describing his unusual find. Jarvis and Cutter listened patiently to the husky man ranting and raving out of control like a lunatic. Although he was not very good at managing his lofty personality, everyone aboard the Viking II respected the former Air Force pilot who had proven himself loyal and capable, having been honorably discharged from his military career with a chest full of metals. Due to their informal and lax surroundings, Bomber’s unshaven and disheveled appearance added fuel to his

seemingly flighty personality. As he carried on bursting with excitement, he waved his hands at Jarvis and Cutter motioning to them to follow. “Come on you couch potatoes. Get your asses up to the observation deck. You’ve got to see it for yourself. This is a big one.” Turning swiftly certain they would follow, Bomber disappeared through the door. Cutter winked her eye at Jarvis and grinned. “What do you think? Do you suppose Bomber fabricated this new discovery to liven things up for us?” Jarvis rubbed his chin with his finger tips giving the idea some thought. Then breaking a smile, he replied. “You know Cutter. I don’t care if it’s a toaster floating around out there. Right now I’m so desperate for something to do……….” Moving past Cutter, Jarvis grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her along. “Come on sweet lips I’m dying of curiosity, aren’t you? Maybe it’s the Titanic…..” “The Titanic, eh?” Cutter laughed at his wild and distorted imagination.” “Sure,” Jarvis continued. “Maybe some extraterrestrial raised her from the ocean floor, taking her back to their planet as a souvenir from earth.” Jarvis caught sight of Cutter shaking her head at his absurd hypothesis. “Okay lover boy. If they took her home as a souvenir, then what would she be doing drifting around out here?” Cutter knew she would not have to wait for an answer. Jarvis was well-known in Viking II for his quick comebacks. “Isn’t that obvious?” he asked whimsically. “She’s got a big hole in her. She’s defective.” Thinking his explanation was fast and perfect as usual, Jarvis snickered victoriously. Cutter threw out her hand at hearing his ridiculous response clipping him in the back of the head. “Heh, watch my head will yah? You don’t want to be responsible for damaging my intelligence. You’d be lost without me.” Having made that conceited statement, Jarvis threw his hands over his head for cover knowing full well Cutter would be aiming for a second shot. Moving quickly down the long narrow ageway of the solid steel, two

hundred and fifty thousand ton space transport, their urgent steps echoed around them. Taking a shortcut through engineering, they slowed occasionally to duck and squeeze past large bulky power conductors and generators that gave Viking II the nuclear power to function, and to produce the atmosphere capable of housing human life on board. Jumping onto a large round platform, Cutter pressed a red button to her left. They listened to the familiar high-pitched beep, then waited only a second until an iron railing locked in around them. Immediately the platform began to rise, slowly at first, then increased to a faster pace until they arrived several decks up. When the platform was secure both Jarvis and Cutter stepped down waving at Bomber who anxiously called to them to ‘hurry’. The observation deck was considered the best place to retreat to when boredom settled in, or if meditation was required to hold onto their sanity until they were relieved of their duties aboard the space transport. The deck was shaped like a large glass bubble giving the lookout on duty a complete and unobstructed view of the universe all around them. It came furnished with only one large comfortable chair, which had the ability to move in either direction, 360 degrees. The throne, as everyone liked to call it was equipped with a highly intelligent computer with vast capabilities. If need be, it could function on it’s own scanning space for solid objects within a hundred mile radius. If a collision course with an oncoming object was detected, the computer would promptly sound an alarm notifying the crew. However, in this particular case Bomber was on duty on the observation deck, and it was he who discovered the incredible sight out in the distance. As his finger pointed out the massive unfamiliar and lifeless object sitting clearly in plain sight, Jarvis and Cutter moved ever so slowly toward the glass wall that stood between them and death. Cutter felt her heart beat erratically hearing it thunder inside of her chest. She was overcome with immeasurable fear and excitement. For centuries UFO’s had been sighted and stories told, but for Cutter, it had never seemed a reality. There was always someone coming up with a logical explanation to explain each and every sighting and event. When she turned to look at Jarvis, Jarvis was already looking back at her waiting for her to speak. “Well, what do you think Jarvis? You’re always telling us how smart you are. So, explain this for us please.” Cutter glared back at the unknown object waiting for Jarvis to answer. However, no answer had been offered. For once in twenty seven months Jarvis was speechless.

“Heh, Bomber!” called out Cutter. “You were in the Air Force. What do you know about UFO’s and little green men from mars?” She attempted to laugh but she felt a nervous twinge pinch her stomach. Bomber leaned up against the glass bubble, pressing his face against it’s smooth surface. He hesitated for a moment, then moving his head to the right so that he faced Cutter’s pale face, he shook his head in a negative response. “Sorry, but in all my years as a pilot I never crossed paths with an unidentified flying object. And as you know, information involving UFO’s was never disclosed to the public. The government made every effort to hide information and evidence, making every attempt to disprove their existence. Information regarding UFO’s was Top Secret and only select few were chosen to acquire Top Secret Clearance giving them access to that supposedly not real evidence.” At that ridiculous statement, Bomber couldn’t help but laugh. “Boy, the government must think we humans are stupid. They try and tell us that UFO’s don’t exist, yet they keep evidence of their existence under lock and key classifying it as Top Secret. Bah, humbug as scrooge would say.” “Does that mean you believe that this could be a UFO manned by extraterrestrial?” Silently Cutter hoped Bomber’s answer would be no. But again, Bomber leaned up against the glass and just stared in amazement. Jarvis suddenly came to life. Straightening his posture with confidence he began to state his opinion. “This can’t be a UFO. First, if there were such things as ET’s visiting our earth, and supposedly they’ve been doing so for centuries, then why haven’t they made a move on us in all these years? Secondly, if our government thought for one moment that there would be a chance of us bumping into men from outerspace, don’t you think they would have equipped this oversized sardine can with some sort of defense weapons? You know what I think this big dead ship is? It’s Russian. It’s probably an old space station that they sent up here equipped with missiles or some kind of warheads aimed at wiping us out during the cold war.” Jarvis looked first at Cutter then over at Bomber. Both were obviously confused at what he was attempting to say. “Come on guys. Use your brains. You know the Russians were pretty current on modern technology. They could have easily built this monster of a contraption and sent it up into the earth’s orbit disguised as a satellite. Who’d know the difference?” By now Jarvis thought his explanation would have made sense to his two cohorts, but to his surprise both

Cutter and Bomber remained frozen in place, waiting for him to finish. Jarvis began pacing the floor shaking his head. When he was ready to continue he stopped and faced his attentive audience. “Suppose I’m right so far; now this thing is sitting here idle obviously abandoned. Wouldn’t it make sense that after the cold war had come to an end there was no longer any need for this massive instrument of destruction. They were ordered to remove the warheads contained by their missiles and since war was no longer a threat between earth’s leading nations, this space station of their’s no longer served it’s purpose so they removed it’s personnel.” Jarvis waited anxiously for their response. Bomber turned to Cutter asking, “what do you think? It sounds plausible, doesn’t it?” Cutter walked up to the glass wall and placed her hand lightly on it’s surface, feeling for the first time in over two years how cool it felt against her soft skin. She was just about to agree when a flash of light pierced her staring eyes. The light emanated from the large dark mass in question. “Did you see that?” she yelled out so intensely, she startled both Jarvis and Bomber. Both men rushed to her side, neither of them knowing what prompted her to yell out like that. In unison, Jarvis and Bomber blurted out, “what’s happening?” “Didn’t you see it? The light? I saw a light flash out towards us from that ship.” Cutter attempted to suppress her fear. She did not want to appear weak among her coworkers. They stood, their eyes locked on the gigantic machine which seemed to have no end. They had spent more than two years hauling in large pieces of debris from old dysfunctional satellites, and discarded materials that had intentionally and unintentionally been left to drift in the earth’s orbit over a thirty year period. Since the first Apollo trip to the moon, the space program had flourished, leaving experimental equipment and useless space craft parts floating in space. If given orders by Washington to attempt salvage procedures, the task would more then likely fail. Although their space transport was enormous, it’s equipment was not built to haul an object of such magnitude. This craft would have to be dismantled which would inevitably take several years to accomplish.

Twenty minutes ed without any sign of light. Cutter shrugged it off as her wild imagination, and after having a good laugh over the entire situation they turned and headed for the elevator platform. “Let’s go eat. The gross food is on me. My treat.” Bomber knew he was hanging around Jarvis for too long. His wise cracks were beginning to sound just like Jarvis. As they positioned themselves on the platform Jarvis reached out for the controls when suddenly, he jerked to attention unable to move. All three crew stood in shock as one by one, lights began popping up along the outer extremities of the large craft outside. Jumping from the platform they were overcome with panic. “What’s happening Bomber! Jarvis!” shouted Cutter. “What’s going on! Shit guys, speak to me. What’s going on?” Trembling from head to toe, she turned to the two men who were scrambling behind her, one pressing buttons to monitor the movement of the unknown craft, while the other attempted to make with the Defense Department in Washington, D.C. “Hello, hello, this is Viking II, do you hear me? Please answer. We have an emergency. Come in……..” Bomber’s words flowed out urgently without hesitation. “Come in please…..this is Viking II. We have an emergency……..” The silence was suddenly broken, but it was not Washington, D.C. that filled the air. An unbearably loud, deep drone pierced their eardrums, sending shivers down their spines. “This is Viking II, please come in. We have an emergency.” Bomber was shouting into the radio, only receiving static. They were scared, no one tried to hide it. Jarvis covered his ears with his hands attempting to block out the painful noise. “Bomber, we’ve got to get down to control. Maybe we can get the hell out of here before anything else happens. We’re sitting ducks up here.” Jarvis didn’t wait for group approval. He ran for the platform. Cutter and Bomber followed close behind. The elevator dropped them down three decks where the control center was stationed. Running, one behind the other, they made their way up one corridor and down another. Making several turns, they finally reached their destination. The loud deep drone echoed amidst the hollow steel corridors making it difficult

to think. Crossing through the door leading into the control room, Jarvis tripped, sending Cutter and Bomber tumbling over him. They gathered themselves up as quickly as possible, each one going to their assigned stations. They labored arduously to regain power. The engines that gave them forward mobility had sat idle for days as they utilized the computer to search ahead for drifting debris. The intense fervor within the control room escalated at the quick, yet cautious handling of the controls. Their hearts seem to skip a beat each time an engine ignited, thrusting the ship forward with increased power. They had never had to worry about their ship’s speed capabilities, and now they were putting it to the test. “Come on baby let’s go,” shouted Jarvis. “Lock in thruster number 2 Cutter, hurry!” Cutter manipulated a throttle with one hand while flicking switches with the other. They listened hopefully to the sound of the boosters locking into position. The ship whined as it worked laboriously, being forced to push forward in little time. “Lock in booster number 3, now Cutter, now!” shouted Jarvis. Under her breath, Cutter pleaded for Viking II to move faster. “Please, please move faster. Get us out of here,” she whispered repeatedly as she felt her knees become weak. The engines whined and the ship began to shake. Amidst the ongoing drone the grating of metal on metal screeched mercilessly as the shaking inside their ship worsened. There was no longer anything any of them could do. It was up to Viking II now to get them out of harms way. Jarvis, Cutter and Bomber stood facing into the darkness of space that stood before them, each one praying silently for help. As the ship began picking up speed it was hit suddenly from the rear, thrusting it off course. Cutter fell to the floor, her head badly injured as it impacted with the control . She was not able to pull herself back up, the shaking prevented her from regaining her balance. Jarvis had managed to grab hold of his seat which was bolted securely to the floor, and after great effort, was able to seat himself down and fasten the security straps. Bomber was less fortunate. As their ship jolted at the enormous impact, he was sent head first into the front viewing screen, crushing his skull, finding instant death. The drone coming from the unknown craft became louder and louder. Holding their

hands to their ears, Jarvis and Cutter made every attempt to shut it out, and to their amazement it finally stopped. For a split second the control room had become eerily silent. Before either of them had time to speak, a shrill, highpitched tone ripped through the room, and as if sensing it was the end, Cutter and Jarvis gazed into each other’s eyes with defeat and smiled; at that very instant, an explosion ripped through the entire Viking II Transport Ship, disintegrating it into tiny particles of dust, becoming invisible in the earth’s orbit.

* * *

Reaching over her morning newspaper, Marion Stevenson fumbled for her cup of black coffee. She sighed with relief as she tasted her first mouthful of the day. Setting the cup back on the small glass-top table, Marion flipped through the pages of her daily paper one at a time, searching out headlines that captured her interest. As she reached the fourth page, her eyes caught sight of a familiar heading. It read, ‘Third body found dead in middle-class Chicago’. She continued to read. “Third body in one month…….no signs of forced entry…..no signs of physical ……no injuries of any kind detected on body…..autopsy reveals no answers to cause of death.” Marion closed the pages of the newspaper abruptly, sitting quietly sorting through her memory of headlines such as this one, that she had read over the past several months. Tapping her fingers tips on the table’s edge, she slowly began ing bits and pieces of information. “Let’s see, if I correctly, there were nine bodies found in the same condition in several cities in California. Five bodies in New York,…..um…let’s see…..um…..three bodies in Houston…..oh God, what’s going on. According to the authorities, no one knows how or why they died. How strange.” Marion picked up her coffee cup and began sipping it more quickly. She looked at her watch realizing that it was getting late. In order not to be late for work, she would have to leave immediately. Rolling up the paper, she stashed it under her arm and holding onto the coffee cup, Marion hurried through the door. Marion was a reporter for the Chicago Informer and prided herself on being efficient and punctual. She found herself profoundly drawn into the mystery surrounding the numerous and unexplainable deaths around the country. Something was being overlooked, but what?

CHAPTER 2

The thirty minute drive from her quaint home on the outskirts of town to the hustle and bustle of Chicago’s south end was as usual, uneventful. She avoided traffic jams and road construction by following the back roads as much as possible. When she arrived at the familiar three story brick building splotched with an age-old layer of industrial soot, Marion pulled into her designated parking spot. Opening the door of her old, but pampered 67 blue Camaro, she slid her long slender legs over the side of her seat planting them firmly on the ground. She was about to stand but her attention was suddenly drawn to a loud commotion coming from across the parking lot beyond the front doors of the ‘Chicago Informer’. As she pulled herself up along side of the car, Marion was able to make out a large crowd of people waving their arms and shouting at several familiar employees of the ‘Chicago Informer’ newspaper. She was too far from the hubbub to make any sense of the situation. Slamming the door she moved quickly in the direction of the crowd. As she approached the front entrance to the building she began making out the words that flowed through the thick smogfilled air. She stood back and listened attentively, something she was very good at, and which made her the professional news paper reporter that she was. “What do you know about the reported sightings of mysterious flashing lights over Patterson County last week? Your story was very vague in last week’s Sunday issue. You blew it off as if it was just some hoax. Isn’t it…….” Marion felt a chuckle well up in her throat. “Here we go again,” she whispered under her breath. “E.T. is back in town.” It’s not that she didn’t believe in the possibility of life on other planets, it was the fact that for years people have been seeing strange and unexplainable ‘things’, and nothing could ever be completely substantiated. For all intense purposes, UFO’s were always news worthy, and ‘news’ was her business. Shaking her opinions from her mind, she turned her attention back to the crowd at hand. “Is it true a UFO was sighted in the Arizona desert yesterday? CNN news aired it’s existence last night, but I didn’t see anything in your newspaper today. Why

is that? Have you sent any reporters down there to investigate?”…….Another curious bystander stepped forward to comment. “Yah, I couldn’t sleep last night because my dog wouldn’t stop barking. I got up to drag him into the house so that he’d……” Before he could finish, a young woman dressed as if stuck in the 60’s in lose fitting, tie-dyed garb leaped forward. She ranted hysterically, moving through the crowd spinning herself in circular motions. She hissed the words of warning out from her lips, “they’re coming, don’t you see. They’re coming to take over our earth…..” As she continued the words of warning she found herself bombarded with negative reception. The woman refused to be scorned and pushed off as a mere lunatic. She advanced forward shouting louder. In order to be heard the others all stepped ahead crowding up against the steps of the building inadvertently surrounding the poor unsuspecting newspaper employees. Only Marion remained safely detached from the chaos. Having witnessed the large crowd becoming out of control outside of their doors, one of the paper’s secretaries stepped in to rescue her coworkers. She had called the police asking them for their assistance in clearing the mad dogs away from their heels. The city police arrived quickly, and with experience and professionalism dispersed the confused assortment of people who begged for last minute answers to the many UFO sightings around the country. Marion snickered at seeing her coworkers’ frazzled appearance after having been left to defend themselves in the lion’s den. As they shuffled past her, she offered her by patting them each on the back. “Way to go troopers. You made us all proud.” Having said that with such a serious tone in her voice Marion couldn’t hold back. She threw her hand up to her stomach and burst out with laughter. “I’m sorry guys, I couldn’t help myself, honest”. Turning to face her, one gave her the finger while the other sent her a glare that could kill. Marion watched as they retreated into the building. Before following behind, she yanked at her skirt then at her jacket making certain she appeared neat. Then moving her foot beyond the first step was stopped short by a quiet voice from behind. “I did see something, really I did. My dog did too, that’s why he was barking that night. He never barks.” The short balding man stared into her eyes when Marion turned at the sound of his voice. He believed every word of what he had just said. He hoped Marion would too.

She was standing on the step looking down which made the man appear even shorter than he was. Marion felt as if she were speaking down at a child. She made every attempt to remain attentive, hearing his words, “well? Are YOU going to investigate? Maybe the FBI knows something.” Marion shook her head in response. “I’m sorry, it’s not because I don’t want to. It’s not my area of reporting.” She sighed at the frown etched on the man’s disappointed face. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t, I would do a lousy job on the topic of UFO’s and life on other planets, you know; that sort of stuff. I don’t know the first thing about it.” Stepping back and straightening her slumped posture, Marion felt she was ready to close the topic. “But you’re a reporter. It’s your job to reveal the truth to the public.” He wiped away drops of sweat that bubbled up on his forehead, hoping Marion would somehow believe him. He knew he had seen something. He just didn’t know what it was. “I’m very sorry sir but I’m not the one who can help you.” She felt like a heel. Letting people down wasn’t one of her favorite tasks. She flashed him a warm smile as she turned and disappeared up the steps. On entering the news room, she tossed her handbag on top of her cluttered desk that sat aside from the others. She deliberately moved it to the wall by the window. She wanted to see and feel the sun on those rare occasions that it filtered through the thick gray smog of downtown Chicago. She glanced around the room feeling quite at home amidst the chatter and shuffling of paper that lingered in the air throughout the work day. Before sitting herself down, Marion squinted her eyes as she focused them across the room towards the office labeled, ‘Editor-in-Chief’. This was the man who she needed to speak with immediately. She had completed her previous assignment and now was ready to tackle another one. However, not just any assignment. Reading the morning newspaper over coffee that morning had left her desperately curious about the many sudden deaths that no one seemed to find an answer to. Requesting the assignment was a long-shot but she had to try. Inching her way between the scattered desks, grabbing hold of papers as they attempted to float away from their piles, Marion proceeded with caution. As she approached the office door she stopped and cleared her throat before thumping her closed hand on the door. “Come in!” came a gruff voice from the other side of the door.

Marion peered around the open door before entering. “Are you in a good mood or bad mood today boss?” Waiting in place for his answer, she was relieved to see his good mood smile spring from his lips. “Come on in Miss Marion, I’m not going to bite. My wife is out of town visiting her mother. I ‘ve had a relatively good week so far.” Removing his glasses and setting them on his desk he motioned Marion to have a seat. “So what’s up? I don’t see much of you around here. You’ve always got your head buried in some story out there.” Marion smiled assuming his remark was meant as a compliment. “That’s my job boss,” she commented with a light tone of voice. “Have I ever let you down yet?” “No Miss Marion. You’re one of the best. Now, I know you didn’t come in here with idle chatter in mind.” The Editor-in-Chief, Mr. Garrison ambled around the side of his large oak desk sitting himself down on it’s edge. “Now, what’s this pleasant visit of yours all about?” Marion repositioned herself in the hard uncomfortable chair, then crossing her legs began to speak. “What do you know about the deaths; the ones across the country that have been labeled, ‘cause of death unknown’? Don’t you think that’s a bit odd? A person can’t just die without a logical or physical explanation. Maybe they had contracted some hideous disease and it’s sudden and deadly appearance is being covered up by the Center for Disease Control in hopes of not creating a nationwide panic.” She stopped speaking long enough to allow Mr. Garrison to comment. “I can see it in your face young lady. You want this project don’t you?” He stood up and moved away from his desk. Standing in front of her he continued. “This is serious business. You don’t know what you would be getting yourself into. It wouldn’t be a nine to five business day for you if you were crazy enough to tackle this case. Let me fill in some blanks before you commit yourself to this crazy idea of yours.” He sauntered around his desk and moved to his large leather chair. He grabbed onto it and pulled it around the desk and positioned it near Marion. Sitting down making sure he was comfortable, Mr. Garrison locked his eyes onto hers absorbing all of her attention. “Okay, where shall I begin? I’ve been in the newspaper business for 33 years now, and in all of those years I’ve had the benefit of meeting and making some pretty loyal friends. Over the past

several weeks I’ve managed to get a more detailed picture of this unusual situation. It’s really frightening. These unexplainable deaths are not just occurring in our backyard. We’ve been getting new reports in just recently from our news s from major cities all over the globe. These mysterious deaths are cropping up all over the place. They’ve got every leading homicide detective, biologist and even the FBI working on these cases. has thirteen reported cases so far coming from Frankfurt, Berlin and Munich. And get this, there’s already over a hundred other cases on record coming from , Russia, Spain and Italy. Well that’s just to name a few, the list goes on. Don’t walk out of this office quoting me Marion, but it’s my personal opinion that we have ourselves a global disaster on our hands. It’s bizarre.” Mr. Garrison ran his fingers along the sides of his thin short hair. Nodding his head, looking down at the floor, he grumbled. “How could this sort of thing happen?” Marion stood up abruptly drawing the Editor in Chief’s attention to her quick movement. “Well, I guess it’s up to us to try and find an answer. Someone has to. We can’t just sit back and watch as people keep dropping off like flies.” “If you think for one minute you’re in a position to break this case, you’re crazy. Every experienced professional on this earth is working around the clock just to find one tiny clue to all this………” Marion jumped in excusing herself for interrupting. “But boss, there has to be a connection. Some common ground that ties them all in together. Maybe they made a trip to some under developed country, at various times of course, but maybe within a specific time frame. You know what I mean, don’t you?” Seeing a blank look on her boss’s face she attempted to clarify her thoughts. “You know how people all around the world develop allergies to various plants and animals that become more prominent and irritated at certain peak times of the year. It’s like an open window. If it’s ripe to be caught, it’ll be caught at it’s most favorable opportunity. These people could have traveled to some exotic place unaware that some new disease was ready to spring forth from a term in incubation.” “Marion,” retorted Garrison. What is the likelihood that so many people from all over the globe would vacation in the same place. Doesn’t it…….” Again Marion interjected. “Okay then, what if only some or even just one person became infected with some unknown, undiscovered disease and somewhere

along the way each one of these people had with the original carrier?” Garrison cupped his hands together and began humming and hawing searching for a plausible reply. “You think it could have happened like a dominos affect, is that it?” He looked up at Marion’s intense demeanor. “Sorry to burst your bubble Miss Marion, but that idea has already been ruled out. Extensive investigations have already attempted to make a physical connection between the victims. It came up dry. None of the poor souls had ever met.” Marion began pacing around the room. “How can anyone say that none of them had ever met. Maybe they did and they themselves were not even aware of it. I mean, when you bump into someone on the street quite by accident what are the chances of you ing what they looked like. If you bump into someone during the day by the time you jump into bed at night would you even that particular incident? I don’t think so.” “Marion, I know you’re stuck on this case, but you’ve got to put it into perspective. If it was a question of disease, an autopsy would it almost immediately. The majority of the victims have already undergone a thorough autopsy. I don’t mean to be rude but from what I understand, these people have been cut wide open from head to toe. Morgue personnel and top-notch biologists and biochemists have worked laboriously day and night. They’ve sliced and diced every organ in the victims’ lifeless bodies.” Walking up to Marion who stood transfixed and deep in thought, Garrison placed his hand gently on her shoulder. “There is NO sign of disease or illness of any kind. NO signs of death by natural causes such as heart failure…….NO nothing Marion. It’s a mystery that may remain a mystery. Maybe it’s just the beginning of the end.” Marion jerked to attention at that last remark. “You can’t possibly believe that, can you?” She felt her stomach tightening, she was aghast at his last statement. “Some things are not in our control. Besides, look at our great civilization. Since the beginning of time we humans have toiled and fought to improve our lives, to find cures for preventing and healing illnesses. Instead we go to under-developed countries with our miracle drugs only to leave them with infectious and incurable diseases leaving death and destruction. All in the name of progress. For every great thing we accomplish we create a string of adverse side-affects.” Garrison reached over his desk and extracted a sheet of paper from the top of an enormous stack. Turning to Marion, he handed it to her without an explanation.

Marion raised the paper so that she could easily read it. Looking away from the page she glanced up at her boss. “It’s blank. The assignment section is blank.” She waited as Garrison stood silently in thought. “Why is my new assignment blank boss?” “I want you to fill it in. You’re a big girl and I trust your judgment. You now know all the details concerning the mysterious deaths. I’m confident that you’ll come to your senses and make the correct decision.” Marion stared thoughtfully at the assignment sheet in her grasp. Garrison had never allowed her or anyone else for that matter to pick and choose their desired assignments. So why now she thought. Why is he extending her the privilege? Biting on her bottom lip and glancing back-and-forth between Garrison and the paper several times searching for the right decision, Marion finally bent over the large oak desk and began to write. When she had completed the last word she slowly handed him the decision fully prepared for a last minute lecture. However, much to her surprise, Garrison’s reaction was just the opposite. He flashed her a grin from ear to ear reaching out his hand to shake hers. “That’s my girl. I knew you wouldn’t let me down. You’re the sharpest most conscientious reporter on my staff; and the most stubborn too. Had you not accepted this challenge, I think I would have been disappointed. Now I’m not saying that you’re going to get anywhere with this; in fact I’m certain you won’t. But it’s not because you’re not capable of this assignment. As I explained already this case is dead, there are no leads.” Marion took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Her nervousness gradually waned away forming a new and exhilarated wave of excitement. Walking to the door not at all sure where to begin, Marion looked back over her shoulder at Garrison. “Thanks boss, I appreciate the chance you’re giving me. I can’t promise you anything but….” Garrison stopped her in mid sentence. “Go on and get out of here Miss Marion. I hope I haven’t made a mistake.” Seeing her open the door and begin to leave, he quickly shouted out to her, “be careful out there. You don’t know what you’re dealing with!” As she disappeared from sight, he felt a knot forming in his gut. “God, I hope she’ll be all right.”

CHAPTER 3

Marion sat glued to her desk for the remainder of that day. After digging through the piles of forgotten papers, she found several telephone messages that had been left for her from two days ago. Not wanting to leave behind any unnecessary loose ends she picked up the phone and one-by-one returned the calls. Most of the calls were from people who had news tips to report. She was not surprised to hear about the cat stuck in the garberator, and the seventy year old masher who made sweet advances on a sixty-eight year old woman on a park bench, and the woman who forgot what she had called about in the first place. Marion sighed thinking how trivial life could be. Somehow that just wasn’t enough for her. There were so many bigger and more important things going on around the world of which she so desperately wanted to be a part of. She thrived on challenge. Picking up her last message Marion groaned. She was relieved that it was the last one. Holding the receiver to her ear she listened patiently for someone to answer. While the phone continued to ring, Marion picked up the pink memo from where she had taken the number from. Turning it over she realized there was a short note scribbled on it. Whoever had originally taken the message had jotted it down quickly making it difficult to read. She held the small piece of paper close to her face, and squinting, she attempted to decipher the words. “Something strange a…about neigh…bor. He..sh…ould be de…dead…26 years…. The…there’s more. Call.” Marion shook her head giving herself a light smack on the side of the head. “What is going on around here? I swear it must be a full moon. Flashing lights, UFO’s, living people who should be dead. God,” Marion sneered. “There are hundreds of people dying out there from who knows what and this is what we have to deal with.” She dropped the receiver back on it’s base after having received no answer. Then spinning her chair around to face the interior of the newsroom, she bellowed out for all to hear. “Excuse me for interrupting all you busy little bees out there, but could someone tell me who took this message for me?” Before anyone had a chance to answer, she took a quick glance at the

memo looking for the date. “Oops, whoever it was you didn’t indicate the date.” She remained seated, swiveling herself from side to side as she waited for someone to reply. “Hey,” rang a voice from the far end of the room. “What’s the message say?” “Let’s see,” replied Marion. She squinted her eyes again so that she could read the message as accurately as possible. When she finished she raised her eyes to her coworkers waiting for an answer. “Come on guys, let’s not be bashful”. She waited only a moment longer before deciding it wasn’t that important. She had to finish clearing off her desk before heading out on her new assignment. Turning her chair back towards the front of her desk, she thoughtlessly tossed the pink message hoping to land it in the trash container along with the rest of them. Instead, the small piece of paper floated down short of it’s intended destination and landed inside the top drawer of the desk which sat idly open. Rather than take the time to remove it and try again, Marion simply closed the top drawer and finished sorting out the mess that remained before her. By the time her desk was clean and organized, Marion was exhausted. Looking at her watch she suddenly realized that she had worked straight through lunch and the entire afternoon. It was time to call it a day. She heard herself shouting ‘goodbye’ several times as her coworkers disappeared from their desks. By the time she was ready to leave the entire room was empty with the exception of old Benson the janitor who was already enthusiastically making his rounds. Marion jotted a last minute note to her boss Garrison, thanking him one last time for is . As she raced down to his dark office she heard the front door close. She left her note on Garrison’s desk hoping he would see it first thing in the morning. Taking a deep breath, Marion felt a wave of excitement come over her. This, she thought, was officially the beginning of her new assignment. She laughed and mumbled under her breath. “I have no idea where to begin. Oh well, at the beginning I guess.” She made one last stop at her desk to pick up a stack of files which she stuffed securely under her arm, then picking up her purse and empty coffee cup she headed for the door. As she was closing the door behind her, Marion heard the familiar and shallow voice of Benson calling for her to wait. Backing up a few paces and leaning up against the door to prevent it from closing, she met with his request. “I’m sorry,” said the janitor in a very apologetic tone. By the time he reached the door he was gasping for air. Each time Marion saw Benson she always noticed

how neat and clean his uniform was. It always amazed her because she was aware that Mrs. Benson had ed away twenty or more years ago. He was so self-sufficient for a man his age. Marion’s attention reverted back to the matter at hand. She watched as Benson raised a white envelope to her telling her that the note was just dropped off a few minutes ago. It was intended for her. She thought it was rather odd but thanked him for accepting it on her behalf. She slid the lip of the envelope open and pulled out the note just far enough to see what it was. At a glance Marion had no idea what the note attempted to say. Unable to move past the first sentence, Marion stuffed the note back inside the envelope wanting desperately to be on her way. She could not allow herself to be sidetracked. Smiling at Benson as he returned to work, she slipped the envelope inbetween the pages of one of the files lodged under her arm, then hastily hobbled down the steps and out to her car. The drive home seemed to last only minutes as her mind was preoccupied with what she was now faced with. She attempted to organize her thoughts deciding what course of action to take in order to get her foot in the door. She would need to begin at the beginning when the unexplained deaths began. Detailed information regarding the victims would have to be dredged up, and so forth and so forth. Fortunately, she had met many people in important places over the past six years as a reporter. She would have to use every connection possible at her disposal to help her gather the required information, it would save her time and a lot of extra leg work. Living on the out-skirts of town made her home comfortably quiet. There were no street lights to shine through her windows to keep her awake at nights, and on warm summer evenings she could sit back in her private yard and gaze at the stars. Having a middle class country home on a few acres of land had always been her dream. Thanks to her success as a reporter, she was able to make her dream a reality. When she arrived home, Marion showered and changed into her cozy sweats before preparing herself a light meal. She was anxious to begin her assignment so she carried her plate out into her livingroom and set it on the coffee table by the couch. Flopping herself down with an enormous telephone directory, she began flipping through the pages looking for Tate; Allison Tate. She was an old roommate from her college days. How they managed to be accepted into Yale, neither of them could figure out. Every time the question came up they both laughed themselves into tears. Since graduation neither of them had kept in

touch. Allison moved to Arizona to study desert life, and Marion decided to make Chicago her home in hopes of becoming a famous reporter. Only recently did Marion receive a postcard from Allison notifying her old roommate that she had moved back to Chicago sometime ago. Their lives were always so hectic that neither of them managed to set time aside to meet and talk about the good old days. “Now,” muttered Marion. “I need your help Al. Where are you hiding in this big city?” Her finger trailed down the list, one name at a time. Finally, there it was. Tate, Allison. “I guess you’re not married. Thank goodness; if you were, I may never have found you.” Picking up the cordless phone from the side table, Marion pressed the buttons, excited at the anticipation of hearing the familiar voice answer the line. As the phone continued ringing she became more and more discouraged. She had been counting on Allison to be her first stepping stone to get her started on this project. She leaned over toward the side table and was about to lower the phone from her ear when she was pleasantly surprised at the sound of a click. “Hello,” answered a low quiet voice. It was Allison. She was desperately fighting back the yawns after having worked a double shift. “Heh,” squealed Marion at hearing Allison’s voice. “What took you so long Al? I was about to hang up on you.” “Marion? Is that you?” asked Allison completely taken by surprise. “Where are you? What are you doing? God, it’s been so long.” “Hey Allison, I hope you don’t think bad of me; but this isn’t a social call. I’m afraid I don’t have time for a social life right now. I’ve been given this incredible opportunity by the ‘Chicago Informer’. That’s the paper I work for now. Anyway, I’m counting on you.” Marion was feeling like such a heel again. The second time in one day. She should have ed Allison a long time ago on a social level. If she had, then maybe now she wouldn’t feel like she was using her friend. She would have to make it up to Allison later on, after the clouds cleared. Right now this project had to take priority. “Allison? Please don’t be angry with me, I’ll explain it all to you later. Right now I’m stuck and maybe you can help me. back in Yale in our last year? You were dating a guy who was going through the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s training program. Do you who I’m talking about?” Marion squeezed her eyes tightly together and crossed her fingers hoping for the

right answer. “Yah, I know who you’re talking about. We dated quite some time after he completed their training exercises. He’s a full-fledged FBI man now.” She paused momentarily searching her memory for a name. “Let’s see,” she mumbled. “Gary…..or was it Jerry. Hum…Jerry. Yah that’s it. Jerry Wilcox. I could never forget his last name. It always reminded me of milk.” “Jerry Wilcox. Are you absolutely certain Allison? “Oh yah, absolutely. We had some great times together.” Allison attempted to hold back the snickers as she recalled the days with Jerry Wilcox. “Allison, I really need some inside information. The FBI, if anyone would know everything. Is there anyway at all you can Jerry and somehow do me… do us a favor? Oh please Allison, you have no idea how important this is.” Standing by the window now, Marion hoped for the best. “You know I’d do anything to help you. I can’t promise you anything. It’s been a few years since I last saw him. If he’s married, well…..that’s going to make things a bit more difficult.” Allison could no longer hold back the yawns. She apologized to Marion for not being more alive during their first phone conversation, but she did assure Marion that she would tackle her request first thing in the morning. Allison jotted down Marion’s home number and told her to sit tight. She would call back with an answer as soon as possible. Promise. Marion couldn’t thank her friend enough. She was still the big-hearted girl that she ed from their school days. She flopped herself back down on the couch feeling quite pleased. She pulled back the white lacy curtains that draped the window, and positioning herself on the middle of the couch, Marion gazed up at the clear, star-specked sky. She couldn’t imagine anything more beautiful than that sight above her. Her eyes became focused on the bright lights and for a moment she believed she had seen a shooting star streak across the sky. “Life on other planets,” she remarked. It was easy to believe that possibility when gazing up into the sky at that particular moment. “Maybe there is. There is so much space up there.” Marion sat and mused at the idea of other life forms sharing that vast universe. She wondered how they ed the time. Perhaps for them, time had no essence; not like humans on earth who plan their entire lives around the clock. Marion found the whole concept of aliens quite humorous. As

a reporter it was her duty to remain open-minded, but in this particular area she failed miserably. She would have to see it to believe it. Before closing the book on UFO’s and aliens, she ed the envelope that she had tucked away inside of the files she had lugged home from work. Needing to the time she felt her curiosity stir, so she ambled into the den where she had left the files. She had no idea where the envelope had lodged itself so she began shuffling through the pages one at a time. Her effort to find the note proved tiresome, and just as she was about to give up, presto! there it was. Marion slowly sauntered back out into the livingroom all the while staring at the closed white envelope in her hand. ing the couch she headed for the over-stuffed armchair in the corner of the room. Beside it stood a tall but curved halogen floor lamp that made reading from that chair less strenuous on the eyes. Carefully, as not to tear the paper, Marion opened the envelope and slid out the note. Almost immediately she felt a pang of familiarity about it. It was obvious from the beginning that this message was left by the same person who left the message at the office; however, there was still something else that bothered her. She racked her brains for the answer until she felt the start of a headache. Turning her attention to the actual message she read the words several times. “Some…..thing..strange a…..a…..about…..my neigh…bor.” She read the words several times and with much difficulty. Then it came to her. She had the same problem at the office. The handwriting was extremely messy as if written in a hurry. As her eyes burned through the page, she realized that both notes were written by the same person. No one in the office claimed to have taken the message in the first place, therefore, the author of the note had to have been at the ‘Chicago Informer’ in person. “But why?” she asked herself out loud. “Why would the writer of these words go to all the trouble of coming into the office just to leave a hand written message. Why wouldn’t he or maybe she, talk to me in person. Not only once but twice, and the second time I was there in person. Marion looked away from the paper for a moment before tackling the illegible writing again. “My neigh…. bor….sh….should be de….dead. He dis….a….disappeared 26 years a…..ago. Th….is…this man can….not be him.” Marion’s eyes strained themselves to the limit attempting to get through the sentences. “Why does it have to be so messy. It would be so nice just to be able to breeze through this.” Pulling her legs up onto the chair she continued. “He sp….speaks to the sky la….late at ni…..night.” Marion couldn’t help but laugh at that statement. “He speaks to the sky late at night. God, maybe the guys a werewolf.” Rolling her eyes in disbelief, she found it more and more difficult to take this person’s message seriously. Sliding the note back into the envelope, Marion laid it to rest on the small table beside her. She reached up and turned the lamp off allowing the moon’s light to cast a dim

light inside the room around her. Her eyes quickly became heavy and for the first time since arriving home, she felt exhausted. Only a few minutes ed before Marion drifted away fast asleep.

* * *

The following morning arrived completely unnoticed by Marion who was still sound asleep on the over-stuffed chair. It wasn’t until the phone burst out ringing that she jerked up in the chair and blinked at the sun’s light that streamed in through the window. She shook out the mist from her sleeping senses then thrust herself forward grabbing onto the phone. “Hello? hello?” she called out with urgency. Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of Allison’s voice. She had not expected her friend to call back so speedily. Immediately she assumed it was because she was not able to locate Jerry Wilcox. “Hello, Marion. It’s me Allison. Guess what? you’re in luck. I was able to Jerry, and you know what else? He’s not married. I have a date with him tonight. Now what?” Allison’s tone of voice was bouncy and full of life. She seemed thrilled to be seeing her old flame again. She waited for Marion’s reply. “Allison you dear friend. I just knew I could count on you. I need to talk to him Allison. It’s really important. I need information from him. Information that has been documented by the FBI. It’s not top secret or anything like that, a lot of it has been made public knowledge.” Allison interjected; “if it’s public knowledge then why do you need Jerry?” Shifting the receiver to the other ear, Marion answered. “The case I’m working on is a mystery to everyone. In order for me to begin my investigation I’m going to need the details, ALL the details. There may have been a few minor details that were never mentioned, those are the ones I’m desperate to get my hands on. I don’t know how strong his convictions are Allison, but if need be, could you turn on that irresistible charm of yours?” “You know I will. But there is one slight problem dearest friend; I’ll need to tell him in advance what case we want information on. He’ll need time to research

and gather the info you want. If he’s had no involvement in the case he’ll end up coming empty handed.” “You’re right,” stated Marion somewhat upset with herself for not thinking that far ahead. “Thank you for that shot of reality. The case has been labeled by the media and most every law enforcement agency as, ‘cause of death unknown’. It involves hundreds of deaths all around the globe. No one, and I mean NO one knows why they died and what caused their deaths. I just started on the case, and to be honest with you I’m lost. I need information.” Pausing a moment to catch her breath, Marion finished the conversation with one last plea. “Please Allison, convince Jerry to help. I’m just like all the others. We’re looking for the same answers.” “Got yah, I’ll do what I can. Plan on a dinner date for three tonight. That is, if I can tag along.” She waited anxiously hoping to be included in the clandestine meeting. “Yes of course Allison. How could I leave you out after making this whole thing possible. Or shall I say, tentative. If Jerry is willing to disclose this information to me, he’d probably feel more comfortable having you there to hold his hand.” “Thanks Marion. How does the very loud and extremely crowded Juggernut Cafe sound for a meeting place? We would blend into the crowd, and one thing is certain, no one would hear a word of what was being said. That might make Jerry feel a bit more at ease.” Marion smiled feeling a bit foolish. “You know Allison, rather than going out to a loud public establishment, I think it would be simpler to have the meeting right here at my place. It’s secluded and quiet and there would be less chance of me missing any of the details. I’m sure Jerry is allowed to have friends and a social life without having his coworkers worrying about where he is every minute.” “You’re absolutely right, as usual. I’ll have him there at eight PM sharp. If I can’t pull it off, I’ll call you. Sit tight Marion and I’ll see you later.” “Thanks Allison, see you tonight, eight o’clock sharp.”

CHAPTER 4

Marion was thrilled at how well things were turning out. She only hoped that Jerry Wilcox would come through for her that evening. The anticipation of not knowing what was in store for her later that day would inevitably eat away at her nerves until the momentous event arrived. Keeping herself busy was the logical thing to do and it would keep the stress level down. Her morning was productively spent in town picking up every newspaper printed and sold in the big city of Chicago. Her plan was to carefully scan through the pages one page at a time searching for more information concerning the ongoing deaths, no matter how small the detail. There had to be a key element linking these deaths together and for some strange unknown reason, no one had been able to find it. “Things don’t just happen without a reason,” she mumbled. “Maybe it’s some sort of conspiracy. Could they have been government guinea pigs used to test some new drugs? Maybe it backfired and now they’re trying to cover it up.” Marion continued to ponder the possibilities. “If it was a government foul up how would all those European countries fit in?” She swiftly blew off that idea. This thing was bigger than the U.S. Government. She arrived back home with an incredibly large stack of newspapers piled up in the front seat of her Camaro. Retrieving them all at once and balancing them in her arms was not a simple task. However, she did not want to waste valuable time making additional trips to and from the car so she staggered to the house being extra cautious to avoid dumping her load. She inched her way forward into the livingroom and upon reaching the couch, Marion lowered her tired arms and watched as the stack of papers spread themselves over the cushions like a blanket. Before jumping into the time consuming task of exhaustively scouring through the endless newspaper articles in hopes of finding some shred of evidence that she had so far missed, Marion decided her mind would perform more efficiently if she stopped long enough to eat. So far, that part of her normal routine had been neglected. Sitting at the kitchen table she stared totally disinterested at the ham and cheese sandwich and grapes that she had prepared. She gulped down a large glass of

milk without being aware of it, her mind was consumed with putting together a plan of action. Several times she found herself picking at her food, and with a little push managed to force food into her mouth. When she finally finished, she sped off through the kitchen door heading straight for the paper-littered couch. Grabbing the first paper within reach, Marion slid down the front of the couch and parked her body on the cold hardwood floor. Taking no chance of missing anything, she began with the front page and scanned each and every headline and article prompter, anything at all that resembled a piece of the puzzle. The hours ed by quickly. Marion had no idea that eight o’clock was creeping up. She had cut out several articles on the ‘unexplainable deaths’ from each and every newspaper. Somehow she was not surprised to learn that the death toll had continued to rise. It was obvious from reading several person-to-person interviews across the country, people were becoming frightened beyond words. Marion finally dropped the last paper on the floor beside her where she had placed all the others. She sat immobilized, an insurmountable wave of emotion rushed through her veins. She felt frightened, confused, angry, and most of all helpless. This invisible murderer that ravaged their lives walked silently leaving each time without a trace. “How can you fight something that you just can’t see?” she sneered angrily kicking the mass of papers scattering them across the floor. She threw her head back resting it on the edge of the soft couch cushion. She closed her eyes and waited as her nerves began to settle. The calming quietude surrounding the room shattered as the loud rapping of a fist filled the air. Marion’s body jerked at the sudden noise, and looking up at the clock resting on the wall to her left, she was surprised at the time. It was eight o’clock sharp. Marion ejected herself up and off the floor and quickly made her way to the front door. Opening the door with a yank, she sighed with relief at seeing Jerry Wilcox standing beside Allison. “Come in, please,” she offered with a warm friendly smile. Stepping back from the door she watched excitedly as the couple entered her home. “Hi there Marion. well, are you surprised?” asked Allison in her usual bouncy and light-footed personality. She was obviously still very much attracted to Jerry. She could barely keep her eyes away from him. “To be quite honest Al, I’ve been so busy today I forgot to check the clock on occasion. You guys caught me by surprise as you will plainly see when you enter my livingroom.” She flushed slightly feeling a bit embarrassed at the messy

condition of the room as she led them inside after having warned them first. “Well, you’ve definitely been busy,” chuckled Jerry Wilcox looking around the room at the scattered newspapers. “I have to it Marion, this expedition that you’re on is going to fit the term, ‘needle in a hay stack’. You’re an intelligent woman. You must know that every scientist and professional law enforcement agency is on top of this. If they can’t break this ‘thing’ what makes you think you can?” Marion pulled her hair back and positioned it behind her ears. She glanced down at the papers then turned and looked back up at Jerry. “I’m not saying that I can find the solution to this disaster. I’m not even suggesting that I may be able to find any leads but…….but I have to try. Not only as a reporter searching for the truth, but as a human being. I can’t just stand by and watch people die off like they are.” She was pleased to see Jerry’s face soften up. It appeared that he understood her desire and need to follow through on her assignment, and therefore be more willing to assist her with information. “Well, you’ve got my vote of confidence Marion,” stated Jerry. “What if you begin by telling me everything you already know. Then all I will have to do is fill in the blanks.” He smiled at Marion acknowledging his readiness to begin. Before they began, Marion disappeared into the kitchen excusing herself for a few minutes. She was confident that Allison would be able to entertain her old flame until she returned. Five minutes ed before she returned carrying a tray ladened with a pot of coffee and condiments. She made one last trip into the kitchen to retrieve a plate of crackers. She ignored the paper on the floor and simply walked over them anxious to begin. Once everyone was settled, Marion began methodically extracting bits and pieces of information that still existed fresh in her mind. By the time they had depleted their supply of hot coffee, the conversation from Marion’s end had begun to wind down. Now it was up to Jerry Wilcox to supply the rest. Scooting himself forward on the edge of the couch, Jerry cleared his scratchy throat several times in preparation to speak. “Okay, it looks like you’re all caught up on the public released information, everything the press was allowed to get their hands on. I’m afraid there’s a little more to it than that.” He stood up and walked away from the couch finding a resting place up against the far wall. Folding his arms in front of his chest he paused momentarily trying to figure out

the best way to start. “Let’s see,” he began feeling a tad nervous for sharing confidential information. “It seems to us that these deaths are occurring within major, industrialized cities around the world. There haven’t been any recorded cases in small out of the way cities. Approximately 57 percent of the victims are male, only 43 percent female. 70 percent of them were married. One thing that appears odd in all the cases is the fact that none, 0 percent of the victims were fathers or mothers.” Looking around at Allison and Marion expecting some sort remark, Jerry reiterated his last statement. “None of the victims had children. Doesn’t that seem strange ladies. You’d think that out of a few hundred people, most of them married, at least one of them would have had a child.” The room was eerily silent. Both Allison and Marion sat transfixed, staring at Jerry and glued to every word that flowed from his lips. Still receiving no reaction of any kind, Jerry shifted his weight from one leg to the other before continuing. “None of the victims had families. No mother, father, brothers or sisters. The only family they had were those stemming from the spouse’s side.” Jerry had left the scariest detail for last. This tied knots in his own stomach. He moved his hands over his head and rested them on his dark thinning hair finding comfort from the stretch. Marion saw a heaviness come over his face forcing the lines of age to become more prominent. That same heaviness seemed to permeate through the entire room sending a chill down her spine. She looked at Allison who sat numb waiting for that final detail. “Well Jerry, it’s now or never. Let’s have it.” Marion watched impatiently now as Jerry moved towards them. “Every single one of the victims was the same age…….40.” His words caused the reaction he knew it would. It was panic and fear. “Now you know why some of the information that was uncovered never made it into the hands of the press. Could you imagine the implications, the worldwide panic it would cause. More than 50 percent of the population is nearing 40 or already there.” Jerry felt himself cringe at the thought. He too fell into that age category. “Oh my God,” moaned Marion almost wishing she had not gotten herself involved with this. It was at times like this when too much knowledge was destructive not beneficial. “Jerry… you don’t think…..you couldn’t kn……”

Marion was lost for words. She felt her head spinning, her thoughts consumed with questions and speculations. Allison moved from her position for the first time during the entire course of the evening. She was visibly distraught probably wishing she had not been a part of the meeting. “Marion, do me a favor. The next time I want to stick my nose in where it doesn’t belong; please, oh please, tell me to mind my own business.” Allison stepped back and dropped herself down onto the couch then threw her hands up to cover her face. “Tell me this is a nightmare, please. I’m going to be 40 in eight months.” Marion moved over a foot so that she sat next to Allison. She laid her hand on her friend’s shoulder and while tapping it gently, she attempted to expel some words of comfort. “There there now Al, if it makes you feel any better, my birthday is coming up in 4 months.” At hearing herself say something so insignificant, instead of laughing like she would have done under more normal circumstances, Marion had to force back the tears. She desperately wanted to cry. Jerry cleared his throat loudly in hopes of distracting the two women. “Look Marion; whatever you do, don’t breath a word about what transpired here tonight. Losing my job is one thing but causing a global panic attack is another. Just between the three of us, I’ll do whatever I can to help.” Removing a card from his back pocket, Jerry handed his calling card to Marion. “If you need anything, anything at all, my numbers are right here. What the heck. At this point I may not have anything to lose.” He said his goodbye’s to Marion then taking Allison’s hand in his, led the way out. Marion stood glaring out of the front door into the darkness. It was another exceptionally clear night and the sky was illuminated by a million bright stars. She felt herself shiver, not from the cold but at the sight of yet another shooting star. It had been a long day for Marion and the meeting had lingered on much longer than she expected. Seeing that it was creeping up to midnight, she decided there was nothing more for her to do. Not until tomorrow.

CHAPTER 5

Marion tossed and turned all night. The information Jerry Wilcox shared with her hours ago remained fresh in her mind reeking havoc with her desire to sleep. She had dragged herself out of bed several times during the course of the evening each time finding herself pacing her bedroom floor or gazing out of the window at the stars. Not one detail connected with this case made any sense. Marion’s professional instinct told her there had to be more to it but how was she going to prove it? By the time the clock beside her bed revealed the bright red numbers indicating 8 o’clock AM, Marion, although tired beyond words, welcomed the new day. Having spent her sleepless night planning out her day she wasted no time in getting started. She showered and changed quickly then advanced into the kitchen for a light breakfast. “The police station,” she muttered out loud to herself, “that’s my first stop. I have to get my hands on a list of the local victims.” She lifted her large gray coffee mug to her lips taking great pleasure in it’s strong appealing aroma as she drank several mouthfuls. As she set the mug gently on the table she continued to verbalize her plan of action. “Once I have that list I’ll be able to find out more about them……yes…..I want to know EVERYTHING about them.” She swallowed her last bite of breakfast leaving the dishes scattered on the kitchen table. Making certain that she did not leave anything of importance behind she bolted out of the front door. Arriving at Chicago’s third precinct Marion walked in with the utmost of confidence. She pulled her I.D. badge out from her purse and clipped it on the lapel of her jacket. As she sauntered in among the busy precinct employees her reporter status was immediately recognized. As she approached the reception desk the officer-in-charge greeted her with a welcome smile. “What can we do for you Miss……” He leaned forward straining his eyes at the small writing on her I.D. card in hopes of reading her name. “Oh, Miss Stevenson. Hey you’re that sharp reporter who works for the ‘Chicago Informer’ aren’t you? Yah, you’re pretty darn good. So what can we do for you?” He leaned forward again, this time resting his elbows on the counter’s smooth

surface. “I’m working on a case right now and I really need some information.” Marion wanted to continue, but on the spur of the moment thought it best if she spoke directly to the proper person rather then reveal her business interests to just anyone. “I would like to speak with your captain if he’s in.” “Yah, Becker’s in. Let me see if he’s available.” The officer lifted his elbows from the counter then retreated into the back office. Less than five minutes ed when he showed up donning a positive grin. “You’re in luck Miss Stevenson. He’s available to see you. See that door over there? He’s in there. I hope you get what you’ve come for.” Marion moved in the direction of his pointing finger. As she past by him she thoughtfully extended him an appreciative thankyou. Tapping lightly on the Captain’s door she was greeted by a loud invitation to enter. She entered briskly into the small and obviously low budget office ready to conduct business on behalf of the ‘Chicago Informer’, by beginning their meeting with a polite and formal shake of the hand. When the formalities had been taken care of, Marion boldly jumped in keeping her personal feelings at bay. She made the visit appear to be purely of a business nature. “I’m sorry to bother you, I won’t keep you longer than necessary. I’m here on behalf of my newspaper of which you’ve already been made aware of. My new assignment involves the unexplainable deaths that have been occurring throughout the world over the last three months. As you probably……..” Marion was not able to finish her speech. Captain Becker began shaking his head in disapproval and waved his hand at her, motioning her to stop. “I’m sorry Miss Stevenson but I can’t help you. That case….well…it’s dead. I can’t give…” This time it was he who was interrupted, unable to finish. He could see how urgent Marion’s visit was. “I haven’t told you yet what it is that I’m requesting. It’s really quite simple and it should be public knowledge.” She paused momentarily and when she was certain he would not immediately interject, she continued. “All I need is the list of names. The names of the victims here in Chicago. It shouldn’t take but a minute to run it through your computers.” Marion waited anxiously for his response. She moved closer to his small well-worn desk wanting to grab the man

by the collar and demand his cooperation immediately. She found it difficult to restrain her emotions in this particular case. Having to suppress them was wrenching away inside of her. Sitting down abruptly and unexpectedly in his ripped black leather chair, Becker began to fumble through the papers cluttering his desk. Without even looking at Marion he blurted out in an angered voice, “I’m a busy man Miss Stevenson. I can’t help you. I’m sorry but you’ll have to leave.” “But Captain Becker, I…” Again she was unable to finish her thoughts. She was becoming flustered and annoyed at his rude and disrespectful behavior. Marion stepped back and took a deep breath in attempts of regaining her stance. “Look Captain Becker, the public has a right to know who has died. We already know that the cause of death has not been determined but that doesn’t give the authorities the right to withhold the victims’ names. We have the right to….” “Look Miss Stevenson, even I have my orders. Right now as things stand, I have to ask you to leave.” Glaring into her eyes and seeing the confusion draped over her smooth pretty face, Becker held tight to his position. “Now good day Miss Stevenson.” His expression had become cold and indifferent as he lowered his eyes back down to the papers on his desk. Marion backed up towards the door unable to tear her eyes away from the man slumped over the desk. She found it uncomfortably odd how quickly his demeanor had changed after hearing her request. Closing the door behind her, she hurried out through the doors of the third precinct totally unprepared for that negative reaction. She jumped into the Camaro and in a sudden rush of anger and disappointment slammed her fists onto the dashboard above the steering wheel. “Damn,” she hollered. “What’s going on? Something more has got to be wrong here. I just feel it.” She remained parked alongside the curb in front of the police station while she decided how to proceed to plan B. It was clear to her now that her position as a reporter had no significance in this case. If anything it acted as an encumbrance. Her next stop was the city morgue. There she would have to use another less threatening approach. Having made that decision, Marion threw the car in gear and merged into the flow of traffic. As usual the downtown streets of Chicago were heavily congested making her trip extremely slow. It’s only benefit was in allowing Marion to conjure up a scheme to get her foot into the door of the morgue. Unfortunately, her trip was

delayed an hour by a serious car accident which had disabled several vehicles in the middle of the streets in both directions making movement impossible. She was unable to sit it out so she left the hot confines of her car and spent the hour pacing impatiently around it. As emergency vehicles cleared the mess, the frustrated motorists caught in the bumper-to-bumper traffic cursed through their open windows for all to hear. Marion refrained from the pettiness using the extra time to her advantage. She was already concocting a plan C, just in case. She finally found Jefferson Street and turning south onto the narrow two lane road, traveled five blocks to her destination, the Chicago City Morgue. Due to the narrow street, the city morgue was fortunate to have it’s own parking lot. Marion crept up slowly to avoid missing the entrance and finding a parking space in the shade, she parked her car. When she stepped out from the car she noticed her I.D. tag was still clipped to her jacket so she removed it and placed it inside of her purse. She was counting on not being recognized by the morgue employees so that she could pull off her plan. Opening the buttons on her jacket and shaking her head roughly from side to side to fluff up her neat hairdo, she trudged into the building with a much heavier footing. Marion began her trek down one hallway and down a staircase. As she neared the room holding the dead bodies, she was flagged down by a thin short woman with a squeaky voice. “Excuse me Miss, but you’re not allowed to go in there without authorization.” She lumbered up to Marion wearing a drab-green oversized gown. When Marion did not respond to her statement the woman asked, “do you have authorization to go in there?” “Ah, well, no not really. I…I came to see if my neighbor was here.” Marion felt overly foolish. She was not very good at lying. “Your neighbor? Does he or she work here? If so, if you tell me the name I’ll be able to tell you if they’re here.” She smiled at Marion clearly pleased to help her out. “Ah, nope…I meant my neighbor who went missing last week. I was told that perhaps he met up with some bad luck and ended up here. The police told me that often times people are brought in here their features so messed up they sometimes go unidentified. I’d like to go in and take a look if that’s all right?” God, she listened to her words and thought how ridiculous she sounded. She was so transparent and so unbelievable.

The short woman thought nothing of Marion’s excuse for being there. She signaled Marion to follow her as she waddled down the hall towards the refrigerated room. Before opening the door she stopped and asked, “what’s your neighbor’s name?” Marion froze suddenly realizing there was a glitch in her scheme. “I… I’m….well…I’m not sure,” she finally spit out. She felt another problem festering before her eyes. The woman who had been so anxious to help Marion out had now retreated. She stopped at the doors and spinning around to look at Marion she asked, “what did you say?” Marion was caught off guard. She tried not to stammer and fumble for words. It was imperative that her words flow freely in order to sound more convincing. “I’m sorry I guess I didn’t explain the situation clearly enough. My neighbor had just recently moved in next door. He was an elderly man, very private. You know how it is with some older folks they like to keep to themselves. Anyway, I kind of made it my business to check up on him several times. All of a sudden he was gone. He hasn’t been back to his place in days. I was afraid that maybe somebody mugged him or something.” Marion slumped her shoulders and relaxed her eyes emitting an air of grave concern. “We really didn’t have time to get to know one another and now that I think of it, it does seem pretty strange that in the few weeks that I had known him, I could never is name.” By now Marion was begging herself to drop this crazy charade and just run for the exit door. But much to her surprise, the short woman with the squeaky voice accepted her lies. “Oh, all right then. Follow me.” She pushed open the large metal doors and waited as Marion walked in. “Let’s see, where shall we begin? You said your neighbor was male, correct?” “Yes,” replied Marion becoming very nervous at the idea of having to look at dead bodies, especially since she didn’t come there to do that. She just wanted to get inside to ask questions. As the woman began pulling doors open and sliding out bodies, Marion held her stomach with her hands becoming more and more nauseous at the sight of another cold, white stiff. Looking ahead of her, she could see that there were many more bodies contained in the cold storage bins. She had no choice but to put a stop to this, NOW. “You know, doesn’t it seem

strange all those people dying all of a sudden?” I bet some of these storage bins are holding some of those poor guys.” Marion was startled at the woman’s reaction to her simple and unthreatening remarks. The woman froze for a second. Her face paled and then with a sudden and unexpected burst of energy she slammed the door containing the body resting next to them. Glaring at Marion she yelled, “you need to leave. I don’t appreciate people making a fool out of me. If you came here digging for information, forget it. I don’t know anything. Now leave!!” The woman was irate and made no attempt to hide it. Marion knew she had no choice but to leave. Just like Captain Becker this woman was nervously hiding something. It seemed like everyone who had some sort of involvement with this case were all unable or unwilling to discuss the matter. But why? Marion thought. Why? She left the morgue trembling from the entire ordeal. She was frustrated beyond words. She wanted to know the names of the victims in Chicago. She could not possibly worry about victims from other areas at this time. Beginning the search for the truth would be simpler on her home turf. Or at least that’s what she thought. How was she going to get a list of the names? How? She racked her brains continually as she drove the distance between the morgue and her home. When she arrived she was hot and tired. On entering the front door she kicked off her white canvas shoes and removed her stockings. Once in the comfort of her livingroom, Marion removed her jacket and tossed it onto the couch, completely detached from the mess that was accumulating around her. She had become so distracted with recent events that her conscientious housekeeping chores were falling behind. As she dropped herself defeatedly on the couch, she noticed a small white business card lying on the coffee table. Pushing herself forward, Marion reached over and picked the card up. It belonged to Jerry Wilcox. She ed him giving it to her and offering his services. At that thought she grabbed the telephone and began dialing. Listening to the rings and counting them, she waited for the line to be picked up. When it finally happened she heard his familiar voice answer, ‘hello’. “Hello? Jerry? It’s me, Marion Stevenson. Can you talk.?” She crossed her fingers for good luck as she had done numerous times before. If anyone could

help her now, it had to be Jerry. Being on the inside of things and having undergone extensive investigative training made Jerry the only possible key to her success. “Jerry I need your help. Please, you told me last night you’d be there if I needed you.” She explained in detail what had happened to her at the police station and at the morgue and how everyone refused to talk about the deaths. As she spoke Jerry listened attentively. Marion couldn’t stress enough her desire to obtain the names of the victims. “Jerry, you know the FBI is fully involved in the investigations. Being an FBI agent yourself and having the necessary credentials on you, it would be easy for you to slip into that morgue flashing that badge of yours insisting they give you access to their files. The bodies had to have gone through there. Oh and Jerry, what happens to the bodies after an autopsy? According to my boss they’ve all been checked out from the inside out. Maybe you can get your hands on the results.” Pausing briefly to check her thoughts, Marion finished her conversation with one last plea. “Please Jerry, I need you.” “Marion, I don’t know about this. I agree with you that things don’t seem to add up, but if I get caught using my credentials for the wrong purpose I could lose my job and a lot more.” Marion reminded him of one slight detail. “You know Jerry, you’re pushing 40 like the rest of us. If we don’t figure out what’s going on here and stop it……you may not live long enough to worry about holding onto your job.” The phoneline fell silent. Marion knew she struck a nerve. She was certain that she had accomplished her goal which was to win him over. “Hello? Jerry are you still there?” Jerry’s voice appeared back on the line. It was low and quiet after having realized the truth in her words. “Yes Marion, I’m here. I’ll do what I can but I can’t promise you anything. I’ll be in touch with you soon.” Without saying goodbye, the line clicked then went silent. Marion sat with her head resting up against the back of the couch still holding the receiver next to her ear lost in her thoughts. When she heard the operator’s voice come onto the line repeating the phrase, ‘hang up and try again’, Marion snickered and mimicked the recording five or six times before placing the receiver back on it’s base. “Okay Jerry Wilcox,” she sneered victoriously. “It’s all up to us; you and me.”

CHAPTER 6

Since making the call to Jerry late that afternoon, Marion had busied herself with the stack of newspaper articles that she had been saving since the story broke. After cleaning up the array of papers from the night before that she had scattered in frustration, she began the tedious but necessary task of sorting the articles. She created categories, some by date of event, place of event and whenever possible by gender. When she finished placing the articles in their respective groups she began studying the groups one at a time over and over again. She looked up at the clock several times throughout the course of the evening hoping to hear back from Jerry. When his call did not come and midnight arrived, Marion had no choice but to call it a day. She left the piles of articles on the floor with the intention of picking up where she had left off. It would give her something to do while she waited for that phonecall. Again as the night before, Marion found it difficult to sleep. She finally gave in to insomnia and at 3 AM found herself sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee and jotting down a list of things to do. At 7 AM she picked up the phone and dialed her boss’s number at the ‘Chicago Informer’. “Hello? Mr. Garrison, it’s me Marion. I need the phone number to our in Frankfurt.” “What in blazes are you up to lady?” growled Garrison. “You really are taking this assignment seriously, aren’t you?” “Of course I am. I take all my assignments seriously. However, this one is more personal. Now, could I have that number?” She could here Mr. Garrison shuffling through papers on his desk. She held on firmly to her pen holding it close to her note paper ready to write. “Are you still there Marion?” asked Garrison coming back on the line. “Here’s the number.” He carefully and slowly voiced each of the thirteen digits then on completing the information repeated it again to make sure Marion did not miss anything. “Thanks Mr. Garrison, I owe you one.” Marion was just about to hang up when she caught the sound of her boss’s voice drift through her end of the line.

“What did you mean by that remark earlier, something about this thing being personal?” He expected her to answer but to his surprise she remained silent. “I don’t know what’s going on Marion, but I’m warning you; be careful. We need you here.” Marion quickly said goodbye before disconnecting the line. Staring at the thirteen digit number she took a deep breath before lifting the receiver again. As she pressed the buttons she spoke the numbers out loud. There were several clicks as she was transferred through the phone lines between the U.S. and . She was relieved when an English speaking voice answered her call. “Hello, Frankfurt Freie Welt Papier. Wilson speaking.” When the man heard Marion’s voice ask ‘who’? He quickly translated the name of the establishment for her benefit. “Frankfurt Free World Paper.” Then he paused, waiting for her to take over the conversation. “Hi there Wilson; my name’s Marion Stevenson. I’m a reporter for the ‘Chicago Informer’. I’m working on a case involving all the unexplained deaths that are popping up all over the place. All I want are names of victims but I keep running into brick walls over here. I thought maybe you guys had access to the names of victims over there in . If so, how did you get them and can I have them?” She prayed for a positive response. “Sorry Marion, I can’t help you right now. It’s not because I don’t want to, but it’s because we don’t have that information. I tell you what. Give me until tomorrow and I’ll have that information for you. Let me grab a pen and paper so I can take your number down.” Marion heard him put the phone down and after a minute he returned giving her the go ahead to send her number through the line. Having completed that, Marion felt a spark of hope shoot through her veins. She spent the remainder of the day at home waiting for the phone to ring. As she paced the room she mumbled repeatedly to herself, “come on Jerry, where are you. Call me please.” The hours ed as if in slow motion, the anticipation was killing her. She read the articles over and over again hoping something new would pop up for her eyes to see. By late afternoon her eyes throbbed with pain from the enormous strain she was placing on them. Her sleepless nights were beginning to catch up to her and before she realized it, she had plunged herself

face first onto the comfortable couch and without any effort had fallen fast asleep. Her exhausted state had caused her to sleep heavily and undisturbed preventing her from hearing the telephone as it rang persistently until the answering machine finally picked up.

* * *

Jerry walked into the Chicago morgue with the intention of keeping his visit short and sweet. He would use his badge to gain access to the files, extract the information he needed then get the hell out of there. On entering the building he stopped a morgue employee in the main floor hallway asking for directions to the file room. Without hesitation, the man pointed the way up to the second floor. Jerry climbed the stairs two at a time arriving on the second floor in less than a minute. Turning the corner he read the sign which hung above a doorway half way down the hall. It read ‘Morgue Files’. He increased his pace only slowing down to enter the door. Once inside he moved up to the counter that separated the reception area from the actual file room. The walls were lined from floor to ceiling with gray file cabinets. As he approached the counter, the man in charge of the files sauntered up greeting Jerry with a friendly smile. “Hello, what can I do for you?” He rested his hands on his sides looking very relaxed and happy to see a visitor. Managing the file room was a simple low-key job which did not require more than one person. Therefore, he found himself alone and bored amidst the vast number of files finding enormous pleasure in receiving the occasional visitor. Removing his FBI identification from his inside jacket pocket, Jerry raised it in clear view for the man to see. “I’m here to borrow some files. It’s for an investigation we’re working on.” He could feel his body tense up. He had never before compromised his career in this fashion and hoped he would never again have to. “Certainly Mr…..Mr…what did you say your name was?” The man behind the counter waited to learn his visitor’s name. It wasn’t every day that an important

government man stopped by to visit. It was only the second time in two weeks. He seemed pretty lucky. “Uh, it’s…uh…Wilcox.” Jerry’s voice cracked as he attempted to repeat his name in a quiet tone, hoping it wouldn’t become etched inside the man’s memory banks. “Wilcox you say; well Mr. Wilcox, which files are you requesting?” He bent down and removed a thick binder from beneath the counter. It was a master directory which gave him quick access to the exact location of any file. It was easier than fumbling through dozens of filing cabinets all housing names beginning with the same letter. Jerry placed his hand over his mouth and coughed. When he began to speak his voice was scratchy and due to his nervousness, it tended to fade in and out. He tried to cough it away several more times. Thinking to himself he said, “come on Wilcox. Get it over with.” So, straightening his posture and taking a more aggressive stand, Jerry blurted out his request. “I need the files labeled ‘cause of death unknown’. I’m sure you’re aware of what I’m talking about. The bodies from the Chicago area would have been transported here. Isn’t that correct?” “Yes they most certainly were. I must tell you though, they weren’t here long. Two days tops.” The man stopped to scratch the top of his head. He began tapping his fingers on the binder as if sorting through his thoughts. “Yes go on,” said Jerry with a tone of urgency in his voice. “Where did they go after two days?” His curiosity was beginning to peak. “Let’s see, some guys toting signed release papers giving them authority to take the bodies paid me a visit. I inspected the papers thoroughly and sure enough, they were official. Straight from Washington D.C. they were, yap.” “Well, where did they say they were taking the bodies? The papers should have given the transport of the bodies a destination.” Jerry felt himself growing more and more anxious. “Well?…” “Sure they did. They were being taken to Chicago General for an autopsy. It was all prearranged. I them telling me to hurry with g off the release

forms. They had a schedule to keep.” Jerry spun around heading straight for the door. Stopping short, he turned to the man who was still standing in the same spot behind the counter. “Excuse me, but it’s really important that I see your files on those bodies. Would you mind getting them for me?” Jerry ambled back up to the counter. “I’m in a big hurry too, please locate the files for me.” “Sorry guy, no can do. One of your boys beat you to the punch.” Leaning on the counter the man broke a smile. “What? One of my boys? What exactly do you mean by that?” asked Jerry overcome with bewilderment. “Just like I said. One of your guys from the Federal Bureau of Investigations stormed in here demanding the files on those poor stiffs. He wasn’t at all like you. He was a bit tempermental, real edgy he was. Anyway just like the guys who picked up the bodies, this government man dropped a stack of official papers on my counter this high.” The man raised his hand upward indicating to Jerry just how much paperwork he had to deal with. “Yah, by the time I read through all that government jibber jabber my head was spinning. But as I said, everything was signed and sealed by the big guys in Washington. I had to hand over every shred of information contained in those files. It surprised me, if anything I would think the information obtained by the autopsies would be more in-depth and more helpful then the scant personal details of the bodies we had on file here.” Jerry had heard enough at this point. He left the man standing behind the counter without saying a word. He bolted out from the file room and raced out from the building and into his car. His next stop would be Chicago General. The hospital was only a few streets away so it didn’t take him long to arrive. He had already determined that stopping anywhere in the hospital other then the ’s Office would be a mere waste of time. Stopping at the first floor reception desk, Jerry memorized the lengthy directions that would lead him six stories up, down several hallways and across a skywalk which would eventually lead him into the wing where the Hospital ’s Office was located. On arriving in the office he was met with a thirty minute wait which only fueled his frustrations. He was finally called in and apologized to for having kept him waiting. Apparently the secretary neglected to mention that Jerry Wilcox was from the

Federal Bureau of Investigations. Had the middle-aged Hospital known Jerry’s position, he would have rearranged his schedule to speed things up. However, he attempted to make Jerry comfortable and offered whatever assistance was available at his disposal. The , Mr. Thomas prided himself of his hospital’s clean reputation and made every effort to keep it that way. “So, what brings the FBI to our door? We haven’t done anything wrong have we?” He squirmed around in his large leather chair until he was comfortably settled in. Then pulled his chair forward and positioning it under the front of his desk, he extended Jerry Wilcox his undivided attention. Jerry was in no mood to play games. He blurted out the reason he was visiting Chicago General explaining his futile visit to the city morgue. “Apparently it’s you who is in a position to give me the information I’m looking for. You were the last to see the bodies…..and.” Before he was allowed to finish, Mr. Thomas interjected. “I don’t know who gave you this information about Chicago General doing the autopsies but it’s wrong. We did not do the autopsies, as a matter of fact, the bodies you are talking about had never been on our premises. It’s not like we didn’t want them. Oh no, we would have loved to have that chance of searching for a cause of death. Don’t get me wrong,” he snickered. “It’s not like we get a thrill from cutting people open. It would have been great publicity for our hospital, especially if we were the ones who uncovered the mystery surrounding the deaths.” Jerry sat silently assessing the ’s words. He had to be absolutely certain before he left the hospital if this man was being honest or if he too was trying to hide something. Mr. Thomas stood up knowing full well what Jerry was thinking. He extended the FBI agent a personal invitation to him down in the basement where the autopsy rooms were located. He was given permission to talk to the staff and ask whatever questions he deemed necessary. Jerry took full advantage of the offer. To his dismay he turned up empty-handed. By the time he made his rounds and questioned everyone from the doctors, lab technicians, nurses and secretaries, the well came up dry. He thanked everyone

for their cooperation, then fighting off the disappointment at not having accomplished anything, he left the premises for home.

* * *

Three hours had ed since Marion had fallen fast asleep. When she finally awoke, she sat up and looked around wiping the sleep from her eyes. Looking slightly to her left at the small table that harbored the telephone, she caught sight of the red flashing light on the phone indicating to her that a message had been left while she was sleeping. She jumped to her feet feeling her heart thunder against the walls of her chest. “This is it,” she whispered. “Let this be Jerry.” Pressing the message button she hovered above the answering machine waiting for his familiar voice. “Hello Marion, it’s me, Jerry.” Marion’s heart skipped a beat as the adrenaline rushed through her veins. She leaned forward from the waist bringing her ear closer to the speaker. She did not want to miss anything. She listened and listened as he explained the results of his visits to the morgue and to the hospital. Marion was shocked. As the end of the message ended with a beep, she sat down on the chair in the corner of the room staring at the floor. She began mulling over the new turn of events. It struck an eerie note, the fact that the bodies were picked up at the morgue by government officials with the intention of taking them to Chicago General to have the autopsies performed, but they never showed up. Not only that, but Chicago General knew nothing of their scheduled arrival. “So where did they end up at?” she asked herself. “Where are the bodies? Damn it!” She picked up the telephone desperately wanting to talk to Jerry. She dialed the number and listened as the phone rang and rang. He was not at home. Marion placed her hands over her face wondering what to do next. She noticed a piece of paper stuck between the arm of the chair and the seat cushion so she yanked it out. She recognized it right away because of the illegible handwriting that had strained her eyes on two occasions. She looked at it again and still found it strangely amusing. ‘My neighbor is alive but should be dead’. “Oh God, I might get desperate enough to check this out.” As she considered her statement, she was startled by the shrilling ring of the phone.

“Hello?” she answered. “Hello? Is this Marion Stevenson?” asked a man’s voice on the other end of the line. “Yes? This is she.” Marion did not recognize the caller. “This is Wilson from the Frankfurt Freie Welt Papier. You asked me if I could get you some names, ?” “Yes,” answered Marion anxiously, what were you able to get me? She was thrilled that something was finally coming through for her. “Nothing,” answered Wilson. “I’m sorry, but we tried every source available to us over here. We keep coming up blank. No names Marion. Sorry; I don’t know what’s going on over here.” “Don’t be sorry Wilson, it’s not your fault. I’m not at all surprised at this point.” Marion didn’t have the energy to go into details. She really didn’t think it would help any even if she did. “Thanks Wilson for trying.” Marion placed the receiver on it’s base and with a tone of conviction and certainty in her voice she stated; “there’s a conspiracy brewing here.”

CHAPTER 7

Marion fell asleep the previous evening slouched in the large chair in the corner of her livingroom. When she awoke that morning she groaned with pain as she tried to move her neck. Her legs had become numb from having been wedged in beneath her and slowly the pins and needle sensation kicked in adding to her misery. She had slept in longer than she had anticipated; it was her desire to get an early start that day. Instead of following her usual routine of showering first thing in the morning, Marion decided to skip that particular ritual and dive into her work. After she worked out the aches and pains in her sore and tired body, she stood up ready to begin. As she dragged herself out of the livingroom into the kitchen she became aware of the paper lodged in the grip of her hand. Raising it to eye level, she immediately recognized the paper as being the one with the messy and incredulous message scribbled on it. Before giving it another thought, Marion set it down on the kitchen table. After preparing breakfast she would perhaps give it the benefit of the doubt and maybe, just maybe consider checking the story out. Before moving forth on that particular project she would have to Jerry Wilcox to decide on their next plan of action. Marion hastily made her way into her den where the cordless phone had sat idle for days. Picking it up, she carried it back into the kitchen where she rested it on the kitchen table beside the note. Brewing up a pot of coffee and buttering two slices of toast, she placed her breakfast on the table in front of her then sat down. As she chewed her toast laboriously washing it down every now and again with her hot coffee, Marion stared at the phone wishing for it to ring. By the time she finished her second slice of toast she could not wait any longer. She grabbed the phone from the table and eagerly pressed the numbers of Jerry’s home phone. She counted a dozen rings before hanging up. Looking at his calling card, Jerry’s business number was also listed. Marion hesitated before ringing the number up. The last thing she wanted was to arouse any suspicions at his place of employment. Her name could easily be recognized by someone who regularly viewed the local news. Her specialty was conducting live reports covering crisis situations and events. If the FBI was involved in any sort of conspiracy to coverup the unusual deaths and if they got wind of her investigating the case, it wouldn’t be long before they discovered Jerry’s involvement in helping her investigation. That thought prompted her to reconsider and abandon her original

plan to him especially at his office. She would have to sit back and wait for him to her. When the time was right she felt confident that his call would come. Rather then wait unproductively, she decided to make a house call to the author of the letter that she was now holding in her hand. Scanning the note for an address or a phone number she was able to make out what appeared to be a rural address. Dragging herself back into the den, Marion opened up a desk drawer containing a city map and it’s surrounding areas. Sitting down at the desk she opened it up and easily located the county road. As she studied the letter more thoughtfully, she discovered that the home’s number was not written clearly. It was impossible to make out. Marion slammed the map back down into the drawer shouting to the air around her, “damn it, why does everything have to be so difficult? This lunatic insists I should come out to his place to check out his crazy neighbor and he can’t even give me a clear address. Damn, damn, and damn!” Marion’s frustration was mounting. She was not about to sit back idly. She was determined to accomplish something, anything. Scurrying around the kitchen attempting to leave it in respectable condition, Marion knew what she had to do. She would have to drive into town and stop in at the office. There she would extract the original message that her unidentified author had delivered to her. She ed seeing it drift into the top drawer of her desk as she made the attempt of throwing it into the trash bin the day she received the assignment and cleared off her desk.

* * *

Marion arrived at the ‘Chicago Informer’ shortly before noon. As she pulled up in her blue Camaro, her attention was suddenly drawn to large commotion leaving the building. She recognized the people. They were a group of reporters and camera men who she was accustomed to working with on many of her previous assignments; but where were they rushing off to in such a hurry. She raced over to the crowd frantically searching for answers. “What’s going on guys? Where are you going?” she hollered above the clamor. Marion found herself ducking trying to avoid a blow to the head with a swaying camera.

“Heh Marion, we just tried to get a hold of you less than twenty minutes ago. We thought you’d want to be there.” The woman who spoke was one of the paper’s substitute reporters. She gave Marion the thumbs up. “What are you talking about Fran? Tell me what’s going on.” Marion tensed up and felt the ground firm beneath her feet. “Another death; this one’s out on the back-roads. They think it’s one of yours. The guy’s wife found him. Said he was healthier than a horse. She can’t explain it.” The woman excused herself and ran off into the building. She had left something behind. Marion took the opportunity to run into the office and grab the message from her desk. It would save herself from having to make another trip to the office later. She opened the top drawer, and there it was right where she had left it. She snatched it up and as she raced out the door she stashed it into her purse. “Are you coming?” shouted a voice belonging to one of the camera men. He held the door of the News van open waiting for Marion to pile in. “Yes I’m coming but I’ll follow you in my car. Give me a minute to pull up will you?” She ran excitedly to her car and breathlessly panted as she dropped herself into the front seat. Throwing it into gear and carelessly backing out from her space, Marion pulled up behind the white and yellow van. She did not have time to ask for an address and directions so she made it a point to lock her eyes on the van’s rear. Speculations developed without any encouragement from Marion. If this is what it appeared to be she was not about to take her sight off the dead man. She would follow it’s movement every step of the way. They drove for forty minutes before hitting the edge of the city. From there they traveled for miles on winding dirt roads nothing to see but wide open fields. Up in the distance, Marion finally made out what appeared to be several houses nestled side-by-side on either side of the road. It had to be a very small town. She looked at the houses as they drove by them until the red brake lights of the van caught her attention. They pulled into a long narrow laneway leading up to a small white house. The paint was peeling in places and the porch roof was hanging slightly to one side. She remained in her car until the dust from the moving vehicles settled, then she pulled out her notepad that she carried in her glove compartment. Stepping out from her car she moved in the direction of the house watching as her fellow reporters hungry for the scoop stampeded the newly

widowed woman with a thousand questions. Marion’s heart went out to the poor woman but it was a job that had to be done. For the first time since arriving on the premises, she noticed the emergency vehicles parked in the rear of the house. They were preparing to transport the dead man to the city morgue. Now Marion had to decide whether to stay and listen to what the man’s wife had to say or follow the ambulance back to the city. After several minutes of deliberation she decided to follow the body as she had planned earlier. Marion walked quickly along side of the house heading for the rear. Two of her coworkers maneuvered their news camera with precision around the emergency staff who worked frantically to wrap up the job. For some unexplained reason, the cameras were not allowed to be focused in on the dead man’s body. Marion turned at the sound of other vehicles approaching from behind her. News crews from other stations barreled out from their vans with their cameras ready. Before too long the property was crawling with news crews and curious spectators. She found it difficult to move without bumping up against someone. While the body was being loaded into the ambulance Marion listened as several reporters spoke to the public through their respective cameras. She had to shake her head several times in order to keep her mind from becoming distracted. She had listened to the same phrase over and over again coming from each of the reporters: “We’re here at the Burgess residence at 3313 County Road outside the city of Chicago where we seem to be faced with yet another unexplained death…..” Another reporter scrambling on the scene began her report in a similar manner. “Well folks,” she sighed. “Here we are at 3313 County Road outside of our fair city of Chicago where it appears we’re faced with yet another unexplained death….” When Marion saw the ambulance preparing to leave, she quickly ran to her car and cautiously maneuvered it out and away from the crowd. She positioned herself behind the ambulance as it sat waiting in the laneway for people to clear out of the way. As she sat waiting in her car something familiar became visible to her. “County Road,” she mumbled to herself. “What is it about that name?” Then, as if a light bulb turned on in her head, it came to her. She rummaged through her purse until she pulled out the pink message paper that she had picked up at the office just prior to coming to this scene. She turned the paper over until she spotted the address. “Presto!” she exclaimed feeling very pleased. This was the road that she had hoped to find later on that day. Now she would have no difficulty finding it. She took one last glance at the note paper then noticing the ambulance begin to move forward, she dropped it on the enger seat beside her. She followed their lead down the laneway and onto the road for a

short distance before her foot slammed on the brakes. She pulled her Camaro over to the side of the road overcome with shock. She took a deep breath then looked down at the paper beside her. She snatched it up and glared at the address. “Oh my God,” she uttered sharply. “The author of this note lives at 3313 County Road. Raising her eyes to the rearview mirror, she could see the small white house behind her. “That poor woman being torn apart by all those vultures for nothing. He’s not who they think he is. He can’t be. He’s too old.” Marion wanted to go back and tell them all they made a mistake and to leave the poor woman alone. However, she knew it wouldn’t do any good. Who would believe her. She had no proof and revealing the information that Jerry Wilcox had provided her with would only start a worldwide panic. No she thought, there was nothing she could do to stop this news hungry frenzy that was taking place back there. Feeling awful and sorry, Marion pulled back onto the dirt road and made her way back home. By the time she arrived back at home she was emotionally drained. She scolded herself all the way back home for not taking the time to check out the man’s accusations regarding his neighbor. The least she could have done was drive out and visit long before today. Maybe, just maybe he wouldn’t be dead now. What if she could have prevented his death. “Oh God,” she groaned. “Why didn’t I check into his story? He really must have believed something strange was going on or he wouldn’t have made that long drive into the city, not just once but twice to tell me.” Marion entered the house and pushed the door closed behind her. She lumbered into the livingroom and headed straight for the answering machine. Seeing the red light flashing urgently indicating she received three calls, Marion wasted no time in pressing the button. “Hi Marion, it’s me Allison. I just called to touch base with you. Talk to you later.” “Hello Marion, Jerry here. I need to talk to you urgently. I’ll call back later.” “Hello Marion, it’s me again, Jerry. You’re never going to believe what I found out. I don’t want to discuss it on the phone I have one more thing to check out. Oh, by the way; I’m in Washington D.C.. I want you to me out here the day after tomorrow. I’ll make reservations and pick you up at the airport. Call you later with the details. Bye.”

Marion felt a knot form in her stomach. There really was something devious going on out there just as her gut instinct told her. “The day after tomorrow she mused. I can’t leave until I visit that dead man’s wife. If I don’t make an attempt to find out what it was that her husband was trying to imply through his messages, I won’t be able to lay it to rest. Tomorrow I’ll go out there. Yes, that’s what I’ll do.” Marion ascended the stairs leading up to the upper level of her home. She entered into her bedroom and preset her alarm clock making certain she would not over-sleep the next morning. In order to make the long drive out to County Road she would need to get an early start. Having done that, she headed for the kitchen. Throwing together a ham sandwich and a tossed salad, Marion shoveled the food down in a hurry feeling famished for the first time since her assignment began. She cleared up her mess in the kitchen then busied herself in the livingroom collecting her newspaper articles up off the floor and filing them away in separate file folders. Looking around to see that the condition of her house met with her approval, Marion dragged her exhausted body up the stairs to her bedroom. Diving into her bed, Marion drifted off into a deep sleep in record time.

CHAPTER 8

By 11 AM the following morning Marion was just minutes away from 3313 County Road. She was anxious to get her visit over with so that she could set her mind at ease. Looking ahead she saw the familiar row of houses on either side of the road indicating that she had arrived at her intended destination. Over to her right stood the small white house with the weathered facade. She slowed down as she entered the long narrow laneway leading to the side of the house, and on her approach she caught glimpse of an old woman staring out from the side window overlooking a nearby wheat field. Marion stepped out from the car hoping quietly to herself, that she was really doing the right thing. Perhaps visiting this woman so early after her husband’s death was in bad taste. She stopped and hesitated for a moment before deciding to move ahead with her plan. Marion turned the corner of the house, and as she neared the front door, she was pleasantly surprised to see the door open and the old woman standing at it’s side donning a welcoming smile. “Hello,” said Marion returning the smile. My name is Mari…” “Marion Stevenson, I know,” answered the woman not allowing Marion to complete the introduction. “I’ve watched you on T.V. many times. You’re a good reporter,” explained the woman to Marion. “Yes, that’s who I am,” replied Marion. “How kind of you to say that. I hope you don’t mind me stopping by here so soon after your….well….you know…..” “So soon after my husband’s death. Is that what you were attempting to spit out?” She stepped back from the front door and motioned to Marion to enter. “Yes Mrs…..?” She felt badly for not taking the time to learn her identity. She had rushed away from the scene the day before without picking up that information. “Mrs. Wallace dear. Sara to you if you don’t mind.” The woman suddenly became a trite frazzled, her hands fidgeting in the pockets of her clean wrinklefree apron.

“No I don’t mind,” answered Marion. “Sara is a lovely name.” She wasn’t sure what to say or how to begin. Struggling to find the words Marion began. “Sara, I’ve come to visit you because of a message, well actually two messages I recently received from your husband. It’s about…..” “I know Miss Stevenson, my husband Jack always informed me of his actions. The messages pertained to our strange neighbor. Isn’t that correct?” “Yes, yes they did. I wish I would have acted sooner, before this tragedy occurred. I can’t help but wonder if I could have prevented his death.” Marion became somber as she slowly paced down a nearby hallway leading out from the entry. The walls were densely laden with photos of Sara always in the company of a robust man who Marion surmised was Sara’s late husband Jack. “Don’t fret over this Miss Stevenson. Things just happen. Sometimes we’re not suppose to question fate. Oh I know it’s not easy to accept things like this, I didn’t want to believe it was Jack’s time to leave this earth. He was so full of life but…..” Sara stopped herself. She promised herself she would not dwell on despair. “Miss Stevenson, what would you like to know?” “Well if you knew about the messages your husband left for me then you probably know the circumstances behind them. What prompted him to me?” Marion watched as the old woman inched her way towards the side window opposite to the wheat field. Something was obviously bothering her. “Miss Wallace? I mean Sara? Is everything all right?” Standing up against the wall ing the window, Sara leaned forward so that her forehead was resting up against the cool smooth glass. Staring outside and not moving a muscle, Sara began to vocalize her thoughts pointing out the small gray house next to hers. “It’s our neighbor, the one over there. He moved into the house about a year ago. He was alone and still is as a matter of fact. Not even a dog or cat to keep him company. Anyway, he spends alot of time standing outside in his backyard beyond those trees.” Before she continued, Sara waited for Marion to move up to the window to see the clump of trees off in the distance. When Marion confirmed that she could see them she nodded her head signaling Sara to go on with her explanation.

“Anyway dear, Jack would stand right here at this very window opening it just a little hoping to catch part of what he was saying. You see, this man always appeared to be talking to himself. Out of curiosity Jack went over there once as a friendly neighbor just to see if the man was short a few bricks.” Sara paused a few seconds long enough to shake her head and laugh. “Yah, good old Jack ran back so fast almost wetting his drawers. He ranted nonstop about what he thought he saw.” Marion couldn’t wait for the punchline. She anxiously asked, “well what did he see?” Turning to Marion, Sara’s eyes took on a serious glow. “He kept telling me over and over again, ‘it just can’t be, it just can’t be’. Well it took me 15 minutes to calm him down. I was afraid he’d work himself up into a stroke.” When she saw the questioning look carved into Marion’s face Sara realized she needed to keep moving forward. “So Miss Stevenson, my husband was trying to tell me that the man next door was some kind of ghost from the past.” “What do you mean Sara? Why would Jack even think such a thing?” Marion’s curiosity was beginning to peak. It was that part of her character which prompted her to become a reporter. She always wanted to know more about everything. “Our neighbor introduced himself as Bernard Watkins when Jack ambled over there. It wasn’t just his name that weakened Jack’s knees, but it was the man himself. His appearance. Boy oh boy, my poor Jack. He was as white as the linen sheets on our bed when he came back here.” As she began recalling the events of that day, Sara slowly became absorbed in her memories and without knowing it became silent. “Sara,” said Marion several times, each time her voice becoming slightly louder. When she finally caught the old woman’s attention back she prodded her to continue. “Oh yes, my apologies dear. When you get to be my age you tend to drift off sometimes. Let’s see now. When Jack finally settled down he began ranting about this guy Bernard Watkins. He paced wildly up and down the hallway saying, ‘it can’t be him’, he disappeared 26 years ago in a small town in Arizona.” “What did he mean by that Sara, tell me please.” Marion quickly felt the tingle

of goosebumps running up her spine. She could sense a creepiness fill the air around them. “Marion, I don’t know how open-minded you are. Just it could have been the foolish whim of an aging old man. Bernard Watkins was a college professor in the small town of Terrace where my husband Jack lived for many years and attended that same college. Watkins was Jack’s Chemistry professor. At the time, 26 years ago Watkins was about 45 years old.” “Yes, so? What are you trying to tell me Sara?” asked Marion pushing for more information. She pulled her hair back and away from the nape of her neck. She was beginning to sweat with anticipation. Sara took a deep breath, this time rolling up the end of her apron and bunching it up into a tight ball feeling extremely flustered. “Marion, I haven’t as yet told you the age of our Mr. Watkins next door. According to Jack, and from what I have seen of him from a distance, he can’t be more than 30 or so years old.” She expected Marion’s face to become pale at that detail but to her surprise it remained unchanged. “Well it’s obvious then that this Watkins guy can’t be Jack’s old Chemistry professor. He’d be over 70 years old by now. Maybe he’s a son who looks like his dad.” That sounded perfectly logical to her, what else could it be? “No Marion, Bernard Watkins never married. He kept very much to himself and having fathered any children, well…no one who ever knew the man would suspect that for a moment. Not only that, but Jack had to convince me of this man’s identity by showing me a photograph.” Sara lumbered over to a large bookshelf standing all alone against the far wall of the living room. Fumbling from one book to another she finally recovered an old book which appeared to be a yearbook. It’s pages were dingy yellow and the corners had curled up over the years. The old woman began leafing through the pages until she came across an envelope which had been placed inside the book as a marker. Walking over to Marion she raised the book at eye level and pointed out a photograph of the Terrace College Staff. Above her fingertip was a photo of a man which noted his name and position. ‘Bernard Watkins, Chemistry Professor, 1965’. Marion stared at the photo etching a clear picture of him into her brain. Then she asked, “what happened to him 26 years ago?”

Sara raised her hand to her mouth and cleared her throat. “He just up and disappeared. No one knows what happened to him.” “How do you know that he didn’t decide to leave Terrace and start all over somewhere else? If he was a loner like you say, he probably thought no one would miss him.” Marion continued to stare at the photograph in the old yearbook. “He may not have been a social person but he was a competent one. He would never have left the college without notifying them. Besides, from what Jack has told me, the man left his belongings behind. Everything he owned was still in his house. The authorities searched everywhere, especially the wooded areas around town. They couldn’t find any sign of him. Eventually they wrote him off as having met with foul play.” Sara’s shoulders slumped back. She was becoming very agitated and irked about the entire affair. Marion knew it was time to back off. She didn’t want to upset Sara any further. She learned all there was to learn about Jack’s messages. But now what would she do with the information, what could she do with the information? “Sara, do you suppose Bernard Watkins would mind if I paid him a visit?” “Oh I don’t know dear. Now with Jack gone maybe it’s time to lay this entire puzzle to rest.” She waddled down the hallway and as she entered the kitchen area, she looked over her shoulder and offered Marion a cup of tea. “No thank you Sara. I’d best be going. I’ve kept you long enough. Thank you again for sharing that information with me. Since I’m right here though, I think I’ll pay Watkins a visit. What harm can it do?” She disappeared through the front door leaving Sara emotionally exhausted. Marion drove back down the narrow laneway watching the dry dust billowing up all around her car. The dust was so thick on her windshield she had to sweep it away with the wipers. As she turned to her right onto County Road she was forced to make another right in order to enter Watkin’s laneway. As she drove up to his small gray house she wondered what excuse she would use to justify her unexpected visit. She parked her car in a clearing behind the house which looked as if it had been prepared for vehicle parking. As she left her car she found herself gathering up her nerves. The back door of the house was directly in front of her so she headed for that door. She knocked several times but no one

answered. Walking around the house to the front door she repeated the knocking. Still no one answered. Marion sighed with disappointment for she did not want to make a second trip back. She hoped to satisfy her curiosity right now. Her instincts told her to leave but still her curiosity beckoned her to stay. Carefully and cautiously she crept around the exterior of the house taking quick peeks into the interior through the lower windows. Again she was disappointed on seeing nothing of interest. As she began to walk away from the last window she noticed a small dust-covered window at ground level which led into the basement. Marion couldn’t resist the opportunity. She crouched down as low as her body would allow and placing her face closely up against the glass she was stricken with horror. Her quick reflexes ejected her body straight up and caused her to jump sideways slamming her back up against the paint-faded wall. She mumbled to herself to remain calm and to reassess in her mind what she had just seen, or thought she had seen. She found it nearly impossible to think over the thundering beat of her heart as it throbbed out of control against the walls of her chest. “Okay Marion,” she muttered to herself. “Calm down. You need to take another look through that window. That vivid imagination of yours is getting the best of you.” Moving her hands behind her trembling body she gave herself a light push off the wall. Then facing the window she began bending her knees until she lowered her body close to the ground. Before taking a second look she closed and squeezed her eyes in an effort to release some of the strain. As she moved her eyes closer she reached forward and wiped away years of dust to give her clearer visibility. What she had initially witnessed was still the same. There could be no doubt about it. There was a man sitting slightly inclined in a chair which took on the appearance of a dentist’s chair. His head was tilted back so that the age way from his mouth down to his chest was vertically positioned. Marion strained her vision making certain that she was not hallucinating. She saw what appeared to be a hose of some sort inserted into his mouth and down his throat. How far it descended Marion had no idea. She shuddered at the repulsiveness. Her gaze followed the hose down the front of his lifeless form and up about a foot where it entered through the top of an unknown, sack-like object. She had never seen anything like it before. As she studied the oddities in her sight she surmised that the sack was filled with a liquid. She couldn’t tell if the liquid was being extracted from the sack and ingested into his mouth or visa versa. The hose seemed transparent which made the flowing of liquid clearly evident. Marion touched her throat gently with her hand in a reflex reaction. The

diameter of the hose trailing down his throat was unusually large. She couldn’t help but cringe at the discomfort and pain that the man must be enduring. But why? she thought. What would possess someone to do such a thing? What physical illness would warrant such a remedy? As she stared in disbelief she suddenly became aware of a noise that she had not taken notice of until now. It was a loud and persistent breathing sound. It was as if someone was standing beside her breathing laboriously at a steady pace, inhaling, exhaling, inhaling, exhaling. It was inconceivable to Marion that the sound was originating from the man in the basement. The window was tightly closed making it impossible for such a sound to travel that distance and retain such a loud volume. She focused her attention on the liquid traveling through the hose. As her eyes locked onto the strange sack, she realized it was moving to the same beat as the breathing that continued to filter mysteriously in the dry hot air around her. The walls of the sack seemed soft and pliant as Marion watched mystified as it pulsated in and out. As hard as she tried, she was unable to contrive any logical explanation or even speculate any possibilities. Intuition began poking under her ribs warning her to leave before it was too late. However, she was irresistibly compelled to stay and observe more of this unnatural event. Marion felt a sudden discomfort in her left eye. Dust had blown up against her face and had lodged itself disabling her vision. She quickly lowered her face to look at the ground then proceeded to dislodge the dust particles by blinking them away. As she repositioned her gaze through the window pane she was aghast and frightened at the familiar face staring back at her. The man’s eyes locked onto hers while his hands began pulling out the hose from his throat. She remained in plain sight, frozen and unable to run. In her immediate range of sight she witnessed the man from the yearbook photograph extract the hose from his mouth which indeed had been slid deep down into his chest cavity. All the while his dark eyes remained focused on her presence. At the moment the hose’s end had shown itself, the sack that had just moments before pulsated with life had now incredulously desisted. Bernard Watkins stood up in slow motion never once removing his eyes from Marion. He began to walk towards the small window but as he neared, Marion became overpowered with panic. She ripped her gaze away from the basement using every shred of energy in her trembling body. As she rose to a standing position and turned to run, her foot stepped into a pothole sending her soaring head first onto the dirt-covered ground. She groaned with excruciating pain as she attempted to lift her head. Pushing herself up at the shoulders her heart skipped a beat at the sight of two feet in black sneakers standing over her.

“Can I help you Miss?” asked a low deep voice hovering above her. He waited for her to reply and when no words came from her lips, he crouched down to her level. “You took a nasty fall young lady. That’s what you get when you spy on people.” Looking up at Bernard Watkins, Marion squinted her eyes as the sun’s rays beamed into her face. “I wasn’t spying, I was…uh.…I…” “Yes? Then what would you call it?” inquired Watkins very much interested in what she had to say. “I was looking for someone. I knocked on the doors and when no one answered I thought perhaps that maybe he…you were in the basement and couldn’t hear me knocking. I didn’t realize that….uh….that you had to take care of something, whatever. You ARE Bernard Watkins are you not?” “Who wants to know?” He grabbed Marion’s hand as he rose to stand and assisted her to her feet. “Now, who are you and why are you here?” He folded his arms in front of his chest and waited for her to reply. “I’m Marion Stevenson, a reporter for the ‘Chicago Informer’. I was just visiting people out here in the rural areas of Chicago trying to put together an article on country life. You know how people are. They want to know how everyone else lives.” She swallowed a mouthful of air blushing at having blurted out such a lame excuse. She apologized for any inconvenience she may have caused him then headed to her car. She only managed to move past him a few steps before she stumbled still a bit dizzy from her fall. “Wait a minute there, you can’t drive in that condition. Let me take you inside and fix you up a bit.” Looking at Marion, at her petite and feminine features, Watkins suddenly felt an intense physical attraction engulf his manly being. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced. He couldn’t allow himself to miss this opportunity. He had to have her NOW. He knew future opportunities may never cross his path again. Time was running out. Helping Marion into his home, he escorted her to the livingroom couch. Once he had her seated comfortably he insisted she relax while he brew up some lemon tea. Marion watched his lean yet muscular body through the door leading out of

the livingroom. She inspected the room in it’s entirety and to her relief it appeared very normal. There was nothing unusual to alarm her. When Bernard Watkins returned he was pleased to see Marion still sitting on the couch. He handed her the tea and noticing a scrape on her forehead he offered to clean it up for her. He left the room and returned minutes later with peroxide and a bandage wasting no time in istering first aid. Marion tensed up as she felt his hand touch her head. He worked quickly and carefully noticing immediately the stiffness in her body. Producing a smile and studying her face from her eyes to her chin he knew she was different. She was vital and full of life. Again his eyes locked onto hers and as she returned his gaze she felt her mind become clouded while a pleasant restfulness filled her entire body. Watkins placed his thumbs over her temples and moved his fingers gently over the back of her head. She remained calm and transfixed in place thinking to herself how handsome this man was. His hair was golden blonde and his skin had been permanently tanned from years in the sun. He had soft but distinct lines caressing the edges of his soft blue eyes that melted away her fear. Marion sipped her tea a little at a time and when she finished, she insisted it was time for her to leave. As she walked out of the door she thanked him for the tea and first aid completely forgetting the events that led up to their mutually satisfying departure. She dropped herself into the car feeling unusually tired and anxious to get back home. There was still so much that had to be done before her departure to Washington, DC the following day. Marion had driven half the distance home before wondering why it was so dark. ‘It couldn’t possibly be that late’, she thought. Looking at her watch she abruptly brought the car to a stop on the middle of the deserted road. She shook her watch and held it to her ear. It seemed to be working but how could it be? Her watch told her it was 11:30 PM. That would mean she had spent almost twelve and a half hours visiting Sara and Bernard Watkins. “No way!” scoffed Marion hitting the steering wheel with her hands. “I spent less than an hour with Sara and no more than an hour or two at Watkin’s place. What’s going on? Damn it! It should only be the middle of the afternoon. Did I fall asleep?” Marion continued the drive home with her mind washed away in a daze. She felt strange and at times disorientated By the time she entered her bedroom she was suffering a mild case of depression. But why? She had no idea. Throughout the

night she tossed and turned relentlessly, having to raid the medicine chest of pain relievers to numb unexplainable migraine headaches and cramping inside her stomach. She had immediately ruled out her monthly cycle as the cause for her discomfort which left her confused and distraught at her sudden ailing condition.

CHAPTER 9

Since arriving in Washington D.C., Jerry Wilcox found himself quickly drawn into an intricate web of perplexing intrigue. He began his search for information at the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s Headquarters on South Lexington Street. He sauntered into the building with an air of confidence and self-assurance not allowing his real motives to filter through. Walking down the hallways and sticking his head through the open office doors, Jerry greeted several familiar people with the wave of his hand and introduced himself to those people he had never met before in the service. He finally arrived into a large open office space housing at least a dozen desks all cluttered with paper and file folders. Phones were ringing off the hook and men in white shirts were emerged in their daily business routine. Jerry stopped at the door and began looking around hoping to find some place to begin his one-man investigation. Much to his surprise it was much easier than he had anticipated. From across the room he heard a loud hoarse voice echo between the walls. “Heh Wilcox! What the hell are you doing in Washington?” A short man with an exuberant ring in his voice and a noticeable extruding belly hobbled up to Jerry flailing his arms with excitement. “God, I haven’t seen you since that last convention we had in Chicago. that one? They sent us the strippers instead of the waitresses by mistake.” “Heh there Chevinsky how’s it going?” He glanced down at the man’s stomach immediately adding, “they must be paying you top dollar around here, you’re obviously eating well.” Jerry poked Chevinsky’s large stomach with his finger. “Oh this,” he commented. “This is the result of too many home-cooked meals. I got married eleven months ago. The wife even brings me hot meals for lunch every day.” Chevinsky placed his hands over his stomach and patted his spare tire. He seemed quite content with the arrangement. He raised his right hand and closing his fist, roughly punched Jerry on the top of his arm. “So tell me. What are you doing here?”

Rubbing his sore arm Jerry answered, “I took a little time off for some R&R and decided to stop in here along the way.” Startled by the slamming of a door, Jerry’s attention quickly focused onto an office at the rear of the room. It was a large room filled with several people, some wearing military attire. The office walls were largely made of glass making the movement inside the office clearly visible. “Chevinsky, what’s going on in there? Isn’t that General Bergoff from the Defense Department in there and McDonnell the big cheese from the CIA?” “Yap, that’s right. They’ve been in there all morning. Something’s been going on around here for days now. Normally by now word would have leaked out, but not this time. Whatever it is that’s going down in there they’ve managed to keep it sealed up tighter than a drum. We’re all dying with curiosity.” Chevinsky stood and stared at the office shaking his head. “Heh Chevinsky, do you know anything about the strange deaths that have been popping up all over the place? We haven’t been getting any information back in Chicago.” Somehow he knew what the answer to his question would be. “Nope, not me buddy. It’s pretty weird. We just got the updated tally in this morning. 1058 bodies and still no clues or explanations.” He saw the strain seep from Jerry’s face. Before he could say another word the room fell silent as the office door opened. The V.I.P.’s walked stiffly from the room heading directly for the outer door, their cold hollow expressions leaving a dark under tone behind them. Jerry’s eyes ogled a black leather briefcase that was padlocked for security and chained to the wrist of General Bergoff from the Defense Department. Whatever was in there was red hot, and right now Jerry had no leads of any kind and it was already determined back in Chicago that he had nothing to lose. He turned to Chevinsky and abruptly said goodbye and without waiting for a reply, Jerry sped out from the FBI building keeping his eyes locked onto the General and his mysterious merchandise. He jumped into the red Ford Taurus that he had rented at the Airport and cautiously followed the General’s car. They drove for twenty minutes weaving in and out of traffic until they approached the large Defense Department Building. Jerry was forced to hang back as the General entered the Security Gates. Parked along the curb, Jerry sat for a moment wondering what to do next. In the rearview mirror he caught sight of a large sign advertising the words, ‘VISITOR PARKING”. He quickly drove around the block and entered the parking lot which was in walking distance of the Defense Department. He

walked briskly to the building, and upon entering it, was immediately greeted by Security Personnel. He maintained his self-confidence and after flashing his FBI ID card he was waved through the metal detector check point. He was relieved to see the elevators directly in front of him. As he hurried towards them a loud anxious voice beckoned for him to stop. “Excuse me sir, can I help you?” The voice belonged to a young man dressed in military garb who was seated behind a large reception desk. Jerry turned at the man’s request to stop. “No, really. I don’t need any help.” He showed his ID and politely stated, “I’m here to see General Bergoff, I’ll find him.” “I’m sorry sir, but I’ll have to call up to him and announce your arrival.” He picked up the phone and began pushing the buttons. This was not what Jerry had planned on. Hoping to appear convincing, he glanced down at his watch and looking a bit flustered and pressed for time, Jerry ran his hand through his hair and sneered, “oh God, I’m running late for another appointment. This one with General Bergoff will have to wait.” Then turning to the man behind the desk he apologized for taking up his time and rushed out from the lobby. Now more than ever he was determined to succeed in getting to the General’s office. He was not about to allow a kid half his age to prevent him from taking care of business. There had to be another way; and there it was, the back entrance where the garbage disposal trucks were headed. He grew impatient waiting for the parking lot attendant to make change so he insisted the man keep the change. The moment the gate opened, Jerry’s red Ford Taurus squealed it’s tires as it made a fast sharp turn at the intersection. He came to the street which was in reality a narrow back alley which ran along the north side of the building leading to the rear. The garbage disposal trucks had disappeared from sight so he continued to follow the narrow street until he reached the docks where supplies were delivered and trash was picked up. He parked his car in a small clearing then headed for the door beyond a set of stairs. He grabbed the door knob and attempted to open it but it was locked. He knocked several times but no one answered. The garbage disposal truck sat idle at the edge of the dock so he waited for the driver to return. Ten minutes ed when one of the large dock doors rolled up and a man pushing a wheeled container stopped and looked up at Jerry.

Jerry expected the man to say something so he attempted to avoid any unnecessary confrontation by showing the man his official ID and in a firm voice stated, “I’m here on business, just continue what you’re doing.” The man did as he was told completely disinterested in Jerry’s credentials.. Jerry made his way through the basement of the building until he came across a utility elevator. He knew he would have to avoid the main floor in fear of being spotted by the receptionist again. This time he would use the utility elevator to move to an upper floor where he hoped to locate an office directory with General Bergoff’s office number and floor. The elevator door opened on the third floor and waited as Jerry peered from side to side making certain the coast was clear. Defense Department employees were out and about in the hallways taking care of business and to his relief there was no sign of Security Personnel. He straightened his tie and jacket so that he would blend in with the crowd and as he walked down the hallway he searched the walls for a directory. As he approached the public elevators he was pleasantly surprised when he found what he had been looking for. He scanned the names until he found Bergoff. A smile crossed his face as he read the floor number. ‘Third Floor, Room 223’. Stepping out from the elevator area Jerry was faced with two hallways. A tall slender woman walked up to the elevators and pressed the down button. As she waited for the elevator to arrive she noticed Jerry standing with an air of uncertainty about him. “Excuse me,” she quietly called to Jerry. “Are you having trouble finding your way?” Jerry turned to the woman and smiled. “Yes as a matter of fact I am. Could you please point me in the direction of Room 223?” The woman returned the smile and helpfully pointed her finger down the hallway to his left. “It’s the big office at the very end. You’d better hurry, he’ll be wrapping things up for the day real soon. It’s almost 5 o’clock.” Jerry thanked her for the assistance then watched as she stepped into the elevator. “Oh, not bad. Not bad at all,” he mumbled to himself. Looking at his watch he made haste down the hall. When he arrived he scanned the doors around the office looking for a place to hide until such time the General vacated his office. There was a men’s room and a supply closet. He weighed his options quickly. If he were caught in the supply closet it would be difficult to explain his

reason for being there, so he decided to check out the men’s room. He wouldn’t have to explain his reason for being there, that would be quite obvious. He stood in the hallway ready to slip inside at the first sign of General Bergoff. He watched as the Defense Department’s staff began leaving several at a time. He checked his watch and by 6 o’clock the floor had become deserted and the lights had been dimmed. Finally at 7:40 PM the door to the General’s office opened and Jerry slipped quietly into the men’s room. He waited 10 minutes giving the General enough time to leave the premises. When he was certain the coast was clear, Jerry crept out from the men’s room and cautiously made his way to the General’s office. As he expected, the door was locked. He pulled out a small leather pouch containing small silver tools that were furnished him by the service. He pulled out one then another and manipulated them until he popped the lock. He entered the dark room and immediately closed the door and locked it behind him. He turned on a small desk lamp which shed just enough light so that he could make out the objects around him. Instinctively he attempted to open the desk drawers first but again found them to be locked. He used his tools to open them one by one and after shuffling through the papers and finding nothing of interest, Jerry placed everything back in it’s place then locked the drawers back up. Next, he turned to look at the filing cabinets. Three cabinets stood side by side against the far wall and only one of them was locked with a padlock and iron bar. He knew searching anywhere else would be a waste of time. It was there in that particular filing cabinet where he hoped to quell his curiosity. Manipulating that lock was not as easy as the others. He worked diligently utilizing every tool at his disposal. Just when he thought he was failing at the task, he heard the familiar click indicating that the lock had popped. As he began removing the iron bar he was suddenly distracted by the sound of a key being slid into the office door’s lock. Jerry worked fast at replacing the bar and padlock leaving the lock unnoticeably unlocked then quickly searching out a place to hide. Just as the office door opened, the door to a coat closet closed. He panicked at the thought of having left the desk lamp on and as he listened to the foot steps moving around the office he managed to steal a peek from the closet door. It was just the janitor making his rounds. He reached over the General’s desk to turn the lamp off muttering to himself, “I guess the Big Guy was in a hurry again tonight. He forgot to turn off the light. Oh well…” Jerry waited trying not to move while the janitor cleaned the office. It was

becoming more and more cramped and hot inside the closet making it difficult to breath. As soon as the janitor locked up the office behind him, Jerry bolted out from the closet holding his chest and gasping for air. He hurried back to the filing cabinet and removed the lock and bar. Beginning in the top drawer he fumbled through the files one at a time finding nothing of interest. By the time he opened the bottom drawer he was beginning to think it was nothing but a wild goose chase. Moving the files one at a time and at a much slower pace, Jerry’s fingers latched onto a file folder that unlike the rest was not clearly marked. In black marker it read, ‘Storage 200 block/Madison. Jerry yanked the folder from the cabinet drawer and curiously stared at the file indicator. Opening it slowly he began reading. His heart began pounding so rapidly he could feel it thundering against the walls of his chest. John Dupont - deceased. 40, death unknown. Storage. Peter Jacobs - deceased. 40, death unknown. Storage. Jerry knew what he was looking at, still the shock ran through his veins as he flipped the pages one by one. Tom Erikson - deceased. 40, death unknown. Storage. The list went on and on. At the bottom of each death record in large red print the pages were stamped ‘STORAGE’. “What on earth does that mean?” Jerry stood up and moved to the desk in hopes of finding some blank paper. He was not about to leave the building without this information. This was exactly what Marion Stevenson was looking for. As he reached across the desk he became aware of a sheet of paper falling out from the folder onto the floor. Bending down, Jerry picked it up and glanced at it expecting to find another name, another statistic. However, that was not the case. He sat down in disbelief as he read the small paragraph on the otherwise blank sheet of paper. “Viking II Salvage Ship disappeared from tracking April 28. S.O.S communication received just prior to detachment. We have casualties. Was it the silent enemy who was responsible?” The words stung Jerry’s tongue has they rolled from his lips. He frantically scribbled down the information he was holding then proceeded to return everything back to it’s original resting place. It was time to leave and this information on to Marion. She might want to postpone her trip to Washington a day or two in order to do some investigating on her own. And there was still the file indicator ‘Storage 200 Block/Madison which he himself had to make sense of before he was ready to move ahead. Making his way back down the utility elevator to the basement, Jerry couldn’t wait to remove himself from the building. Without thinking he opened the door leading out onto the loading dock and where his car was parked only to find that he had set off an alarm. Security Personnel were already approaching down the

narrow street in his direction before he could get to his car. Running back into the basement and finding a place to hide was his only hope of escaping this crazy ordeal. He would never be able to out run them in his car. The door to the basement flung open and footsteps scurried in. From the direction of the elevator more footsteps could be heard moving about searching the basement. Jerry had never been so terrified in his life. He had always been the one to search for people on the run, now the tables had turned. They were hunting him down. He could hear them getting closer. He was certain it would all be over soon. He could hear them talking directly above him. “What’s wrong?” he thought to himself. “You know where I am, so come and get me and get it over with.” Just when he thought it was all over, the voices and footsteps began fading away. The last words that he could make out before the doors closed were, “he’s not in here. He must have been outside all this time.” Jerry waited frozen in place. His heart was still beating out of control. If he attempted to leave the building again he would only set off the alarm a second time. He was lucky to have gone undetected this time. If he attempted it again, being captured was a certainty. He would have to remain there until the following morning, after the alarms were shut off. Moving his aching body from side to side Jerry made himself comfortable for the night in a large bin filled with shredded paper. The following morning he was awakened by the sounds of a large vehicle pulling up to the dock. He quickly jumped from the paper bin and straightened his clothes as best he could. He waited anxiously for someone to walk through the basement door indicating that the alarm was disarmed. As the door opened, Jerry rushed through the door almost knocking the truck driver off his feet. He took a deep breath of fresh air and cringed when he saw the missing Ford Taurus. Now it was only a matter of time before they tracked him down. He had to relay the stolen information to Marion first, before they found him. Instead of returning to his hotel room he would have to dig into another less conspicuous out of the way room where he could work from. He apologized to the truck driver for being so rude and managed to steal a ride from him, getting himself away from the Defense Department. A cab driver dropped him off in a small street lined with cheap rundown hotels and rooms for rent as Jerry requested. As he fumbled in his pockets for the money to pay the cab fare, he came across the paper that he had jotted down the

information from the General’s office. As he paid the driver the fare, Jerry looked at the paper then back at the driver and just by chance asked, “does this make any sense to you?” He showed the driver the words, ‘Storage 200 Block/ Madison.” The driver stood in silence while scratching his chin then as if a light came on he flashed Jerry a victorious smile. “That appears to be an address. Madison sits in an old part of town. Most of the buildings are vacant especially around the 200 block area. The buildings used to be warehouses and storage facilities. They’ve been condemned for ten years or more.” The cab driver turned to leave but suddenly stopped to ask, “did you want a ride over there?” “Yah, but not right now. I’ve got to find a room first. Thanks a lot buddy. I really appreciate the help.” Jerry pulled a few more bills from his pocket and handed them to the driver. As he turned and walked away he heard the driver melodically thank him for his extra generosity. Halfway down the street Jerry came across a small filthy motel leaning from it’s foundation. It was getting late and it would probably be the last place anyone would come looking for him. He entered being careful not to step on people who had made themselves at home on the dirty floors. After a long waiting period, Jerry was finally greeted by a small unshaven man wearing a dirty T-shirt and torn polyester pants. He signed Jerry in requesting ‘cash’ only and paid in advance, and for an extra ten bucks he could have the only room in the house with a phone. The room was disgustingly dirty and crawling with bugs but he was in no position to argue. As soon as he closed the door and locked it he picked up the phone and called Marion Stevenson in Chicago. The phone rang six times as usual before being picked up by the answering machine. Jerry listened as Marion’s soft voice apologized for not being available to come to the phone. He listened for the beep then began the message. “Marion, it’s me, Jerry. I don’t have much time. I’ve got some names you wanted.” He quickly but clearly read off the names of the deceased people on his list. Then before hanging up he briefly mentioned the strange message concerning the Viking II Salvage Ship. He thought it was appropriate due to the fact that the crew was suppose to be returning the day after tomorrow and no mention had been made public of any disappearances. As he was about to hang up he blurted out the date April 23 the day the Ship disappeared. “There’s more,” he told her, “but I’ve got to check out one more thing first. Before you do anything tomorrow wait for a courier to show up at your door. I’m sending you more detailed information to

help you get started. I’ve got to go now. Bye.”

CHAPTER 10

Marion rolled over to the edge of the bed squinting her tired and swollen eyes attempting to see the time on the clock. She groaned in agony at the thought of having to get out of bed. It was already 10 AM, much later than she had expected. She had tossed and turned most of the night which left her feeling sluggish and exhausted. As she pushed herself forward to sit up she was overcome with an intense throbbing inside her head. She threw her hands up and over her head and immediately applied pressure with her the tips of her fingers. The throbbing was so fierce it seemed to penetrate beyond her fingers. Her first inclination was to bury herself deep inside the covers of her comfortable bed and take the time to mend her aches and pains but her conscience reminded her that time could be running out for countless people, including herself. Time was of the essence. She reached over to the side table and removed two small white pills from a bottle and picked up the warm glass of water that she had drank from several hours earlier, hoping to numb the pain enough so that she could begin to function. As she began to slide off the edge of the bed in an effort to drag herself to the bathroom, Marion was horrified at the sound of her front door bell buzzing for her attention. She looked down at the disheveled condition of her clothes and her matted hair that hung in disarray above her head. “Oh God, I can’t go to the door looking like this.” She mustered up as much energy as she could from her almost lifeless body then began the task of quickly camouflaging her appearance. She ran swiftly into the bathroom ading her bedroom and without hesitation dunked her head beneath the cold running water. The coldness of the water served to perk up her weary face and eyes, and her wet combed out hair gave the impression she had just stepped out from the shower. She grabbed her long yellow velour robe and wrapped it around her, concealing her wrinkled and sweaty clothes. Racing down the staircase and straight to the front door, Marion yanked the door open only to see a uniformed courier driver stepping up into his van. In his hand was a large white envelope. Marion wasn’t expecting anything but her curiosity forced her to flag the man down before he had a chance to get away. “Excuse me!” she shouted while

stepping outside in her bare feet. The driver did not stop or look back. Again Marion shouted, this time she moved forward several more paces and as she shouted she moved her arms about in an effort to draw his attention. “Excuse me, hello? Over here, hello?” To her pleasant surprise the man responded to her hail. He stepped down from the van still holding onto the envelope. Marion remained standing halfway between her door and the courier van no longer concerned about her appearance. She reached out and retrieved the envelope from the man, signed the receipt beside the ‘X’ then anxiously bolted back into the house. As she began tearing the flap open she caught sight of the sender’s address. The words ‘Jerry Wilcox and Washington D.C.’ caused her pulse to speed up dramatically. Her fingers moved frantically along the edge of the envelope trying to open it without too much damage. Her efforts proved fruitless. By the time she succeeded in opening it, the envelope had been shredded. Marion carefully pulled the papers out and without hesitation began scanning them. There were names and Social Security Numbers scribbled down which had no meaning to her until she had come to the bottom of the list. Two more items of information were included. All were 40 and all were deceased. It was all very clear to her now. This is what she had been searching for all along. She fumbled through the envelope hoping to find a note inside giving her more details about Jerry’s trip to Washington, but to her disappointment there was nothing else included with the list. “Isn’t that strange. Jerry, what are you up to over there?” Marion stood momentarily staring at the names mumbling to herself. Then as if led by some unknown force, she found herself walking out into her livingroom heading straight for the telephone. When she arrived at the small table where the answering machine sat, Marion was not at all surprised to see the message light blinking. She had been away from her home the entire previous day, out at 3313 County Road. The entire experience began seeping through her memory. She shivered at the thought of losing track of most of the day and because of her sickly condition on her arrival back home, she neglected to check her messages. She reached forward and pressed the message retrieval button. Listening carefully to Jerry’s message, Marion could sense fear in his voice. Perhaps he was getting in too deep. She bit her bottom lip and placed the weight of her body onto the other leg. She replayed the message four more times making certain she had not missed anything. Comparing the message with the information she had just received, she noticed that the items on paper included Social Security Numbers and no mention of ‘Storage’, however on the phone message Jerry had mentioned that each document had been stamped in red ‘Storage’. It was apparent that he had no idea

the significance of that or he would have given her a more detailed explanation of it. “Thank you so much Jerry for coming through for me,” she shrieked out with a high-pitched excitement in her voice. She flung the papers up into the air above her head and hollered, “yes! If there’s truth to be found, I’m going to find it.” Marion crouched down to gather up her papers and as she picked up the last sheet she noticed some writing on the back that she had somehow missed. It was a brief mention of Viking II similar to the one on the answering machine. She had not given that part of the message any consideration. Although it was a grave situation, her time had already been committed to this assignment. Besides, when the news of the ill-fated Viking II became public knowledge, there would be plenty of reporters jumping at the opportunity to cover the story and bear life to speculations on possible causes involving it’s disappearance. Marion had become so preoccupied with her assignment that the fatal fate of the Viking II and it’s crew faded quickly from her present thoughts. She shrugged it away with a long sad sigh thinking what an enormous impact it would have on the American people when they discovered the loss. Marion rushed into the kitchen and poured herself a large glass of milk deciding to skip breakfast. Too much time had been wasted already. A quick shower and change was all that she had time for. Her first stop would be City Hall’s Record’s Department. Death certificates would have had to be issued and having the Social Security Numbers of each of the deceased persons, she would be able to have access to more detailed information concerning the people on her list. During the time it took her to shower and change, Marion’s thoughts of how to proceed with her investigation consumed her entirely. There were many names on the list yet they were only a few compared to the actual number of unexplained deaths that had already occurred. In order to increase her chances of finding anything substantial she would have to dig through every shred of information concerning each and every name on her list. It would take her forever on her own. She ran to the telephone and dialed Allison’s home number. The phone rang many times before Marion gave up and laid the receiver back down on it’s base. “Okay Allison my friend. You must be at work.” She went into the den where she had placed a piece of note paper on which she had jotted down Allison’s home number, then after their first meeting with Jerry she added Allison’s work number to the page. Her muscles tensed and her hand began to

shake nervously, afraid that Allison would not be in a position to lend her a hand. If that were the case, the job ahead of her would be lengthy and arduous. The phone rang only once before someone answered. “Hello, The Snake Pit Bar and Grill, can I help you?” Marion did not hesitate, she was desperate. “Yes, may I please speak to Allison Tate?” She held her breath and crossed her fingers for good luck as usual. “One moment please,” replied the voice on the other end of the line. “Hello, Allison here. What can I do for you?” Her voice was soft but full of bounce. “Allison, it’s me, Marion. I’m desperate dear friend. I need your help….NOW.” Marion’s voice pleaded through the phoneline. She was not about to hide her emotions. “What’s going on Marion? Did you find out anything else?” Allison rambled on without taking a breath. She had been agonizing over the entire ordeal ever since the meeting she had sat in on with Marion and Jerry Wilcox. “How’s Jerry doing, was he able to help you?” “Listen Allison, I can’t go into the details with you right now. I have so much to do and I need your help in order to speed things up. Can you meet me at City Hall in 30 minutes?” Allison hesitated for a moment then answered. “I don’t know about that. I’m only halfway through my shift. Things are pretty busy right now.” “Please Allison, if it’s the money you’re worried about, I’ll pay you for your time.” Marion closed her eyes waiting for a positive reply. “Hang on a minute Marion. Let me check on this.” The line went silent. Marion moved to the edge of the couch then plopped herself down anxiously waiting for Allison’s return. Only a few minutes ed until her familiar voice returned to the line.

“Okay Marion, it’s a done deal. I’ll meet you at City Hall in 30 minutes.” She heard Marion’s voice extend her an excited and genuine ‘thanks’ followed by a click indicating the conversation was over. Racing into the back room of the establishment, Allison gathered up her purse and jacket then sped out the front door to her car. Within 30 minutes both ladies converged on the front steps of Chicago’s City Hall. As they entered the building Marion explained in detail the information Jerry had sent to her and what purpose it was going to serve. Marion had split up the lists of names. One list contained the names of the deceased males and the other contained the names of the deceased females. She handed Allison the list of females. Stopping at the main reception desk Marion inquired where the Death Certificate Record’s Department was located. On receiving the directions they scrambled onto an elevator which transported them to the 6th floor where they hurried down the hall to their destination. Their timing was just right. The last two people ahead of them were packing up and beginning to leave. Marion and Allison moved up to the counter where the Department’s employees were already waiting to assist them. Marion handed one of the clerks her list of names and requested whatever information was available concerning these people who had died within the last three months. The clerk explained to her that although the information was available to the public, there was a fee attached for each record obtained. Marion was not opposed to that rule. She agreed wholeheartedly. The clerk began scanning the list as he turned and began to walk away. Marion felt a lump creep up into her throat as she heard the clerks words pierce her ears. “There’s a slight problem here. A lot of these people, actually most of these people are not local.” He began walking back to the counter to face Marion. He stopped and looked at the disappointment on her face. “Yah, so what does that mean exactly? What’s the problem?” She felt a wave of energy suddenly drain from her body. She moved forward and slumped onto the counter. “Well, it’s really not a big problem. The local people we have on file here in the office, however, all the others would have to be pulled up on the computer from the master files in Washington. Because it’s a more lengthy process you’re looking at $15.00 per name rather than the usual $5.00.

Marion’s nerves which had tensed up only seconds ago had now unraveled as she took a deep breath to regain an ounce of patience. “I can’t begin to tell you how important this information is to me. Whatever the charge, it doesn’t matter. I’ll pay it.” Marion watched as the clerk shuffled slowly to the far end of the room. She had the urge to jump over the counter and obtain the files herself. If he kept up his present pace, she would be standing at that same spot until the Department closed up for the day. Taking her cue from her coworker, the second clerk glanced at the list of names Allison handed her. She was about to speak when Allison abruptly interrupted her. “I know, I know. Don’t worry about the money.” Then pointing her finger at Marion she continued. “She’s paying for it.” The clerk looked over at Marion who forced out a smile and an affirmative nod of the head. Without saying another word, the clerk turned and walked away. While the two City clerks searched their files for the information, Marion and Allison moved off to the side putting space between them and several people who had entered the office. Marion updated Allison on the events of the past several days and filled her in on how Jerry was responsible for unearthing the incredible list of names. When she told Allison about her trip out to Sara Wallace’s home which led to her strange visit to Bernard Watkin’s place, Allison was left speechless. Like Marion, she could find no logical explanation to explain the loss of time that occurred that day. By the time the clerks returned to the counter hauling folders filled with paper, both ladies agreed that very few things were making sense lately. “Well ladies, I’m afraid we didn’t have all the information available that you requested.” The male clerk set his folders down on the counter and waited for the other clerk to do the same. Picking up one folder from his pile and one folder from the other clerk’s pile, he opened the folders and pushed them closer to Marion’s side of the counter giving her a better view. “These files contain the death certificates of the deceased people which you requested. We double checked their names with the Social Security Numbers that you supplied us with. The problem that we seem to have is…..” The clerk removed a pair of glasses from his shirt pocket and placed them on his face. Before he continued, he looked at Marion who was already studying the papers.

As he was just about to continue and clarify his findings, Marion slowly closed the top of the folder transfixed and consumed with bewilderment. Allison felt a knot form inside her stomach as she witnessed the color drain from Marion’s face. “What is it Marion?” she asked while placing her hand lightly on her friend’s shoulder. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” Marion remained frozen, absorbed in her thoughts. She did not hear Allison speaking to her until she felt a jab to the rib cage. “What? I’m sorry, did you say something?” Allison waved her hand in front of Marion’s face in jest. “Hello, are you in there. Earth to Marion. Come in.” “Okay, okay, I get the drift,” sneered Marion. “I’m sorry but this is really weird Allison. These people all died within the last three months. That’s when this epidemic began, yet……..” Marion’s words began to trail off as she became lost in her thoughts again. “Marion, what are you getting at? What do the files say?” asked Allison growing more and more impatient. “Speak to me Marion, I want to know.” Marion took a deep breath and straightened her posture. Her shoulders were beginning to ache from leaning over the counter. “Okay, I’m sorry for getting so distracted. According to these records these people died a long time ago.” “What do you mean by a LONG time ago? Months? Years?” Allison focused her eyes on Marion’s face while she waited for an answer. “Years Allison, many many years. These people have been dead for 25 or more years.” Marion began tapping her finger tips on the counter top completely confused. “I don’t get it. I just don’t get it.” The clerk picked up the second folder from his pile and the second folder from the other clerk’s pile. Opening it up so that Marion could see it clearly, he began to point out an observation which would again bring up some unanswered questions. “Again, with these people we double checked them with the matching Social Security Numbers to make certain we had the correct people on your list.

However, these people do not exist in our files as being deceased. They must still be alive. Could someone have given you incorrect names?” Marion paused for a moment to consider the possibility. Looking first at Allison’s puzzled expression then at the two clerks dumbfounded posture, she blurted out with certainty, “no way, these people are dead. One name could have easily been an error but not twenty of them.” Marion gathered up the folders and requested the amount of the charges. She waited for them to tally up the list then immediately on receiving the bill, she paid up in full. Grasping onto Allison’s arm with one hand and holding the folders under her other arm, Marion bolted out from the Record’s Department totally mystified. “Come on Allison, I need you to come back to my place. We have to dig into these files. Something is very wrong here. Where did you park your car?” Allison stopped at the top of the stairs in front of City Hall and pointed to a parking lot to her left. “Over there by that tree.” “Okay, I’m parked in the parking lot on the other side of the building. Why don’t you just meet me at my house.” Marion began descending the steps two at a time. As she reached the bottom she turned and looked over her shoulder. As Allison approached she made a quick suggestion. “Heh Allison, would you mind spending the night at my place? It would make things so much easier if I had someone to air my thoughts to. Besides, two heads are better than one, at least that’s what I’ve been told.” “Yah, no problem. I’m not too crazy about my job anyway. I’ll see you at your place.”

CHAPTER 11

Marion arrived only five minutes ahead of Allison. She headed straight for the kitchen to brew up a fresh pot of coffee. Allison arrived just in time to help Marion prepare a plate of sandwiches which could easily be nibbled on while they dug their heels into the four folders of data they retrieved from the City Record’s Department. Arming themselves with a pad of paper and pencil they worked out a plan of action. Their first step would be to compare the information in the files which they received from Jerry Wilcox with that information they had just received from the City records. They divided their pages into columns comparing physical features first, then their age, cause of death and so forth. It was one way of making certain they had the correct person as well as matching them with their Social Security Numbers. It was late afternoon when they began and by 10 PM they were ready to drop their pencils. Several times during those hours both ladies had paused at various intervals completely baffled and irritated at what they were finding. When they glanced over at each other at those times neither of them knew what to say. It was beyond their comprehension. When the task was completed Allison dropped herself onto the over-stuffed couch while Marion began pacing silently around the room. Every once in a while she would stop and stare out of the large window shaking her head. Allison finally broke the silence. “What’s going on Marion? It doesn’t make any sense. According to both records they appear to be the same people. Yet……….yet…” Before she could find the words to continue, Marion broke in to complete the sentence. “Yet they can’t be the same people. Most of these people died of old age. The others of bleeding ulcers. So how could they have just died at the age of 40 within the last 3 months?” Marion picked up a pillow from the couch and overwhelmed with frustration flung it across the room. “God Allison, I feel so helpless. Are we missing something?” She moved forward so that she was standing directly in front of Allison. Suddenly her mouth dropped opened as she realized something. “Allison, doesn’t that seem a bit odd? That many people in this confined group dying of the same ailment?” She was becoming angry at all the unanswered questions.

Allison ejected herself off the couch and walked to the folder that she had left lying on the floor. Picking it up, she walked over to Marion and added more mystery to the case with another unexplainable fact. “Out of the eighteen women on my list, fifteen of them died from internal bleeding associated with complications arising in childbirth.” “Yah? Let me guess, there’s more.” Marion picked up a hair tie that sat in plain view by the telephone. She was becoming flustered and tense which made the nape of her neck moist and sweaty. Pulling her hair back behind her ears, she expertly tied it back while waiting for Allison to finish her observation. “Yah there’s more. None of the women gave birth.” She paused momentarily before continuing. “What’s just as strange is the fact that none of them were pregnant. The death certificate stated cause of death ‘unknown’.” “Damn it Al, what are we missing here. The descriptions match, their Social Security Numbers match but…..but damn it! They died twice. How the hell can that be?” “I don’t know Marion. I wonder how Jerry is doing in Washington. Maybe he’s onto something. You did say you heard a hint of fear in his voice, and he seemed in a hurry to check out another lead. Maybe we’ll hear from him soon and he can shed some light on this bizarre mess.” Allison attempted to shrug it off for the time being but it was to no avail. Her stomach muscles fluttered nervously. Marion took the folder from Allison and began flipping through the records then through Allison’s notes. There were no answers to be found as usual. She closed the folder then tossed it onto the coffee table. “I need to take a break. My head is about to fall off. Can I interest you in a coffee?” She watched Allison nod her head yes after moving her lips unable to spit the word out. Taking her cue, Marion disappeared through the door on her way to the kitchen. When she returned she was pleased to see Allison sprawled out on the couch watching T.V.. She thought it would be a good distraction for both of them for awhile. As she placed the large tray holding a coffee pot, cups and condiments on the coffee table, Marion’s attention was called upon by Allison whose laughter echoed through the room like the cackling of a chicken. “Look at this Marion, you’ve got to see this. It’s UFO season again.” Allison grabbed the remote control and quickly turned up the volume. She sat up

reaching out her hand to accept the cup of coffee Marion was offering her. Marion picked up her cup and made herself comfortable on her favorite armchair. She sat back watching and listening to a farmer in Paxton Michigan being interviewed, after having reported seeing a large red object flying out of a wooded and marshy area in his back cow pasture. He described the object to be football-shaped, hovering over his field almost stationary as if examining the area around them. At one point it veered instantaneously from sight then returned suddenly out from behind a clump of trees. The Air Force dispatched a consultant on UFO’s to the scene to investigate. His job was to investigate sightings and to find a logical earthly explanation for each occurrence. After interviewing the farmer and several other residents of the area who also claimed to have seen the unidentified object, the Air Force consultant came to the scientific conclusion that the sighting may have been caused by a spontaneously igniting release of methane gas caused by rotting vegetation, sometimes referred to as swamp gas. On hearing the explanation, Allison roared with laughter. “Is this guy for real? With all the swamp land around this country and rotting vegetation wouldn’t certain areas be exploding with this so-called ‘swamp gas’?” “That makes perfect sense to me Al. Maybe you should work for the Air Force. You’d probably have more fans then this guy has.” Marion looked at Allison and winked her eye. They both began to laugh hysterically forgetting for a moment the pressing matter at hand. They settled down as the report on UFO’s continued. Most of the report centered on individual interviews with people who claimed to see UFO occupants, and even a few puzzling abduction cases. “What do you think Marion? Do little green men from outer space exist or are all these people a little crazy?” Allison raised her hands to the sides of her head and stretched out her pointer fingers giving her the appearance of having horns. She grinned devilishly at Marion. “Okay that’s about enough of this nonsense. We have more important matters to worry about. Let’s get to work.” Marion picked up the remote and as her finger began to press the off button a few last words from the T.V. filtered through to her ears. She froze unable to move. “People in Terrace Arizona still the strange disappearance of one of

their ired college professors who mysteriously vanished 26 years ago to this day. Some residents of this small town of Terrace still believe he was abducted by extraterrestrial and…….” “You don’t really believe this nonsense do you Marion?” asked Allison. “Shush!…..let me listen Al.” Marion moved from the armchair and positioned herself closer to the T.V. set. “Bernard Watkins had been a dedicated professor for 17 years and has been missed by many….” The report went on but Marion’s attention faded away. She had drifted away inside of her own thoughts. “Bernard Watkins.” she mumbled to herself. “What did you say Marion?” inquired Allison suddenly curious at Marion’s strange withdrawn behavior. “I’m sorry Al, I was just repeating the guy’s name, ‘Bernard Watkins’. him? I told you about that guy and what happened to me when I went to visit him yesterday. God, Sara’s husband was on to something. Before he died suddenly he tried to tell me something was wrong about that guy.” As she glanced back up at the T.V. set she was overcome with nausea at the sight of Bernard Watkins staring back at her. It was a large picture of him being aired in his memory. A picture that was taken at least 26 years ago. She just saw him yesterday and he hadn’t aged a single year. Allison became worried at Marion’s sudden loss of color. She seemed lethargic as she stood up and began to stare out of the window again. Allison began to tremble with fear of the unknown. She was afraid for Marion. She waited quietly giving her friend some space and time to work out whatever it was that was bothering her. She was relieved when she saw Marion turn from the window with some of her color back. “Softly she asked, “is everything all right Marion?” “Yes Allison. At least for now. We have to make a trip out to County Road tomorrow. You will come with me, won’t you?” She waited as Allison hesitated before giving her answer. Then she added, “if you’re afraid or not sure you want to get into this any deeper, I’ll understand. I’m not going to force you into this.”

Allison mustered up a hollow giggle. “Are you kidding. I wouldn’t miss this for the world. It’s the most excitement I’ve ever had in my boring life. What the heck. Count me in.” She reached out to take Marion’s hand and jokingly shook it. “So what’s the plan boss?” “We need to pay Bernard Watkins a visit tomorrow. He could very well be the key to this entire puzzle. If that’s him Allison…..my God…….” Marion couldn’t find the words to express her thoughts. It was too overwhelming, the thought of what they may discover. Marion began gathering up the folders while Allison picked up the tray and coffee cups. “We’ve got to get some sleep Al. We’ve got to get an early start in the morning. It’s a long drive and the sooner we get out there the sooner we may find some answers.” By the time midnight rolled around both ladies were exhausted and sound asleep. The trees began swaying as a cool unexpected wind drifted through the open windows to the bedrooms. The moon appeared brighter than usual as it’s soft bright light streamed in between the window panes. Marion sighed in her sleep as a low melodious tone engulfed her peaceful sleep. In the guestroom where Allison slept she too found peaceful rest as soft lights caressed her dreams and the cool breeze danced through the strands of her hair.

CHAPTER 12

Morning arrived more quickly than usual or at least that’s how it seemed to both Marion and Allison. Allison was the first to rise so she ambled down to the kitchen hoping to get a head start on the coffee. For some unknown reason she was feeling a bit strange. Her body felt as if she had given it a grueling workout, her muscles ached all over. As she searched the cupboards for the coffee she found herself fighting off visions of a dream that she had been unwillingly drawn into; not as a spectator but a victim. She cringed each time her memory opened up to reveal another portion of the humiliation that she suffered inside of that dream. Waking up and smelling the fresh brewed coffee, Marion thrust herself out from her warm bed anxious to begin the day. Removing her yellow robe from the hook on the door, Marion groaned as a sharp pain stabbed her in the abdomen. It was so excruciating it left her gasping for air. She remained standing by the door motionless until the pain subsided. The pain instantly brought back memories of a dream that she had been enmeshed in throughout the night. When she awoke she was relieved to learn that the disgusting event she had participated in that night was merely a dream. She struggled to bury the images but they continued to force their way back into her head. Marion decided not to dwell on the matter. It would be easier to forget about it once she emerged herself into the day’s investigation. Wrapping the robe around her she raced down the stairs and into the kitchen. Allison was sitting at the table staring at her coffee when Marion bounded in. Forcing herself to speak, Allison grumbled out the words, “good morning.” She looked up at Marion who appeared to have her own share of aches and pains to contend with. Marion returned the ‘good morning’ in the same grumbling manner. She poured her coffee then sat down directly across from Allison. Neither of them found the words to speak until they had both inhaled their first cup of coffee. Allison stood up offering Marion a refill. As she poured the coffee into Marion’s cup she took it upon herself to begin conversation.

“How did you sleep last night?” she asked Marion. “That’s a good question but I’m not sure how to answer it. I thought I slept really well compared to the night before. I didn’t toss and turn and wake up with migraine headaches throughout the night, but I feel awful this morning. I feel like I’ve been physically abused.” Allison returned the coffee pot to it’s resting place on the counter then slowly returned to the table. She sat down folding her hands in front of her, then locking her eyes on Marion’s bewildered face she itted that she too felt the same. Both women sat staring at each other wanting desperately to talk about their dreams but neither of them had the courage to do so. They were too embarrassed. Finishing their coffee and ing on breakfast, Marion and Allison agreed that it was high time they head out to pay Bernard Watkins a visit. They showered and changed then headed out to County Road. Marion found the long drive more pleasant having a enger along to keep her company. They used the time wisely planning out how they would handle the visit and how they would approach Mr. Watkins. They did not want to agitate him and thereby provoke unnecessary trouble. They were both nervous but well prepared as they drove up the lane to his small gray house. Stepping out from Marion’s car they calmly walked to the front door. Allison held the outer door open while Marion rapped her knuckles on the hard wooden door. They stood back and waited. No one answered the door. Moving around to the rear of the house, Allison took the liberty of knocking this time. Again they waited and still no one answered. Marion was becoming angry. “This isn’t fair. We’ve come all this way to see this man and he’s not here. Damn it!” She was not about to walk away from this before making every attempt to find something, anything which might shed some light on his unusual existence. She checked both doors to see if they had been left unlocked but unfortunately that wasn’t the case. In a final effort to gain entry into the house Marion endeavored to pry open each and every window she was able to find access to. To her dismay she found the windows had been glued down firmly with several layers of paint that had been carelessly applied each time the house was repainted over the years. “Come on Marion,” called Allison who was leaning up against the side of the

car. “You’re wasting your time. We’ll have to come back another time.” Marion’s frustration had gotten the best of her. With a loud grumble of defeat she recklessly flung her fist down on the narrow base of the windowsill clipping the edge of the glass window pane. A sharp pain seared through her hand flowing up as far as her elbow. Looking down at her hand she mumbled words of profanity at seeing the patch of blood that was now covering it. She stared at the broken window for a moment then turned and looked at Allison who was not about to comment and perhaps make things worse. Marion on the other hand felt she deserved an ‘I told you so’ lecture. Had she listened to Allison’s suggestion to leave, this would not have happened. How was she going to explain this to Bernard Watkins. If they were to leave now before he returned, he would never know what happened to his window. However SHE would know and the guilt would eat her alive. From across a narrow patch of wheat field the voice of a woman seemed to be calling to them. Her arms were flailing in the air in an effort to gain their attention. Marion waved her hand at the woman who she immediately recognized as Sara Wallace, the woman who lived next door at 3313 County Road. Ambling over to the car, Marion asked Allison to remove a kerchief that she carried inside of the glove compartment of her car. She wrapped it around her injured hand before making the trek over to see Sara Wallace. “Come on Allison, let’s go see Sara. It was her husband that tried to me about our Mr. Watkins here shortly before he died suddenly.” Rather than trudging through the field and filling their shoes with dirt, Marion signaled Allison to hop in the car. They drove down one laneway and up another bringing the car to a stop at the side of the Wallace house. Sara was waiting for them by the front door seemingly very pleased to see them. “Well hello there Miss Stevenson. It’s so nice to see you again. Come on in and me for some tea.” She stepped back from the doorway so that Marion and Allison could enter. “I see you have a friend with you today.” “Oh I’m sorry Mrs. Wallace, this is my good friend Allison Tate,” explained Marion. “We came out here hoping to visit with Bernard Watkins but I’m afraid he’s not home.” On completing her words Marion saw a drastic change in the expression on Sara’s face. “Is anything wrong Sara?”

“I guess you haven’t heard then,” she remarked. “Mr. Watkins died yesterday. They took him away last night as a matter of fact when I was out watering my flowers.” Pulling up the bottom edge of her apron she began to roll it up in a ball. It was a nervous habit of hers. “He died? What happened to him, what did he die of?” asked Marion anxiously. She could feel a lump forming in her throat. A wave of sadness came over her as she recalled how Bernard Watkins had generously and gently attended to her small wounds the day she had been spying on him through the basement window. She had forgotten for a moment the reason she and Allison were out there in the first place. “Marion, hello are you there?” asked Allison as she waved her hand in front of her friend’s face trying to catch her attention. “What? Oh I’m sorry Al, I’m just day-dreaming again.” She noticed Sara holding out a cup of tea for her to take. Grasping it firmly in her hand Marion thanked the old woman. “What happened to Mr. Watkins? He seemed perfectly healthy to me when I saw him two days ago. Was he in some sort of accident?” Marion began pacing the kitchen floor. “Unless…………” Before finishing her thought she stopped and turned to face Sara. “Do you have any idea how old he was? No, I guess you don’t. You had already told me he had to be in his thirties.” She hesitated long enough to take a sip of her tea and take a deep breath. Musing she asked, “you didn’t ever meet Mr. Watkins, right?” “Yes that’s right. He kept pretty much to himself and I never had any reason to visit him.” Sara pulled out a chair from the table and sat down. Moving her shaking fingers through some strands of gray hair that had come loose from the bun that sat neatly pinned to the top of her head, Sara’s posture had taken on a tired form as she muttered in a low tone of voice. “First my Jack now Mr. Watkins. Maybe I’ll be next to go.” Allison walked over to the sad old woman and rested her hand gently on her shoulder. “Don’t fret Mrs. Wallace. You’re going to be just fine, you’ll see.” Sara looked up at Allison and smiled. “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she answered.

Marion moved in closer to the two ladies. “As I was saying Sara, it IS possible that Mr. Watkins could have been close to 40, isn’t it?” “Yes of course he could have been 40 or so. As I said, I never met the man.” Then for the first time since Marion and Allison arrived, Sara took notice of Marion’s hand wrapped up in the kerchief. “My dear girl, what on earth happened to you?” She stood up immediately and began removing the kerchief. When she saw the extent of the wound she pulled Marion down the hall and into her bathroom where she stored her medical supplies. With expertise she cleaned the cuts and removed two small pieces of glass then bandaged the hand. Marion was grateful for her assistance but she couldn’t drop the subject on Bernard Watkins. “Is there anything Sara, anything at all that you can tell me about Watkins, something that you may have missed?” “No I’m sorry,” replied Sara. “I would not even had known about the man’s death if I hadn’t been outside last night. Normally I would have heard sirens coming from emergency vehicles indicating something was amiss in our community, but not last night. Everything was dead quiet. As she heard the words ‘dead quiet’ spring from her lips she couldn’t help but laugh, and to her surprise Allison and Marion picked up on it too. “Why did it seem strange last night Sara?” asked Marion still searching for answers. “Well, I was outside at least an hour before the coroner’s vehicle drove up. There were no police vehicles or paramedics, just the coroner. They removed his body from the house and drove off.” “Who were ‘THEY’ Sara?” asked Marion. “The two men from the coroner’s car. They carried a stretcher into the house and five minutes later they came out with Mr. Watkins on it covered up, or at least I assumed it was Mr. Watkins. They began to drive off but for some reason they had to come back to the house. It appeared they forgot something.” “Why do you think that?” prodded Marion with an obvious sense of urgency. Sara sighed, she was becoming very tired. “The man in the enger seat left the car and went back into the house. When he returned a few minutes later he

was carrying something big in his arms……” Jumping in, Marion continued with persistency. “What was it Sara, please. Did you see what it was?” “No Miss Stevenson, I didn’t. It was covered with a sheet or something like that. He placed it into the car then they drove off. No one has been around since then.” “I don’t get it though. How did anyone know Mr. Watkins had died. Who called the coroner? Isn’t that the police’s job. They have to determine a cause of death and inspect the scene before calling in the coroner.” “Well, all I know is that I was here all day. Very few things get past me around here and if there was anything out of the ordinary going on at the neighbors, I’d know about it. I’m certain of that.” “Yes but someone had to have known he was dead in order to call the coroner.” It was beyond Marion’s comprehension, and it was making her crazy. Allison attempted to cast away a bit of the gloom that was hanging around the room. She perked up and blurted out, “maybe Bernard new he was going to die and he took care of business himself. Maybe HE put in the call to the coroner’s office.” “Oh come on Allison, even if the guy thought he was having a heart-attack, he’d call the paramedics not the coroner. Come on Al,” sneered Marion. “I need to go back over to Watkin’s house and check something out. She gave Allison a light nudge and as she opened the door to leave, she stopped long enough to thank Sara for the tea and information. They drove back up to Watkin’s house and parked around the back. Marion told Allison to wait in the car; what she needed to do would only take a minute. She jumped out from the car and headed for the small basement window. Crouching down as she had done once before, Marion wiped away a new layer of dust that had settled on the glass. She focused her eyes and using her hand to prevent the glare of the sun from hindering her vision, she scanned the room carefully. It was gone. The unusual contraption that she had seen hooked up to Mr. Watkins was gone. She stood back up and whispered to herself, “that’s what they came back for.”

Marion returned to her car where Allison was curled up against her door fast asleep. Marion decided to make the trip back to Chicago in silence allowing Allison to sleep. Her head was beginning to throb with pain from the many frustrating and unexplainable thoughts that were ravaging through her head. Her gut feeling told her that Bernard Watkins was a key to opening up her investigation, but now that he was dead, how was he going to be of any help to her?

CHAPTER 13

Jerry Wilcox stood by the window of his small bug-infested motel room waiting for the sun to set. He had spent the last night watching extra large cockroaches scurry about the floor picking up where the ants left off earlier on. He kept himself tucked away in his room that entire day in fear of being tracked down easily in the light of day. By now the authorities would have discovered that he was the occupant of the rented red Taurus that was found parked in the rear of the Defense Department. He was certain that time was not wasted in feeding his photograph through the legal system. He had grown impatient several times in the course of the day and in hopes of curtailing his curiosity and speeding along time, he picked up the phone and attempted to Marion. Jerry was not at all surprised to hear her answering machine pick up each time. He knew she would promptly go to work using the information he gathered for her to expedite her investigation. When the sun finally set, Jerry called for a cab. He deliberately ed the number of the cab which brought him to that section of town. The driver of the cab seemed to know exactly where block 200/Madison was and offered to take him there the previous evening. Jerry’s gut feeling told him the driver could be trusted and would not run off to the authorities if he learned of his identity. It was necessary for him to locate that cab driver to take him to his destination now that it was dark. He flipped through the old tattered telephone directory and scanned the pages marked ‘TAXI’. When he came to the number listed for the ‘DC Road-Runner Cab Company’, he picked up the phone and dialed. He inquired about the availability of the Cab driver whose cab number was 23. He was put on hold for several minutes until the dispatcher returned confirming that cab 23 would be available within the next 15 minutes. Jerry was pleased with the news and eager to be on his way he confirmed his request for cab 23 and it’s driver. To protect his privacy and conceal is whereabouts he offered them a pickup address 2 blocks down the street. He would be there waiting when the cab arrived. The cab dispatcher was right on when he calculated a 15 minute wait. Cab number 23 pulled up to the corner right on schedule. When the driver saw Jerry

he recognized him immediately. He was delighted to see the generous man again. The cab had no sooner come to a complete stop when Jerry yanked the door open and hopped in. “Hey there stranger, it’s good to see you again.” Jerry smiled at the driver and reached over extending his hand. The driver shook Jerry’s hand and returned the greeting. “Hi there guy. This certainly is a nice surprise. I guess you changed your mind afterall. I bet you want that ride to Madison Street.” “That’s right, and I knew you were the man to get me there.” He removed the paper with the vague address on it and was about to hand it to the driver when the man waved it off. “You can keep that. I’ve got a memory like an encyclopedia. 200 block of Madison, right?” He grinned feeling very pleased with himself for being so sharp. “Yah, you’re right, but didn’t you tell me last night that there were several warehouses and storage facilities in that area?” Jerry was becoming a bit worried thinking he may not be able to find the correct location. The cab driver saw the cloud of anxiety hover over Jerry’s form. He really liked this guy. Not only because he was overly generous with his money, but there was something else about him. He wasn’t sure what it was, but whatever it was it was there. “Don’t worry guy. I don’t know why you’d be interested in a bunch of vacated buildings but I can help. Most of the premises are condemned and rightfully so. There may be a few that are still strong on their foundations, it’s one of those you’re probably looking for. By the way; what are you looking for? Certainly not a functioning business.” The cab driver was dying to know the reason for Jerry wanting to go to Madison Street. “Look, can I trust you? By the way, who the hell are you anyway?” Jerry again reached out and as he began to shake the driver’s hand, introduced himself. “Hi, the name’s Jerry Wilcox. I’m an FBI agent who’s in a lot of hot water right now. I think I’m onto something big and I need your help.” What the hell, he thought to himself. He didn’t have much to lose at this point. “Wow, an FBI agent. You’re kidding me aren’t you?” The driver began to

snicker playing along with Jerry’s fun sense of humor. Taking out his FBI ID badge, Jerry held it up in plain view of the skeptical driver’s sight. “Now do you believe me? I really could use your help.” Reaching out to shake Jerry’s hand, the driver trembled with excitement. “The name’s ‘Dunken’, Morris Dunken. I can’t believe I’m face to face with an FBI agent. You’re damn right I’ll help you. Just say the word, tell me what to do.” Becoming flustered and giddy he had to ask; “is this some undercover operation? I mean you’re not really in trouble are you?” Jerry looked Morris Dunken straight in the eye and nodded his head. “I’m afraid so Dunken. I’m in deep shit and I’m counting on you to help me out. I’m onto something and I’m pretty sure that someone out there would rather not see me succeed. Can I count on you?” “I’m all yours. Just tell me what to do.” “Well for starters Dunken, you can’t breath a word about this to anyone, and don’t mention my name to anyone. If you’ll get this can on wheels moving, I’ll give you an idea of what’s going on.” Dunken pulled the cab out from the curb and sped off down the street. By the time they turned onto Madison, Jerry had briefly explained the situation. The cab driver found himself sweating with fear until such time he learned that the people who were dying were all 40 years old. For the first time in years, Dunken was thrilled to know he had already reached the ripe old age of 50. The street around the 200 block was totally deserted and very dark. There were no lights anywhere around to shed light on their immediate surroundings. They parked the cab down a side alley where their nerves were momentarily frayed when a couple of hungry street cats jumped from an old dumpster. Tin cans went crashing down to the surface of the age-old cracked cement, sending echoes bouncing off the brick walls in the vicinity. Both Jerry and Duncan felt their hearts skip a beat as they froze in their shoes at the unexpected clamor. When the din settled, Jerry motioned to Duncan to follow close behind in order for them not to become separated. They walked slowly to avoid tripping over broken boards and fallen bricks as they peered through broken windows and inside rickety old doors. Jerry stopped occasionally to check his watch making certain daylight would not creep up on them unsuspectingly. Diligently they searched

for signs, any signs at all of human presence. Across the street from where the two men were standing, a large building donning an old faded sign with the words ‘Henninger’s Cold Storage’ sat idly apart from all the others. It’s exterior had crumbled in spots making entry through the front impossible. By the time they had finished moving through the rubble on the east side of the street, Duncan was convinced that Jerry was barking up the wrong tree. No one would be crazy enough to make use of any of these buildings. It would be insane to conduct an operation inside of any of them. Jerry agreed with him, however, it would be unprofessional of him to abandon his theory now. General Bergoff had hidden the file with this address on it behind an iron bar and lock for a reason. It was not meant to be seen by just anyone. Duncan continued to follow Jerry’s lead until they approached the building which once housed ‘Henninger’s Cold Storage’. It’s condition was so horrendous the prospect of checking it out seemed ludicrous, but as Jerry pointed out again, it was necessary if for no other reason but to give him peace of mind. They were not able to get close enough to the structure from the front, so they carefully made their way around to the rear through a side alley. As they came to the back edge of the building both Jerry and Duncan jumped back into the shadows. They were taken by surprise when a vale of light appeared, lighting up the old parking lot which belonged to the old storage facility. “God,” mumbled Duncan to the back of Jerry’s head. “What’s going on over there?” He crouched down to rest his body and to keep himself hidden in the shadows. Jerry quickly ed him close to the ground watching in bewilderment at the scene that was unfolding in front of him. There were people everywhere moving about in an organized fashion between the rear of the building and the open doors of several very large trucks. Jerry’s head began to spin as he tried desperately to make out the faces and forms of the moving bodies. He knew the lights and shadows were playing games with his eyes. He was having difficulty making identifications. He couldn’t tell if the people he was watching were men or women and in some cases children. Some were wearing long robe type garments while others wore pants and shirts. It wasn’t until Duncan jabbed him in the ribs a few times, shaking with fear that he focused his attention in the direction of Duncan’s pointing finger. He was now looking at the cargo being unloaded from inside the trucks.

“Oh my God!” he exclaimed trying to keep his voice low. “What the hell is going on here Duncan?” He turned to Duncan who had slowly begun to stand, totally unaware that his presence would quite easily be detected if he continued his change in position. Jerry quickly grabbed onto Dunken’s shirt and pulled him back down to the ground. “Are you crazy man. If you stand up now you’re going to blow our cover, and by the looks of things, I don’t think I want to get involved with this bunch.” “But….but look at that. Those are dead bodies they’re unloading from those trucks. Not just a couple, dozens of them.” Duncan nervously began running his hands over his head patting down his small patch of hair. “I don’t know what’s going on here guy, but I don’t like it. Those….those things or people whatever they are, I don’t think…..” Duncan had become too nervous to speak. “We have to tell somebody about this. Really….really I think we should do that right now.” Jerry grabbed onto Duncan who began backing up still keeping low to the ground. He was scared and ready to run. “Hold on Duncan, I’m coming too. I can’t do anything by myself, at least not yet. I have to make a plan before going any further, but I’m going to need your help. Can I count on you?” He waited for Duncan to formulate an answer. “Okay Jerry. You’re the FBI guy, if I can’t trust you then what the hell.” Both men cautiously maneuvered themselves backwards until they were far enough out of sight to stand and run for it. On their way back to Jerry’s motel, Jerry wrote down Marion’s phone number and address and a brief message. He handed it to Duncan instructing him to hang onto it just in case. Duncan looked at the information then glanced up questioningly at Jerry. “Just in case what?” he asked Jerry in his most serious tone of voice. “Just in case something happens to me. You need to let her know how to get in touch with you if she turns up here in Washington. I’m hoping I’ll be able to get in touch with her myself and explain what we’ve just uncovered, but just in case Duncan, she’ll need transportation and she’ll need to know the location of that storage facility. I’m going to be counting on you to help her out.” Duncan closed his eyes and squeezed them tight. He had always envied the

macho guys in the spy movies and now he was becoming tangled up in a real life scenario. He was frightened. Jerry requested a number from Duncan where he could be reached later on. He would be needing a ride back later that evening after sunset. Right now it was nearing sunrise and it was imperative for Jerry to get back to his motel room and hide out for the day. He hoped he would be able to catch up on some sleep. As Duncan pulled up the cab at the motel he assured Jerry he would make himself available and at his disposal. He would be calling in sick for the day to catch up on sleep and to be free at any time that he was needed. He folded up the paper Jerry had given him and stashed it safely away inside of his pocket.

* * *

Jerry entered his room surprised to see the motel hallways and lobby clear of bodies. He was expecting to trip over at least one before making it back to his room. Once inside the room he closed and locked the door securely behind him. Running to the phone he quickly picked it up and dialed Marion’s number. The phone rang twice before Marion’s soft and groggy voice answered. “Hello?” she answered still half asleep. “Marion, thank God I finally got you. I’ve found something out here. It’s connected with your investigation, I’m absolutely certain of it. I went to Madison street on a hunch and it’s all there, the bodies. They were unloading them off of……..” All of a sudden the line went dead. “Hello? Jerry, are you still there. Hello Jerry?” Marion became worried as Jerry’s of his discovery was abruptly cut short. She had no idea how to reach him or even how to find him. He didn’t have time to give her any of that information. What on earth was she going to do? Placing the receiver down, she turned to see Allison standing in the doorway of her bedroom, awakened by the phone. Marion informed her of Jerry’s phonecall and how it suddenly ended. She could

see the worry on Allison’s face. It was obvious to Marion that Allison still cared for Jerry Wilcox. Neither of the women were capable of falling back asleep so they headed down to the kitchen. They brewed up some coffee and began speculating and trying to make sense of the events that had been unfolding over the past three days. They would not be able to sit at home and dwell on Jerry’s phonecall, afterall, he may have had trouble with his phone and therefore would call back later.

CHAPTER 14

By 6 AM that morning, Marion and Allison found themselves stretched out on the livingroom couch and armchair. They had consumed an entire pot of coffee and were now dozing on and off suffering from a mild case of sleep deprivation. Allison began to moan and groan as she attempted to pull herself up into a sitting position. Glancing at the clock on the wall she decided to give in to the caffeine that flowed through her blood stream. She fumbled for the remote that had fallen between the couch cushions and on retrieving it, pointed it at the T.V. and flicked it on. She slowly viewed the stations until she came across the National News Station where her eyes caught sight of a photograph of the Viking II Salvage Ship. She turned up the volume after reading the heading ‘WHERE DID THE VICKING II AND IT’S CREW GO?’ flash on the screen. Her body perked up as a wave of concern and disbelief rushed over her. She jerked herself around to look at Marion who had just moments earlier dozed away. “Hey Marion!” she called out urgently. “Marion wake up, you’ve got to see this, hurry!” She was about to go to the armchair and give Marion a shake when she saw her friend open her eyes ever so slightly. “Marion,” she exclaimed, “look at the news, you’re never going to believe this. They’re talking about the Viking II and it’s crew.” Marion sat up with great effort and replied. “I already know about that. I told you about it after Jerry delivered me the message.” “I know about that but there’s more.” Turning up the volume a notch more, Allison moved forward in her seat listening intently. The newscaster’s voice sent shock waves up Marion’s spine. His commentary concerning the salvage ship was not at all what she had expected to hear. “Yes folks, for those of you who were congregating at Nassau’s Space Center to view tomorrow’s launch of the Viking II’s exchange shuttle, well I hate to be the barer of bad news. We here at NEWS FIRST have just been informed that the crew that has just completed their 2 1/2 year term up in our orbit have enthusiastically decided to extend their stay for another year. Therefore, the shuttle containing the new crew which was scheduled to launch tomorrow has been postponed.”

The newscaster gathered his papers containing the special news brief and with a puzzled smile ended the special news report with a whimsical remark. “I guess those kids up there are having too much fun. I don’t blame them. Who’d want to come back to the rat race down here anyway. I don’t think I would.” Marion stood up from her armchair and bolted over to the T.V. She smacked the off button with the palm of her hand a lot harder than she had anticipated feeling a tingling pain on . “I can’t believe what I just heard Allison. That was a lie, a big fat lie. All that bull about the crew wanting to extend their term of duty, no way!” Marion sneered. “We don’t even know if they’re still alive. According to Jerry the ship disappeared 3 months ago. I don’t know any of the details but this trash……..” Marion hesitated for a moment totally dumbfounded at this new turn of events. “Why would they lie? It was our government that fed them this information. What are they trying to hide?” She turned to Allison with the question not expecting a reply. “Marion, I know this is a huge and serious problem but you can’t get yourself wrapped up in it right now. You’re in the middle of this other seriously explosive situation that needs your undivided attention.” “You’re right Al,” replied Marion. She knew she had to concentrate on her immediate investigation before she could allow herself to become absorbed by this misleading bag of lies. “Okay Al, let’s get started. I’ll make breakfast and you get the coffee pot going. We’ve got work to do. Let’s hope we accomplish something before we hear back from Jerry.” Both women scurried into the kitchen with their chores all lined up. They prepared and ate breakfast agreeing not to discuss the task at hand until after breakfast and showers were completed. By 9 AM, both Marion and Allison had arrived back into the livingroom ready to begin the day. Marion jumped in first suggesting to Allison it would be a good idea to check with the police department to see if they had any record of a Bernard Watkins being listed as dead. “I’ll make the call,” insisted Allison. “You’ve done most of the work up until now. I’d like to contribute something to this investigation.” “Okay, there’s the phone. Go to it.” Marion watched as Allison picked up the

phone and dialing the operator, asked to be patched in with the local police department. “Hello,” she said with a tone of genuine concern in her voice. “My name is Morgan, Shelley Morgan. I need some information please. I’ve just arrived in Chicago. I stopped in to visit my cousin, his name is Bernard Watkins. He lives out on County Road. Pardon me? Oh yes that’s right, Bernard Watkins. Anyway, as I was saying, when I drove out there to visit him yesterday I was sadly informed that he had ed away the night before. Could you confirm that information for me please? Yes I can, thank you.” Allison took a deep breath and raising her hand for Marion to see, she crossed her fingers as she was put on hold. A few minutes lapsed when suddenly Allison’s attention reverted back to the police department. “Yes, I’m still here. Are you sure about that? What about the coroner’s office. Would they have the body in their custody without you knowing about it? Wow, that’s really strange. I guess my cousin’s neighbor was misinformed. Thanks very much for your assistance.” Allison placed the receiver back down on it’s base then with a blank expression on her face, gave Marion a negative nod of the head. “What exactly did they tell you Al,” inquired Marion overwhelmed with curiosity. “Well, they don’t have any record of a Bernard Watkins on the dead files. The data would be easily accessible right now since the death occurred so recently, but it came up blank.” “What did they say about the possibility of the coroner having the body without their knowledge?” asked Marion tapping her chin with the tips of her fingers. “Impossible they said. The police would be the first on the scene. As you mentioned yesterday at Sara’s place, the police have to write up a report and determine the cause of death. If they are unable to make that determination, then and only then will the body be handed over to the coroner for further consideration, such as an autopsy. Their dispatch records showed no call was ever dispatched to an address on County Road in the last few days.” Marion’s posture slumped at hearing yet another dead end. She began to walk towards the door leading out from the livingroom when she was jerked to a sudden stop on hearing one last detail coming from Allison’s lips.

“The last thing they suggested was to visit the station tomorrow and file a missing persons report if my ‘cousin’ doesn’t show up.” Allison snickered at the thought. “Yah right.” After having made the comment, Allison was surprised to see Marion’s eyes light up with a new glimmer of hope. “That’s it Allison. You hit it right on.” She could see that she had lost Allison so she began to explain what she now had in mind. “The key word here is ‘missing’, Al. We’ve been looking for information on dead people, and we keep coming up with bizarre information that doesn’t make any sense. What if we look at this entire investigation from a whole new angle? Before he died, Jack Wallace was convinced that his neighbor Bernard Watkins was his old college professor. The guy even went by the same name for Pete sake. Jack Wallace insisted the guy disappeared 26 years ago. If a person goes missing he remains listed as ‘missing’ until such time as the body turns up dead, if it shows up at all.” “Well at least that gives us something else to go on. But how do you explain the death records we obtained from City Hall yesterday? Those people were definitely dead.” “Yes but they died over two decades ago, not within the last three months when their bodies have been turning up dead,” retorted Marion throwing away every ounce of logic that had formed her entire life for almost 40 years. “Allison, what I’m about to suggest is a bit off the wall but I have to say it.” Allison moved slowly over to the bookshelf. As she walked along the front of it, she trailed her fingers across a row of books on her way to the far side of the room. She leaned herself up against the wall and spoke out. “Okay Marion, let’s have it. I’m ready for anything.” Marion smiled as she began to pace about the room. Looking down at the floor while organizing her thoughts she wondered if perhaps she was being foolish for making such preposterous speculations. Clearing her throat she ventured forward leaving all logic behind. “Now, from the time these people died for the first time up until now when they appeared to have died for the second time, there was a twenty to thirty year gap that cannot be ed for. Wherever they had been all that time they had managed to avoid the aging process. When they returned to the land of the living

they simply picked up where they left off, so to speak. They worked, some got married………uhm, but why weren’t there any children? That’s a bit peculiar, don’t you think Al?” Allison found herself bursting at the seems to jump into this conversation. She loved staying up late on a Saturday night to watch the all night Sci-Fi flicks. She had at this point resigned herself to go with Marion’s lead and throw all logic aside. “A time warp, maybe they stumbled onto some small invisible hole that was a door to another dimension. By the time they found their way back, poof! twenty, thirty years had mysteriously ed by, while to them in the other dimension their stay seemed only minutes or hours long.” Marion looked at Allison whose voice had raised a few octaves and her speech had doubled in speed. She had become more enthusiastic about the entire dilemma. “Nice try Al, but all of these people were pronounced dead before they disappeared. Now it’s my turn to take a shot in the dark. What if the government was doing some kind of top secret experiments and they were using people as guinea pigs. You know that wouldn’t be so unusual. Back in the 40’s and even in the 60’s they used human volunteers to perform radiation experiments promising them every precaution would be taken to ensure their safety. When they began dying off in the early 80’s from side-effects their families sued the government when the files found their way to the surface and became public.” Allison thought about it for a moment before answering. “Do you really believe that so many people would actually be crazy enough to volunteer their lives for some lame brain experiment? I would think that the public would have learned a lesson by now.” “Perhaps they didn’t volunteer Al. Maybe the government agency performing the experiments made the choices unbeknownst to the poor suckers. That could explain why the dead bodies are disappearing and we can’t seem to track them down. They could have been withholding the names of the deceased people so that investigations couldn’t be conducted.” Allison quickly stepped into the conversation. “That would make perfect sense Marion. The death’s have all been labeled ‘cause unknown’ because they don’t

want anyone to know what really killed them. Heaven forbid the public should find out that a government experiment went sour killing thousands of innocent people. My God Marion, what do you think. Could we be on to something?” “I don’t know, but one thing I do know is that we need to move carefully before accusing the government of a major cover-up. Let’s start by making a list of names and places where these people on our list were found dead. We won’t be able to visit each place, but we’ll try the places closest to Chicago. We’ll split up so that we can cover more ground. If we can’t get the information we’re looking for from city offices, then we’ll try their library records. If there was anything suspicious about any of the deaths it might be found in the newspaper section. We have the original dates of death so we should be able to find the correct news clippings in the microfilm section.” They spent only an hour preparing their lists and confirming their plan of action before heading out. Marion wasn’t planning on flying clear across the country on this possible wild goose chase, but she felt she owed it to Jack Wallace to fly out to Terrace Arizona to personally check into Bernard Watkins’ mysterious disappearance.

CHAPTER 15

At Chicago’s O’Hare Airport Marion and Allison were preparing to wish each other good luck. They were able to book themselves on business shuttles to Melville, Wisconsin and Jefferson, Missouri, each one leaving within minutes of the other. Allison was headed for Jefferson to dig up information on three men who had died within five years of each other back in the early 60’s, while Marion headed for Melville to check into two deaths which occurred in the mid 60’s. Her cases involved one male and one female. She hoped to find what she was looking for early enough that same day so that she would be able to catch a flight out to Terrace arriving that evening. Both women equipped themselves with cell phones in order to stay in touch. Both flights arrived at their destinations on schedule and both women began the trek by flagging down taxi cabs to take them to the city’s Record’s Department. Their quest for information ended up being much simpler than they had expected due to the fact both cities were actually small towns with small populations. The Record’s Departments were well organized and not overflowing with files. On obtaining the death records neither of the women were surprised to find they were duplicates of the records they had already obtained in Chicago. So, following their previously made plans, Marion and Allison headed out to the city’s main library. There they requested assistance in finding the proper microfilms holding the town’s local newspaper clippings for the dates taken from the death records. One of the librarians set Allison up in a quiet corner in the rear of the library showing her how to operate the microfilm viewer. Moving up to the edge of her seat, Allison moved her eyes close to the screen as she maneuvered the pages of the paper up and down and side to side, being extra careful not to miss a single news heading. By the time she moved to the third page of the second newspaper, the words in front of her struck a nerve. ‘UFO Abduction or Insanity cause of death of local resident’. Allison’s heart began to speed up as she began to read the article. It described the man, Tom Dunn as being a hard-working neighbor who attended church regularly. He was liked by everyone in town but on several occasions he came forward insisting on being abducted by aliens. He described

how several times he had been taken into a space craft and against his will had bizarre medical examinations performed on him. Each time one of his abductions occurred he became unexplainably ill. Two years after his first abduction was brought to the attention of the local authorities, Tom Dunn died. He was diagnosed as having died of a bleeding ulcer. The case was closed and never mentioned again. Allison removed the microfilm and replaced it with a second one dated approximately 4 1/2 years later. Searching the paper she moved the pages one page at a time. By the time she had scanned three different papers her eyes had become tired and blurred. She turned the viewer off then sat comfortably back in her chair. She closed her eyes to clear them and unknowingly fell asleep. Fifteen minutes before the doors of the library were scheduled to close a librarian making her rounds found Allison catnapping in her corner. She tapped her gently on the shoulder until she saw Allison open her eyes then informed her that she had only fifteen minutes to go before she would have to leave. Allison began to panic. She HAD to finish. Marion was counting on her. She quickly inserted the last microfilm into the viewer and diligently began the search. She sighed with relief as she moved to the next page and spotted the name in capital letters. ‘FRANK HARRIS DEAD AT 34, Killed By Alien or Ulcer?’ As Allison read the article it was obvious to her that the newspaper was focusing it’s attention on UFO’s and the possibility of their existence, and their involvement surrounding strange occurrences around the Jefferson area over the years. She couldn’t help but wonder if they really believed their theories or if they used them to increase the sales of their local paper. Frank Harris had not come public with stories of being abducted in fear of being ridiculed itted several close friends after his death. He had mentioned to them on a few occasions how he had been taken by strange creatures and placed inside a glass chamber of some sort, where he had been subjected to mind-scanning experiments which caused him excruciating pain. He like Tom Dunn complained that he became ill after having been in with the aliens. Mr. Harris’s friends were laughed upon for believing his stories and the entire ordeal again was laid to rest. “Wow,” grumbled Allison amazed at how UFO’s seemed to be a large question mark in both of her cases. Startled by an unexpected voice behind her, Allison jumped and turned.

“Oh I’m sorry for startling you. I’ve come to tell you it’s time to pack up.” Smiling at the librarian, Allison acknowledged her request. She turned off the viewer as the librarian walked away but an idea flashed in her thoughts. She glanced down the aisle making sure the librarian was out of sight then turning the viewer back on, Allison began scanning the rest of the article hoping to find a name or two. She was pleasantly surprised when she read on to find the names of three town residents who ed Frank Harris’s accusations. She fumbled to pick up her note pad and with shaking hands jotted down the names before closing down the microfilm viewer. As the doors began to close, Allison slipped out pleased with her progress. Allison proceeded down the sidewalk leading down the street to the center of town. She stopped at a phone booth and began fumbling through the pages of the telephone directory that hung firmly from a chain. One by one she searched out the names on her list. One was not listed so she jotted down the two that were available. She called the first name on the list. Betty Horton was the name in the paper. When she reached the party at the given number she was informed that Betty Horton had since married and was now Betty Gratton. She had recently moved out to the Blackburn house on Cherry Street. Allison scribbled down the directions and before saying good bye politely asked if they knew where she could find Allan Hornby. To her dismay Hornby had died several years ago at the age of 82. On receiving that information, Allison realized that Betty Gratton would also be extremely old and very fragile. It was very likely that at her age she may have difficulty ing any of the circumstances involving Frank Harris’s death. It was a chance she had to take. Taking a good look at the directions on her note paper, Allison left the phone booth then crossed the street. She followed the directions which led her three blocks down Main Street, then a right turn onto Hooper Street sent her another five blocks to Pike Street. At Pike she turned left onto Cherry Street and two houses to the left was the house where Betty Gratton now lived. As she strolled up the walkway to the front door, Allison took a deep breath exhilarated by the fresh sweet fragrance in the air around her from the row of wild flowers growing on both sides of the path. As she approached the door she felt her nerves tense up afraid that the poor old woman may send her away unwilling to discuss that unpleasant time in her life. Hoping for the best, Allison reached forward and knocked on the door then stepped back a pace and waited. As she stepped forward to knock again the door opened slowly creaking on it’s rusty hinges.

“Yes, can I help you?” asked a small soft voice coming from a short plump woman. She was dressed in a navy blue dress splashed with a bright floral design and wearing her silver hair tucked inside a hair net, the age old lines that had been etched into her soft face became more prominent as she offered Allison a friendly smile. “Are you Betty Gratton formerly Betty Horton?” asked Allison in a tone as unthreatening as possible. “Yes, that’s me. What is it that you want?” Betty Gratton asked sounding a bit confused. She very seldom received visitors, especially strangers. “My name is Allison Tate. I’m from Chicago. I’m here in the hope of helping a dear friend of mine. Do you suppose I could come in and talk to you?” Allison smiled and assured the woman she would not stay long and would leave immediately if she was intruding on the woman’s privacy. Without asking first, Betty Gratton welcomed Allison into her home rather pleased to have company and someone to chat with. They moved into the small kitchen where Allison was offered tea and biscuits and a place to sit at the kitchen table by the window. Betty placed the items on the table then sat herself down next to her guest. “Now Allison, tell me why you’ve come here. It must be important, you’ve come a long way from Chicago.” The old woman was very pleasant and appeared very willing to talk to Allison. “I’m not certain how to begin Mrs. Gratton..…I..” “Before you go any further, please call me Betty. I’m too old for that formal stuffiness.” She giggled like a child causing Allison to laugh right along. “Thank you Betty. As I was saying earlier, I’m trying to help out a friend of mine. She’s a reporter in Chicago and very much respected for the honest reporting that she does. Anyway, she’s investigating some deaths that have occurred recently that may be connected with several deaths that occurred here in Jefferson many years ago. The one in particular that I’m interested in and the reason I’m here visiting you is the death of Frank Harris. Do you Mr. Harris Betty?”

Betty sat motionless for several minutes as she searched her memory for information. Allison waited patiently not wanting to make her feel pressured. She listened as Betty muttered to herself then finally drew her attention back to Allison. “Let’s see, Frank Harris was a good friend of mine a long time ago. He was a good handyman and helped me out with chores around the house, you know, with things that needed fixing. Yah, he was a good man, responsible and dependable, honest too. I didn’t have any money to pay him so I’d bake him apple pies to say thank you. That was his favorite.” “Betty do you the circumstances surrounding his death? I read the newspaper article at the library today, that’s how I came up with your name. It mentioned UFO’s and how they may have been involved with his death.” “Oh hog wash. Those newspaper people didn’t believe for one minute that UFO’s were involved. They used that theory to add excitement to their paper and increase sales.” Betty became sullen suddenly. Whispering she said, “poor Frank, they used his death for profit and laughed at him on the way to the bank. Most of the people in this town were very small minded back then. They refused to acknowledge the possibility that UFO’s existed. But there were a few of us who knew better. Just like Frank.” Betty began tapping her foot on the floor becoming frustrated as the memories of that time welled up to the surface. “What did you mean when you said some of you knew better,” asked Allison. “We believed Frank when he said he was taken by aliens. We who were close to him saw the change in him. Each time that bright light appeared to race across the sky, the very next morning Frank would be seen stumbling through town completely disorientated and not feeling quite himself. Everyone laughed it off saying he was hallucinating or he had a few too many drinks.” Allison lifted up a cup of tea and offered it to the poor flustered woman. “Here Betty take a sip of your tea before it gets cold.” When Betty placed the cup back on the table, Allison continued. “You mentioned a bright light in the sky. What was it? Do you know?” “We knew. Frank, Maggie, Allan and I knew. It was them, the ones who took poor Frank up into the sky and did unspeakable things to him.” Betty nodded her head from side to side engulfed in pain and sadness.

“Did you actually see a UFO Betty or just a bright light?” Allison was becoming helplessly embroiled in Betty’s s of that fantastic experience. “Oh yes,” muttered Betty, “several times in those five years. They got Tom Dunn too, just like my Frank. Maggie and I were out in the field behind Frank’s house looking up at the stars when this enormous machine moved over us. It didn’t stop. It just kept on going but very very slow like. I looking straight up at it when it was right above us. It was dark except for a large circle of tiny green and yellow lights flashing on it’s belly. It had come so close we reached up, Maggie and me, thinking we could touch it. We were terrified but we weren’t able to move. Something prevented our feet from moving. Anyway, that huge dark object moved right above Frank’s house and just hovered there until a large tunnel of light burst out from it’s belly and flowed down into the roof of Frank’s house. The light was so bright our eyes hurt. We had to cover them with our hands. When we removed our hands, it was gone. In the distance we could see a streak of light disappear into the darkness and at that point our feet were free to move again. We ran to Frank’s house but he was gone. It wasn’t until the next morning when we’d find him wandering down Main Street totally dazed.” “Betty I know this is hard for you but I have just one more question. Do you think that Frank really died from a bleeding ulcer?” Allison bit down on her bottom lip in anticipation of the answer. “Yes it’s possible. He was examined by the doctor who knows his job. I just don’t believe that it was his life style that caused the ulcer in the first place. He didn’t drink like everyone assumed. He wasn’t crazy or anything like that. As a matter of fact he didn’t mention the aliens to anyone just to avoid being labeled crazy especially after all the ridicule Tom Dunn suffered after going public with his abduction stories. Instead, he had to live with false accusations of being a lush. The poor poor man. All in all I truly believe that the bleeding ulcer was brought on by the brutal physical examinations they put him through time and time again.” Allison’s shoulders were aching with sharp twinges of pain from having been carelessly slumped forward throughout the entire conversation. Sitting up in her chair and straightening her posture she instantly felt the pains subside. She placed her hand on Betty’s which sat folded on her lap. She hoped it would help to comfort the old woman.

“You’ve been a big help Betty. If it helps any, I believe you. I believe Frank was telling the truth.” Looking at her watch, Allison was surprised to see how much time had gone by. Standing up beside the table facing Betty she extended her a warm thank you and apologized for having opened up old wounds. Betty walked with Allison to the front door and watched as the stranger made her way down the street picking up her pace in her haste to her friend the reporter. As she closed her front door, Betty Gratton hoped that her information would help them find what they were searching for.

* * *

Back in Melville, Marion followed the same path. She researched her two cases going back to old newspaper articles stored in microfilm. Her findings on the deceased male was a carbon copy of the case involving Frank Harris and Tom Dunn. He claimed to have been abducted on three occasions over a two year period, and like the others was forced to take part in physical and mental experiments and examinations. Unlike Jefferson, the town of Melville ed the abduction claims due to the fact that most of the residents of Melville had been witness to many strange sightings of unidentified flying objects. They appeared out of nowhere as big bright lights with maneuvering capabilities that left the onlookers in awe. The man who died from a bleeding ulcer could not provide any physical proof of his abduction until his death. Then rumors surfaced around town hinting at the idea that it had to be the result of the abuse inflicted on the poor guy while a prisoner inside the spacecraft. Unfortunately, without any evidence to that theory, the death records simply stated the cause of death as being a ‘bleeding ulcer’. The woman on her list had also claimed to have fallen victim to aliens. She was not married but she was sexually involved with a boyfriend. The relationship broke up when she announced to her mate that she was pregnant but it wasn’t his child. She attempted to explain to him how she had been abducted on the way to work the previous month while driving in her car. A bright light flew towards her car with great speed leaving her momentarily blinded. Before she realized it, the car had come to a stop and she was being drawn out of the car by an unknown force. After walking into the bright light she found herself strapped down to a table in a large room and

looking around she could see five or six other men and women lying on tables. In the hopes of convincing her boyfriend that she did not sleep around, she described in detail what had happened to her. She went on in detail how tall thin beings with large heads and large black eyes stood by the tables performing medical techniques on their victims. When it was her turn, the creature approached her and telepathically spoke to her telling her not to worry. As she laid helplessly strapped to the table she became aware of a long thin needle coming down towards her naval. It was then that she first realized that she was completely naked. Someone had undressed her. As the needle touched her skin she closed her eyes afraid of the pain. However, to her surprise the pain had somehow been numbed. Something was being inserted through her naval and as it was happening a voice insistently told her again not to worry. The procedure only lasted ten or fifteen minutes but when it was completed she was overcome with cramping and nausea. She must have blacked out for when she came to, she found herself sitting in her car as if nothing had happened. Marion sat listening to the incredible story which was being told to her by the woman’s boyfriend who was now a 66 year old retired carpenter. Back then he wanted to believe his girlfriend’s story, but back then, it was it was inconceivable that such a thing could happen. He paused for a moment to gulp down a glass of water. Then, he said she came back a month later to tell him she had been abducted again. This time they inserted a long metal utensil of some kind into her uterus and probed around inside of her apparently looking for something. She felt a pulling sensation inside of her abdomen and after a few minutes they told her they were finished. They withdrew something small from between her legs and placed it inside of a glass container filled with water. Then she was returned home. A week later she began cramping and bleeding and when the doctors checked her out at the hospital she was no longer pregnant. They didn’t have time to do anything for her condition. She died within an hour. The doctors assumed that she had miscarried at home and was too frightened to tell anyone or to obtain medical assistance. Marion gathered up her notes and thanked the man for his help then headed straight for the airport. The tables were beginning to turn. UFO involvement was the last thing she would have suspected. She had one more stop to make, Terrace Arizona.

CHAPTER 16

Allison called the airport to check out when the next flight out to Chicago would be. The last business express flight departed almost two hours earlier. In order to catch a connecting flight out she would have to be at the airport and ready to board in thirty-five minutes. She booked herself on the flight using her credit card, then slamming down the receiver of the pay phone, Allison rang up the local cab company and ordered herself a cab. She walked across the street and waited impatiently at the corner for the cab to arrive. When it appeared, the cab driver stepped out from his cab and walked around the front of the vehicle stopping short only a few paces from where Allison was standing. Allison immediately felt a wave of familiarity come over her. She was certain that she had seen this man before, but where? His eyes locked onto hers as if he were analyzing her thoughts. She tried to look away but found that she no longer had control of her muscles. His eyes remained transfixed on hers and without blinking, the stare became more intense. Allison was frightened, she tried to speak but her lips would not move. She could here her voice inside of her head screaming for help as clouded visions flashed inside of her thoughts burying her own. The man’s eyes became dark and hollow and with a calmness about him, he assured her she had nothing to worry about. The man moved forward raising his hand towards her. Allison watched helplessly as her right hand moved slowly towards his and felt his touch as his large hand grasped onto hers. She did not want to go with the man, she insistently begged him to release her but the words would not penetrate her quivering lips. The cab driver led her to the door of the cab and eased her body into the back seat. Again Allison could here the man tell her to remain calm, there was nothing to worry about. She forced her burning eyes onto the man’s face desperately searching for a clue to his familiar identity. He spoke to her repeatedly yet his mouth did not move. Trying relentlessly to clear the fog from her mind she was beginning to realize that his words were being transmitted telepathically. Allison’s pulse began to race, she was being taken prisoner by this man, but

why? And who was he? As he closed the cab door she felt herself slump against the rear seat. She tried over and over again to move but it was to no avail. She was paralyzed. All that she could do was to look straight ahead through the front window as the man drove away from town heading for a wooded area nearby. When the cab came to a stop the driver casually stepped from the vehicle and moved around to her door where he wasted no time in carrying out a task that had obviously been preplanned. Staring into her eyes again, the man manipulated her thoughts, ordering her to remove herself from the car. There was nothing Allison could do. She felt her body leave the cab and follow the man into the woods. As they arrived into a small clearing, her captor straightened his posture and raised his head to look at the sky above him, elevated his arms forward and stood silently amidst the quiescence of the late summer night. A sudden burst of light from above thrust down upon them blinding Allison, forcing her eyes to close. Her loss of mobility prevented her from shielding her face. As she stood in the clearing, the man with the familiar face walked up to where she was standing and waited. From above the tree tops a bright tunnel of light poured down encircling the two stationary bodies. Allison opened her eyes just in time to feel the air around her push up against her body and tighten around her. Only seconds transpired until she felt her body float up within the tunnel of light until it brought her inside a vast room filled with lights and unfamiliar machinery. A tall thin being entered the room. Still unable to speak or move Allison could only dwell inside of her own thoughts. She studied the being with enormous detail. His head seemed much too large for his body, and his eyes were black and extremely small. His nose appeared almost nonexistent sitting close to his face between high cheekbones. What seemed to be his mouth was much like a thin slit below his nose without any lips and his chin was sharply pointed. Allison’s examination of the strange being became muddled with interference when he began speaking to her through her thoughts. She tried to resist him, to prevent him from looking into her mind but it proved fruitless. She heard his words inside of her mind instructing her to follow him, and as hard as she tried to regain control of her will, she failed. Her body began moving forward heading in his direction. As she approached his position, the being nodded his head at her captor giving him the signal to them. Together the three of them disappeared through the large steel doors.

* * *

Marion’s flight from Melville to Terrace was long and uneventful. She attempted to catch a nap along the way but thoughts about her discoveries haunted her. She was unable to call Allison before leaving Melville as her flight to Terrace was nearing departure. She raced to the airport and made the flight in the nick of time. Thanks to the time difference between the two cities, when Marion arrived she was pleased to find she still had time to accomplish some business. Before heading out to the police station to check on old missing persons’ files, she decided it would be best to find a hotel room for the night. There were no more flights out to Chicago until the following morning. Walking down the main street of town she came across a small greasy-spoon restaurant where the aroma of burgers and fries escaped through the door and lingered in the air beyond the sidewalk. Marion discovered that she had not eaten anything since before lunch and was now starving. She detoured into the burger t where she ordered a double cheese burger and a large order of fries which she smothered with ketchup, then washed it all down with an extra large strawberry milkshake. As she stopped at the cashier’s counter she ed to ask for directions to a nearby motel. Jotting the information on a piece of note paper, Marion headed out the door. She arrived at the Sleep Ease Motel ten minutes later and checked in. Once settled, she dashed out the door on her way to the police station. As she walked inside the small brown brick building, Marion stopped and opened her purse. Removing her phone she quickly pressed the numbers belonging to Allison’s phone. She waited as it rang several times until the operator announced, ‘I’m sorry but the party you are trying to reach is unavailable to take your call, please try again’. Marion replaced the phone inside her purse then removed her Reporter ID just in case it would help to speed things up. Leaving the small front foyer of the building through the door leading into the main office, Marion was pleasantly surprised when she looked around the deserted room. There were only two police employees on duty at that time. One was chit-chatting on the phone concerning personal matters while the other police officer sat with his feet up on the desk reading a newspaper. Marion covered her mouth and coughed to capture their attention.. The man on the phone turned to face the other pointing his finger at the waiting visitor. Placing

the newspaper down on his well-organized desk, the officer stood up and walked to the counter where Marion was standing. “Yah, what can I do for you missy?” He forced back a yawn then slumped forward with his elbows resting on the counter. “Hello, my name is Marion Stevenson. I’m a reporter from Chicago. I need some information for an assignment that I’m covering, It’s……” Marion was unable to finish her sentence before the officer broke in. “A reporter Eh? Well well, what would a big time reporter from Chicago want from us? There’s nothing worth reporting here in Terrace. We’re a very small quiet community.” The officer pushed himself up from the counter and scratched his head. “Actually the case involves a man, actually a professor from your college here. I guess I should say ‘WAS’ a professor at your college. He apparently disappeared approximately 26 years ago. I was wondering if you still had a file on him. His name is Bernard Watkins.” The officer rubbed his chin with his fingers and paused to think. “Bernard Watkins you say. That was a long time ago. I would have been a young boy back then. Hey Harold!” he shouted to the man on the telephone. “Does the name Bernard Watkins ring a bell with you?” The second officer spoke into the phone then placed the receiver down. Standing up, he moved towards the counter and began to think about it. “Yah, there’s something about that name. Let’s see now, Bernard Watkins.” He walked around the room until he neared a small television set nestled in the corner of the room. He looked at it for a moment before snapping his fingers and turning to the others in the room. “I got it now. That’s the guy who disappeared. That college professor, Sam? The one they mentioned on the T.V. broadcast a couple of days ago. Back then everyone in this town had this crazy notion that Mr. Watkins was abducted by a flying saucer. that Sam?” Sam smiled as he ed the television broadcast. “Oh yah, now I . Sorry missy, but there’s not much more we know about the incident.” “Well what about a missing person’s file? Would you have one on him after all these years?” Marion knew she was looking for a needle in a hay stack.

“We wouldn’t have records that old sitting here. That case would have been closed a long time ago. The City’s Record’s Department would have the dead file now. I can’t see it doing you any good, but it’s your time.” Looking at his watch Sam nodded his head. “I’m afraid it won’t do you any good now Miss Stevenson. They’re about ready to close up.” Marion asked for directions to the City office and as he gave her quick directions, she fled from the police station. She raced down the street and up the steps of the small City office. “I’m sorry, but we’re getting ready to close. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.” The words echoed between the deserted walls of the office. Everyone had left for the day except one clerk who was in the process of locking up.” “Oh please,” pleaded Marion. “Please help me before you leave. I’ve got to get back to Chicago tomorrow.” The clerk refrained from locking up the last file cabinet. She hesitated for a moment then gave into courtesy. “What do you need?” Marion asked for the file on Bernard Watkins. Whatever she could dig up, Marion would be grateful to have. She was asked to take a seat and wait. Twenty minutes ed and the clerk returned empty handed. She was not able to find any record of Bernard Watkins ever existing. She like most of the others in town either ed him as their professor or heard of his possible demise from the recent T.V. broadcast on UFO’s. “I don’t understand it,” she remarked in a state of amazement. “The file had to have been borrowed and not returned. How could we have missed g it out? Oh well, to err is human.” Marion sighed and muttered, “the poor man, I wonder what happened to him.” She turned to the clerk and asked, “is the library still open?” “Nope, I’m afraid not. This isn’t Chicago. We close up at a respectable hour around here. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow.” Marion thanked the woman for her time then despairingly left the building. She retrieved the phone from her purse in another attempt to reach Allison, but again the operator gave her the same message as before, ‘please try again’. Before

putting the phone away she moved her fingers carefully over the numbers, this time calling her home to retrieve any messages that had come in while she was away. She was hoping to hear a message from Jerry. To her dismay there was not one message on her answering machine. She dropped the phone into her purse and began making her way down the street to her motel. “That’s strange,” she mused, “why hasn’t Allison called me? It’s getting late. And what about you Jerry Wilcox. Where on earth are you?” By the time she reached her room Marion was exhausted. Her feet ached from all the walking she had been faced with and what she desperately needed right now was a shower. As she was about undress a thought crossed her mind. She fumbled through the telephone directory which she found resting on the table near the motel room phone. Finding the airline listings, she began placing calls one by one to every airline that serviced flights between Jefferson, Missouri and Chicago. Just when she was beginning to believe it was hopeless, Central Airlines verified that an Allison Tate had booked a flight to Chicago only a few hours earlier, but unfortunately she did not make the flight. Marion dropped the phone on it’s base and grumbled beneath her breath. “If she missed her flight why hasn’t she called me?” Marion stomped into the bathroom and began disrobing while attempting to adjust the water temperature. The heat and steam filling the room around her did wonders in relaxing her tired and strained body. She stood beneath the hot flowing water temporarily relieving her muddled mind of all of it’s questions and worries. On completion of her shower, Marion drew back the shower curtain and reached for her towel. As she placed it up against her chest she shivered as a cold breeze touched her wet skin. The steam was dissipating rapidly and as she glanced up into the mirror shock waves ripped through her body. She spun herself around trembling with unmeasurable fear, and there facing her, his eyes piercing through hers, Marion saw the familiar face. As his eyes burned into hers, she felt herself losing control. She felt the towel drift down her legs onto the floor and there was nothing she could do about it. She could not move and her words were silent.

CHAPTER 17

Awaking in unfamiliar surroundings, Jerry Wilcox cringed as his stomach churned with nausea. His head thundered with excruciating pain as he attempted to focus in more clearly on the enormous amount of movement taking place all around him. Confused and dazed Jerry moved forward unaware he was being contained in a glass tube-like vessel. Bewildered and taken by surprise he crashed into the clear glass wall inflicting even more pain on himself. He groaned, irked by his ignorance, not knowing what was happening to him as he rubbed his face with the palm of his hand in hopes of easing away the newly acquired pain. Placing the palms of his hands up against the cool glass he leaned forward resting his body on the wall of his prison. He began scanning the area around him hoping to find some clue of his location. What he was witnessing went far beyond the realm of his immediate comprehension. The room in which he was imprisoned was very large, more like a warehouse. People were everywhere, no, they were not people. Jerry’s heart picked up it’s pace as he realized that these forms which moved about performing tasks were not people, not earthlings. Studying their faces and bodies with profound interest, his memory told him he had witnessed a scene such as this only yesterday. This had to be the storage facility on Madison. The beings were dressed in loose fitting garb, some were taller than others and it appeared that there were countless numbers of them that were physically different in appearance. There were short beings which could not have been taller than 4 feet in height whose heads were abnormally large and their eyes small and set close together. Their ears were barely visible, small openings amidst deep wrinkled skin that covered their heads in place of hair. And where a mouth would normally exist, there was nothing. They were busy at work rolling tables about in an organized fashion, lining them up in a row that began at the far end of the warehouse and stretched outward towards the back doors. There were many of them, too many for Jerry to count before becoming distracted. He watched as the taller beings moved up the rows uncovering the objects resting on the tables. As they diligently worked their way up the aisles coming closer to Jerry’s range of sight, Jerry was horrified at what he saw. The objects being uncovered were dead bodies; HUMAN bodies.

“Oh my God!” he sneered, feeling a blanket of sweat permeate through the pores of his skin. “What are those creatures doing?” Jerry felt overpowered with panic. Thoughts were rushing through his brain while his nerves began to unravel. “I’ve got to get out of here, I’ve got to get help!” He pounded wildly on the glass with his fists feeling it’s resistance, then in another frantic and desperate attempt, he kicked out with his feet and still his efforts proved futile. Jerry’s knees gave way to his weight sending him to the floor of the vessel. He remained positioned on his knees watching the movement around him. The taller beings positioned themselves along side of the human bodies and manipulating a small prong-like devise with their long bony fingers, inserted the devise inside the ear or nose of each dead human and carefully extracted a tiny object from inside. Once that procedure was completed, the tall being reached for another small utensil which he retrieved from a metal case fastened to the waist of his garb. He proceeded to make a large incision in the human’s chest below the rib cage. He cautiously inspected the area, carefully moving tissue allowing him to study the organs more thoroughly. He probed through the chest cavity with small utensils and on concluding his examination, the creature deposited a sample of tissue into a small vile filled with liquid. Then lowering his hands to the man’s chest he positioned his finger tips along the wound. He stood immobilized absorbed in concentration and for the first time Jerry noticed that the creature’s eyes did not have the benefit of eyelids. Instead, as he watched carefully, Jerry was certain that he saw a white film draw over the creature’s eyes giving him a blind appearance. Jerry continued to watch in amazement as the wound rapidly began repairing itself. When it had completely healed, the creature covered the body and without speaking a word instructed one of the smaller beings to move the body to another section of the warehouse. Jerry surmised that the bodies had to be removed as quickly as possible in order to make room for the new load that was waiting outside in the trucks. The loading dock doors were wide open making it easy for Jerry to see more of what was going on. He and Dunken had already witnessed the unloading process from the side alley outside. His capture happened so suddenly at the motel that he didn’t have time to devise a plan of action. He couldn’t help but wonder what Dunken was doing. He was probably sitting and waiting, wondering when Jerry was going to call him again. Jerry’s attention was abruptly interrupted as a loud humming sound vibrated against the floor and walls of the warehouse. He watched the creatures begin to gather in a central area, moving like robots, all looking up with blank lifeless

faces. He noticed a light begin to stream through the roof of the building. First it began as a faint dull light then gradually it expanded becoming larger in circumference, it’s brightness intensifying from one moment to another. The hum grew into a massive irritating drone as the roof appeared to open up above them. The bright illuminating light flowed down to the warehouse floor creating a large tunnel leading back up to……to where? Jerry had no idea. He moved his hands to cover his ears as the drone pierced through his eardrums. The sharpness of the pain began numbing his senses while it had no affect on the creatures who awaited it’s arrival. Just moments away from losing consciousness, Jerry’s muscles weakened with exhaustion as he fell face forward up against the glass. The drone had finally subsided bringing immediate relief to Jerry’s sanity. Unable to move, he looked to the center of activity. There he saw a triage system put into effect. The creatures were quick and certain when making their decisions, deciding where each body was to go. Bodies were carried into the circle of light emanating from a spacecraft which hovered beyond the roof. Jerry had no idea how far away the craft was located. As his eyes followed the streams of light they just seemed to disappear into the darkness. One by one the bodies disappeared into the light while every now and again a body or two would be placed onto a wheeled table where a creature would be standing by ready and waiting. Jerry focused his attention on the bodies that were being left behind. He saw the creatures roll the tables to a side wall aligned with large steel doors. It was the area containing the refrigerators while the ‘Henniger’s Cold Storage Facility’ was still in operation. He was not prepared for what he was about to witness. As the bodies began to pile up near the doors, a creature that he had not yet seen lumbered up to the waiting bodies. His legs were short and straight having no knee ts to make his movement smoother and easier. His arms were extremely long with hands that functioned with only two long fingers ed to them. Approaching one of the large refrigerator doors, he allocated tasks to six others just like him. Some removed the covers from the bodies while in two’s, the others removed the humans from their resting places and lugged them in single file to the door which was now being opened. The leader of the crew stood aside as his workers struggled to place the bodies onto a rotating conveyor belt which deposited their loads into a flaming furnace. Jerry cringed again as the nausea he felt earlier returned. It was horrifying to think that human beings were being murdered, stolen and destroyed. “But why?” snarled Jerry overwrought with rage and fear.

“What are they doing to our people and why?” Jerry slumped back mystified at everything he had been witnessing. Feeling a lump form in his throat it just then occurred to him where these bodies were coming from. The bodies belonged to the people who had been mysteriously dying over the past several months, and seeing them here now explained why they were disappearing from morgues. Yet something else stabbed in his chest, something even more sinister. “How does General Bergoff fit into all this?” muttered Jerry to himself. “He knows about this, he has to. Why else would the names of these people be locked up in his filing cabinet. God, I bet he knows what happened to the Viking II. He practically runs the Defense Department.” The speculations that were emerging in full force overwhelmed him. There were so many questions that needed answers. A shadow fell over his slumped body which jolted his attention back to the surface. As he looked up past the glass wall of his prison he was momentarily startled at being face to face with one of the creatures. It was one of the tall ones. Being unaware of the creature’s need for eye to eye in order to gain control of his victim, Jerry faced the creature head on. Within seconds he fell powerless to it’s mind control. The words, ‘it’s time for you to leave now’ thundered mercilessly inside his head. The glass vessel opened up and Jerry could feel for the first time since being imprisoned, a cool breeze filter through his lungs. He was instructed to follow the creature and without any effort, he found himself moving toward the tunnel of light. As he stepped into the circle he felt the floor beneath his feet disappear.

CHAPTER 18

Marion moved her head from side-to-side groaning as sharp pinching pains pulsated through the muscles of her neck and shoulders. Before opening her eyes she became conscious of her body laying on top of an extremely hard and uncomfortable surface. Cautiously she opened her eyes to a dimly lit room and immediately focused in on a low monotone hum that filled the room around her. Sitting up swiftly, Marion glanced around the room unaware of where she was and why she was there. Her eyes burned and watered as she strained them in the faint light hoping to recognize something, anything at all with a hint of familiarity about it. Unfortunately it wasn’t meant to be. The walls and the ceiling donned a pale shade of white, possibly gray. Jutting out from the wall to her right she caught sight of a bench-type seat visibly void of any padding, but clearly in view were two black straps resembling seatbelts hanging loosely from either side. Moving her eyes down to the hardness below her, she observed a metal table draped with a white sheet. It was roughly the size of a hospital stretcher. Marion searched her memory, scrutinizing every last detail of the events leading up to this point. She ed taking a shower at her motel room, but after that everything was a total blank. She jumped off the table landing on the cool metal floor below her. Marion looked down in shock to see her socks and shoes had been removed, and even more amazed to see a metal floor. “What is this place? Where am I?” She began pacing around the small room looking for a door. There was no visible sign of one and she was not able to locate one by moving her hands meticulously along the smooth walls. Almost immediately, it became obvious to her that the room also contained no window. She felt trapped and found it more difficult to breathe. She was becoming claustrophobic for the first time in her life. Consumed with panic, Marion threw herself against the wall and began pounding with her fists and shouting, “let me out! Damn it, let me out of this place!” She was ranting hysterically, her shouts becoming louder and more demanding. Suddenly, taking her by surprise, a door appeared to her left. It thrust open only taking a split second to raise from the floor to the ceiling. Marion withdrew her

pounding fists and moved back several paces putting more distance between her and the strange creature standing inside the doorway. She stood motionless waiting for it to make the first move, the nerves in her stomach fluttering as she felt the Being’s small dark eyes stare right through her body. As the silence continued, streams of hot sweat rolled down her back and between her breasts. Realizing that no progress was being made and conversation was none existent, Marion decided she would be the one to break the silence. “Who are you, and where am I? What do you want from me?” Marion had many questions lined up waiting to escape her lips. She began with a simple few but frustration quickly set in when the creature refused to speak. Observing his physical features it became apparent to her that perhaps it was not capable of speech. She was not able to see any physical evidence of a mouth located anywhere on it’s abnormally large head. It was difficult to get a clear view of the sides of it’s head to see if it was equipped with ears. All that she could see was row upon row of thick gray fleshy wrinkles which blended into it’s gray dull skin. She was not able to distinguish if this Being was male or female. It’s garb took on the same dull gray color as it’s skin and covered it’s body so tightly that it was almost impossible for Marion to distinguish the clothing from the actual body. Marion’s fear waned momentarily as her curiosity and genuine interest in this creature flourished to the forefront. Before she had a chance to finish her examination her thoughts were interrupted when the Being motioned with it’s hand to follow him. Marion hesitated, leading the creature to extend another more urgent wave of the hand this time. Logic told her that she had no choice but to obey his request at this time. Until she learned of her whereabouts and any possible avenues of escape, she was in no position to ruffle their skin. Perceiving her willingness to cooperate, the creature turned and walked through the door. It stepped into the hallway and waited for Marion to catch up and through the door. She remained a step or two behind as they briskly made their way down the hall. From behind, Marion picked up her mental evaluation of her strange guide. It’s cranium above the eyes was smooth and bulbous showing no signs of cranial, facial or neck hair. There was no waist to speak of and although he was extremely thin, Marion saw no evidence of ribs or a spinal cord. As the creature walked, his long lanky arms hung close to it’s body, but it’s hands swayed loosely showing no signs of wrist bones to stiffen the hand movements. As they approached a second corridor Marion was led halfway down, then stopping for only a second they waited as a door flashed open. She was led into a

large room filled with other human beings. Fifty or more she surmised. Most of them were strapped down on metal tables such as the one she had awoke on, all helplessly naked. Others laid freely on the tables their eyes staring blankly towards the ceiling obviously not aware of their surroundings. Marion cringed as she saw a dozen or so people, male and female struggling beneath the straps to escape. Their lips were moving as if crying out, yet no sound appeared. The creature led Marion into a small cubicle where two other creatures waited for her arrival. They began tearing away at her clothes, each one manipulating their two long fingers on each hand with such precision that Marion’s struggle to retain her clothing was ineffective. She was overcome with embarrassment and anger and as the tears rolled off her cheeks and her arms flung out at her assailants, the creatures moved away somehow knowing their small lightweight bodies were no match for her strength. Marion’s anger was averted when the three creatures all froze simultaneously as if hearing something, then looking at each other in acknowledgment, they all scampered anxiously out through the door. Marion quickly bent down to retrieve her clothes but before she could redress herself, a taller creature much like the others entered the cubicle. His eyes captured hers and as he stared she could feel her thoughts weaken and become cloudy. She lost the strength and the will to fight. The creature placed his hand lightly on her arm and led her alongside a metal table that sat empty in the large room filled with the other humans. As his stare invaded her thoughts she could hear a voice inside of her head telling her to lie down on the table. She could hear herself yelling out in her mind, “leave me alone. What do you think you’re doing?” And to her surprise, a voice answered back, “It’s all right, I’m not going to hurt you.” Marion watched helplessly as two of the small creatures strapped her down to the table. When their task was completed, the taller Being proceeded to position a bright light at the foot of the table. Marion was not able to raise her head to see what was happening to her as a heavy object like a helmet had been placed on her head. She felt a twinge of pain between her legs which caused her body to jerk. The tall Being noticed her distress and before continuing, he locked his eyes onto hers and concentrated deeply, telepathically assuring her ‘not to worry’. Picking up where he left off, he inserted a long blunt instrument into her uterus. Marion no longer felt any pain but the movement inside of her was uncomfortable. She was relieved when the horrible ordeal had ended. She watched as one of the small creatures raised an open vile filled with liquid then closed it after the tall Being deposited something very tiny into it. She cringed

and nausea overwhelmed her body as the tall Being again spoke to her without the use of spoken words. “Yours will be a strong baby Miss Stevenson. Someday you will see.” Without a flicker of emotion, the creature turned and walked away. Marion was whisked away into the cubicle and dressed with exhausting haste then led back out into the corridor. She was still unable to control her movements or to speak, all she could do was follow and obey. They had traveled down several corridors before coming to a door where she was instructed to stop. The door opened and with a slight push, Marion found herself stumbling to the floor of the room, dizzy but feeling the numbness waning away. “Marion!” shouted a familiar voice above her. “They got you too? When? Where were you?” The voice belonged to Allison. She was overjoyed to see Marion. “Hey there lady, I see you’ve come to our party,” scoffed Jerry Wilcox who was sitting on one of the hard benches that extruded from the wall. “What do you think of our hosts? Aren’t they a wonderful bunch of monsters. Damn animals,” he sneered. Marion managed to stand up and retain her balance, but she found it necessary to apply pressure to her abdomen. She was feeling nauseous. “I guess they got you too. Don’t worry, it goes away eventually,” explained Allison. They greeted me the same way. I wonder what they were doing to us?” She looked at Jerry then at Marion. Marion looked at Jerry and directed the question at him hoping he had some answers. “What do you think Jerry. What are they after?” Jerry had no answers concerning the aliens. His only concern now was finding out how General Bergoff fit into all this. “Sorry Marion, your guess is as good as mine.” “But Jerry, why the three of us? Doesn’t it seem strange that you, Allison and I are here together. This can’t be some random abduction taking place. This HAD to be preplanned. Someone knew we were working on this case together. But who? Was it alien or human?” Moving both hands through her thick hair, she gave the dull white wall a kick.

“One thing I know for certain, and that’s General Bergoff’s involvement in this. I also know that these aliens are involved in all those mysterious deaths. I tried to explain to you what I had stumbled onto the other night when my line was disconnected. A couple of our friends here found out where I was staying and they gave me a free ride back to their warehouse on Madison Street. You should see their operation Marion. They’ve been hard at work these past few months collecting all those dead bodies and hauling them to the warehouse. I wonder if the Madison warehouse was it’s central facility or if another one exists in Europe. I briefly saw them at work before I was brought on board.” He paused briefly shaking his head in disbelief, then seeing Marion’s attention locked onto his words, he cleared his throat then continued to relate his story from where he left off. “You’ve undoubtedly seen these creatures by now. The small ugly ones do most of the work while the taller guys seem to be more like leaders. Well, down in that warehouse the tall guys were cutting people open one at a time like on an assembly line. They’d remove something from their chest then have the little guys roll them out of the way to make room for dozens more that were outside waiting in trucks. Eventually, some ended up in the furnace and the rest were given the invisible elevator ride up into the spacecraft.” Jerry stopped and sighed, then he finished by saying, “I wonder what it is that determines what bodies come up here?” Allison sat down beside Jerry and moved her hand gently across his tense shoulders. “The fact that Bergoff is involved with these aliens would explain why the Viking II’s disappearance has been covered up. Bergoff can’t let the public know that alien’s were responsible for destroying the salvage ship, not only would it cause a worldwide panic, but I don’t think our new friends here would take it too lightly if Bergoff snitched on them.” “Why do you suppose Bergoff is involved with these aliens anyhow?” asked Marion. “I doubt that money’s involved. What could they have offered him to make him stab his fellow human beings in the back?” Marion leaned up against the wall wanting so desperately to know the answers. “Why are the aliens killing all those people on earth, and how does age figure into it? Why 40?” Allison turned to Jerry again and asked, “do you think they could be planning to take over the earth?” The thought about how she managed to get involved in this entire affair flashed through her mind. She chuckled nervously. “Maybe they’re replacing us all, one at a time.”

Silence shrouded the room after her last remark. Allison didn’t mean for it to be a serious observation. Jerry understood that. However, after giving it some thought, Marion stepped forward bringing new life to Allison’s less than serious remark. “You know Allison, you may be onto something. All those people that we checked out through the record’s department, ? Those people all appeared to have died twice. Back in the 40’s, 50’s and 60’s. Now here they are again dying in the 90’s.” Marion looked at the vacant expression on Allison and Jerry’s face. “Don’t you see? Maybe these guys, or better yet, these things are stealing these bodies because they’re not humans. Maybe they were replacements that were put on earth to function as a humans.” “If that’s the case, why are they dying now?” asked Jerry not quite convinced of Marion’s sudden theory. “I don’t know,” stated Marion. “Maybe something went wrong. They want the bodies back before autopsies are done to prevent us from finding something suspicious.” “If that’s so,” interjected Jerry, “then there’s more humans involved then just Bergoff. When I went to the morgue looking for files when this investigation first got started, the file clerk explained to me how some guys from Washington arrived before me and took the dead body into their custody. Supposedly to take the body to the hospital where it never arrived. They were probably just acting as couriers for the aliens.” Marion scanned the room thoroughly looking for some way of escaping. Directly above them was a large grate, part of the ventilation system. “Jerry, look up at the ceiling. We need to get up there. That’s the only way out of here.” “Are you crazy lady. We can’t get up there, it’s too high. And even if we could get out of here, where were you intending to go? We could be a million miles away from earth by now.” Jerry stood up and peered up at the grate. It was large enough for a body to fit through, but….but he couldn’t think of a good excuse not to try an escape. “What the hell,” he scoffed. “If we’re going to die, it may as well be while we’re attempting to break out.” They sat down and discussed their plan. They all agreed it was a long shot that may not succeed. It would take a lot of strength and good balance, and they had

nothing to work with. It was agreed that Jerry would lift Marion to his shoulders, then Allison who was smaller and lighter would have to climb the two bodies until she reached Marion’s shoulders. It was all up to balance. They attempted it eight times until they were exhausted and close to defeat. They dropped themselves down on the hard benches and began resting their weary bodies before attempting the balancing act again. Just as they were about to begin, their plans were interrupted when the door to their room opened suddenly. This time it was one of the taller Beings that appeared. He focused his eyes on Jerry and within seconds had taken control of his body. Marion realized then that the alien used his staring eyes to gain control of it’s victim. Somehow it was able to interfere with people’s volition and force them to do things against their will. Not wanting to detach themselves from Jerry, Marion yelled to Allison to attack. Acting on the signal, Allison thrust herself forward along with Marion knocking the alien to the floor. Jerry stood immobile locked in a transitory state of mind control. Before Marion and Allison could move Jerry through the door, two small creatures arrived and simultaneously raised a gun-like object which sent out a spray of mist sending the ladies crashing to the floor. They lost consciousness immediately. When they awoke and regained their senses, to their dismay, Jerry was gone.

CHAPTER 19

Moving down a long corridor which appeared to curve either right or left at regular intervals, Jerry mused inside his mind how plain and unattractive the interior of the aliens’ craft was. Each corridor and room he was able to see along the way was draped in the same dull white or gray color. No pictures or wall decor were on display to give character to the surroundings, nor could he see any comfortable furniture, only the odd hard cushion-free bench jutting out from a wall was apparent along the way. The lighting in the corridors was extremely dim as was the case inside the rooms. The light illuminating the halls was derived from small light fixtures situated close to the ceiling. Jerry guessed they were placed approximately 20 feet apart emitting a soft green glow. It was a strange sensation having total control of his thinking ability but not having any control over his physical body. His body moved forward like a computerized robot, his mind trapped within it’s rigid body. Coming to a dead end in one of many corridors, Jerry’s eyes watched as a large steel door flashed open before him. He was led into a round room in which the entire circumference was lit with an array of those same soft green lights. At ten foot intervals and sitting with straight postures, another species of aliens which Jerry had not yet seen, sat patiently and quietly on hard benches along the walls. Their human physical qualities were so uncanny. Their arms were more proportional to their bodies and each one donned straggly strands of hair on their more normal size heads. The eyes were still small and dark like the others, but for the first time, Jerry recognized what appeared to be a working mouth with lips. The nose on their glaring and stern faces sat unusually close to the face’s surface, but it was there. Jerry moved his eyes towards the other smaller aliens and then to the tall alien who was initiating conversation between them. The new species had to be the next step in their evolutionary cycle, Jerry thought. In the midst of his thought processing Jerry became aware of his body being led into a round glass chamber located in the center of the room. It was much like the one he was held prisoner in back at the warehouse, but this one was much larger. Two of the smaller aliens positioned him between two wrist shackles that hung from the interior walls of the chamber. They were fastened securely around

both wrists before the aliens vacated the premises and sealed the door. What Jerry was about to take part in was one of the aliens’ most distressing ancillary experiences, it’s goal was to elicit physical pain. They spent a great deal of time creating pain in their victims in hopes it would enable them to examine the neural pathways in humans that allow for the transmission and perception of pain. Beginning at Jerry’s upper extremities, the aliens targeted certain areas of his body and with an nuclear powered laser zapped him repeatedly. Each time the laser penetrated his skin it caused Jerry excruciating and unremitting localized pain. The procedure continued until they had worked their way down to his bare feet. As hard as he tried to think away the pain, it was without success. The two small aliens returned into the chamber to place a metallic plate around his chest. This time, with the use of a foot-long rod energized with electrical currents emitting a red glowing aura, they touched several body parts transmitting the electrical charge into Jerry’s jerking form. The pain was agonizing as it ripped through centralized areas of his body. The pain grew in intensity until he mentally screamed out begging them to stop, but it was to no avail. During the entire ordeal, the tall alien stood several paces away, his eyes transfixed, staring deeply into Jerry’s pain-ridden eyes. Jerry felt himself become weak. When the procedure ended, he felt a wave of relief come over him, unfortunately his relief had come prematurely. The aliens had not yet finished their torture. They placed another more elaborate mechanism onto his head. Numerous wires of various colors ran from the wide metal headband which connected to a large atomic x-ray machine. Jerry knew instantly what it was, but he had no idea how he knew it. The data flashed inside his brain. Perhaps the aliens planted it there. One of the small aliens standing nearest to the controls began turning dials and pushing buttons with quick precision, obviously well-versed in his task. Jerry’s body buckled at the waist slumping him forward in unrelenting suffering. Shocking bursts of energy pierced into each and every corner of his brain instilling burning explosions within it’s cavity. The small alien operating the machine motioned to the tall Being to approach.

They watched the monitors, completely absorbed with curiosity as it ed Jerry’s physiological components. Their enormous interest in the extraordinary and complex tapestry of Jerry’s human mind was suddenly disconnected when Jerry’s human instinct for survival allowed incredible strength to manifest itself. It enabled him to break through the mind control barrier. However, by that time, he had only enough strength available to dislodge the metal band from his head before succumbing to unconsciousness. Moving towards the chamber, the tall alien stood motionless exasperated at the human’s determination. Long before this point, most other humans would have lost their will to survive. Either through physical weakness or simply by allowing fear to invade them. “Well, well. We’ve certainly found ourselves a live one here,” speculated the tall alien. “This one will need to be convinced to us. When the Mother Ship arrives he will be ed on as a breeder.” Turning to face the new species who remained seated throughout the experiments as spectators, he slowly turned full circle in order to address his thoughts to all. “Someday my brothers, we will no longer be a nation of hybrids and experimental misfits. With strong fighting breeders such as this one, we will rebuild a new earth. Yes, when the cities crumble and the mountains fall and the sun turns black; we will be ready.” He turned and stole one last glance at Jerry’s lifeless body before heading to the door and disappearing from sight. Jerry’s body was unshackled from the chamber and carried out to a waiting examination table. Two aliens lifted him onto the table while a third one rolled him out into the corridor. By the time they reached the room where Allison and Marion were waiting, Jerry had begun to move ever so slightly. He was moaning and groaning, feeling the after-affects from his horrendous ordeal. As the aliens entered the room they were fully prepared with their spray guns in case the two females attempted another attack. Pointing them in their direction, Allison and Marion stepped back against the wall in order to avoid another assault. They stood and watched as Jerry was lifted from the table and placed on the cool metal floor. The moment the aliens disappeared from the room, both women rushed to Jerry’s side. “Jerry! heh Jerry! Are you okay?” called Allison worried sick. “Come on Jerry, wake up will you.” She stroked Jerry’s hair until he began to open his eyes.

“Heh there Al. It’s nice to see a pretty face around here again.” He struggled to stand up but only managed with the help of his two cohorts. “I don’t know about the two of you,” he grumbled. “But we’ve got to get out of this hell hole, and I mean real fast. Their hospitality stinks.” “I don’t know what they did to you,” replied Marion. “But you know what? I’m game if you are.” Looking at Allison she waited for her reply. “Count me in guys. I’m not about to stay here all by myself,” answered Allison. There was no point in discussing any other means of escape for they all knew there was only one way out, and that was straight up. They picked up where they had left off earlier, before they had come for Jerry. Marion managed quite easily to balance herself on Jerry’s shoulders but it was seemingly impossible for Allison to reach Marion’s shoulders. She only managed half the distance before losing her balance thereby causing Marion and Jerry to lose their balance also. After many unsuccessful tries they finally decided to switch places. Allison rested herself above Jerry and after failing a half a dozen times, much to their surprise, Marion somehow managed to reach the top. It was tentative at first, but thanks to her quick reflexes, Marion threw her hands up as she began to lose her balance and gripped her fingers tightly into the grate’s ridges. She held her position until balance was regained. She attempted to pull the grate down but it did not budge, leaving her perturbed and frustrated. Left with only one other direction, Marion wasted no time with gentleness. She pushed down hard onto Allison’s shoulders with her bare feet then with a newly acquired burst of energy, she gave the grate a rough jerk upwards and presto! The grate broke free and cleared a hole in the ceiling large enough for a human to fit through. Using the muscles in her upper arms, Marion was able to pull herself up through the hole leading into the ventilation duct. “All right!,” shouted Allison. “You did it! But how do WE get up there now?” grumbled Allison despairingly. Jerry stood quietly in thoughtful consideration. After several minutes ed he was almost ready to it defeat when he placed his hands on his waist, and feeling the leather belt around his pants, he hollered. “We need to make a rope. Heh Marion, are you wearing a belt?” “Nope, I’m afraid not. What about Allison?” Marion called down.

Looking at Jerry and not saying a word, Allison had already begun taking off her belt. The moment she handed it to him he quickly began fastening the two together. They were immediately dismayed at the length of the two belts. Before either of them had a chance to vocalize their disappointment, Marion had already torn up her cotton shirt and was in the process of knotting the pieces together. She shouted down at the others to do the same. Allison wasn’t too keen about the idea of running around with just a bra but complied with the request at Jerry’s nudge. Once they had enough material fastened together, Jerry rolled up their portion and tossed it up so that it landed directly into Marion’s waiting hands. She worked quickly and carefully securing her end of the material onto the other end, and when it met with her approval she searched out the air duct for a brace to tie her end to. Once that had been completed, she lowered down the line and waited as Allison shimmied her way up into the vent opening, then as Jerry followed behind. Slowly they inched their way down the air duct which narrowed in spots, where it was necessary for each of them to duck their heads and forcefully squeeze themselves through those sections. Every once in awhile they would here movement close by and instinctively would freeze in place until the noise had cleared. As they traveled further down the air duct they came across muffled sounds in the distance. As they came closer the sounds became more distinguishable. It was audible conversation. Marion, Allison and Jerry stopped simultaneously all looking blankly at each other. They were all thinking the same thing. “Who could that be?” Inching their way closer to the voices, they came to a stop above a room. Moving close enough to the grate, they were able to look down and steal a glimpse. Both Marion and Jerry moved back hastily drained of all their color. Allison took a peak of whatever it was that left Marion and Jerry in a state of shock. All she was able to see were two men deep in conversation. Neither of them appeared familiar to her. “What is it?” whispered Allison to Jerry. When she did not receive a reply, she turned to Marion and asked, “Who are they Marion?” Marion placed her finger to her lips indicating to Allison to be quiet. The last thing they needed now was to be discovered. Silently they sat and listened, aghast with disbelief at what they were hearing. “What do you think we should do?” asked the man in civilian clothes.

“Well we can’t let them go. For one thing, the Zordon’s won’t part with them. They’re prime stock for what they have in mind. Not only that, but if they’re allowed to return to earth, you and I are good as dead,” stated the man in the military uniform. At the sound of an opening door the two men cut off conversation. They remained silent until the tall alien who entered the room prompted them to speak. The purpose of his visit was to discuss the future status of their three new prisoners. He made it quite clear that they would not be returning back to earth and warned the humans in his company to make certain no one tampered with his imminent plans. The alien glared into their faces and spoke with confident authority. “We wouldn’t want to find out that human blood is thicker than commitment, do we earthlings?” Then as he began walking to the door he stopped abruptly with one last thought. “Are you absolutely certain no one else is involved in this?” The human dressed in military garb moved forward shaking his head. “Yes, very certain. When we tracked Mr. Wilcox’s car to the rental agency we questioned the man who signed the car out to him. There was not an ounce of doubt in his mind. Mr. Wilcox was alone.” Satisfied with the situation at hand, the alien departed from the room. Within seconds the two humans shook hands then parted company, leaving a foreboding air behind. Allison had heard enough. She buried her face inside the palms of her hands wishing she had never gotten herself involved in this entire affair. She wanted to go back home where aliens only crossed her path Saturday evenings on the SciFi channel. The conversation was brief but they had heard enough to know that their lives were in serious danger. If they were to escape, it would be without anyone else’s assistance. There was nowhere else to go but forward so they forged on praying for a miracle. The duct seemed to go on forever. They pushed through a narrow curve to the right and traveled several more minutes until they came to a dead end. There was nowhere to go now but down. Marion and Allison found themselves taking deep breaths trying to work out the nervous trembling that had engulfed their bodies.

Jerry too was nervous and scared which visualized itself in a blanket of cold sweat. “Well ladies, we’re at an ime. We can’t stay up here forever.” Looking at Marion he asked, “would you like to see if the coast is clear, or shall I?” “Be my guest Jerry old boy.” Marion waved her hand in the direction of the grate. Making certain that the coast was clear, Jerry fastened the material rope to a ridge inside the air duct then lowered it cautiously down through the vent opening. To ensure their safety, Jerry lowered himself down first and surveyed the area. His feet froze to the floor as his eyes stared in ghastly horror. “Oh my dear God,” he whispered. Marion and Allison were becoming impatient. They no longer wanted to wait for Jerry’s signal so they slid down to the floor and one by one they froze at the sight before them.

CHAPTER 20

Jerry, Marion and Allison stood motionless in a state of perplexed wonderment. They had never before witnessed such an incredible yet eerie sight. The room they were standing in was enormous and round. It was very dark except for a blue translucent glow of light that pulsated slowly, keeping time with a low dull hum emanating from a large liquid-filled apparatus sitting in the center of the room. Long narrow tubing could be seen inside the machine positioned vertically just slightly extending beyond it’s upper surface. Red liquid mixed with air bubbles filled the vertical tubes within the clear liquid contained by the large strange object. Connected to the tube’s ends which extended up towards the ceiling were many smaller flexible and transparent tubes carrying the flow of red and clear liquid. As the eyes of the three awe-stricken visitors followed the tubing’s path, they watched in amazement how each line veered off in slightly different directions. One by one in a uniform fashion they were ed to the wall close to the ceiling. From there they continued their journey down along the surface of the wall where each one began branching off into much thinner tubes, which visibly connected up with a half a dozen or more small oval-shaped tanks of liquid. The walls were lined with the tanks, at least six rows from floor to ceiling each one separated by only inches extending along the entire perimeter of the room. Marion began moving closer overwhelmed with curiosity. Allison and Jerry trailed close behind. As they neared the walls, a clammy chill ran down their spines in reaction to their discovery. The blue hazy glow of light which seemed to be the room’s only source of light was emerging from a light source which shone up from beneath each of the tanks. Allison raised her hand and placed it on the clear surface where she caught glimpse of her reflection on what she was certain was glass. She expected it to be cool to the touch, but instead found the glass pleasantly warm. She had a pretty good idea why the warm temperature was necessary. Turning her attention to Marion and Jerry, Allison could see their quizzical expressions over wrought with countless speculations and concern.

“How many Marion? How many of these things, these creatures do you think there are?” Turning her body full circle exasperated by the numbers, she herself couldn’t venture to guess. “God Al, I don’t know……75, maybe 100.” Marion looked at Jerry for his opinion. Jerry had already been scanning the rows down and across and was fully prepared to give Marion his answer. “I may be off slightly, but my calculations would bet there’s at least 100 of these………..are they what I think they are ladies?” “Fetuses? If that’s what you’re thinking, I’d say you’re right on.” Marion moved up closer and silently studied the small curled up fetus with the small black dots representing it’s eyes. She noticed for the first time the gurgling and bubbling sounds coming from the tanks. It was the sound she had often heard when around fish tanks. Looking at the fetus she observed veins channeling every which way through the hand-sized mass. Small colored wires were attached to them which in turn were ed to the sides of the individual tanks. As Marion observed more closely, she ruled out the possibility that the clear liquid was mere water. It had a thicker texture to it, perhaps to assist the fetus to stay afloat preventing it from sinking to the hard floor of the tank. Each small form floated peacefully inside their warm confines. Jerry walked to the center of the room stopping at the large machine which was clearly functioning as the mother of all these babies. It was their life- system. The machine was providing the necessary blood and nourishment through it’s artificial umbilical cords. In the hopes of finding a door, Allison cautiously inched her way around the large room until she came upon a faintly lit instrument . An instrument looking like a thermometer housed a red light which fluctuated up and down consistently as the distinct sound of heart beats filtered through a second mechanism aded to two nearby monitoring units. There were dials and levers situated below viewing screens all labeled with indistinguishable markings. Leaving everything intact, Allison decided to draw this new finding to the other’s attention. She ambled over to them frequently looking over her shoulder terrified of being caught. Jerry and Marion were busy examining the life- unit, inspecting it’s remarkable functioning capabilities.

“Heh guys,” Allison whispered as she approached close behind them. “I’ve found something else. Come and see.” Jerry and Marion followed her to the area where she had discovered the instrument . The dim lighting made it difficult to see the with any useful degree of detail. Marion pointed to the moving red light eagerly stating with absolute certainty that the contraption was a fetal monitor. It was monitoring the heart beats of all of the babies contained in that room. “I can’t believe this setup,” whispered Marion. “These aliens are actually growing babies, and it’s all being done with machines. Why? And what do you suppose they’re going to do with them in the future?” “I’d like to know where these babies are originating from. How were they conceived and by whom?” Allison subconsciously placed her hand on her abdomen. “I don’t know about the two of you,” growled Jerry attempting to keep his voice low, “but this isn’t natural, and you can bet that whatever their agenda, it involves our earth.” He lowered his face close to the levers and dials, squinting his eyes to see them more clearly. “Damn it!” he snarled in frustration. “We can’t let this monstrosity take it’s course. We have to disable this unit and kill these things.” Marion and Allison both felt the pang of guilt wash over their bodies. In unison, they turned themselves around looking sullenly at the many helpless and alive babies. Allison was the first to speak, directing her words to Marion. “Do you feel as strange as I do about this whole thing? I mean…..do you feel connected to these babies? I don’t know why, but I do. Maybe it’s my maternal instincts bringing about this guilt upheaval inside my gut.” Marion paused hoping to get a grip on her feelings. The same ones that Allison had just described. There was no logical explanation to justify the attachment that she was feeling to these….these…..creatures.

Jerry detected the hesitation in Marion and Allison’s demeanor. Running the palms of his hands over his face to clear the stress, then taking a deep breath, he took hold of one of Allison’s hands and one of Marion’s hands and squeezed them securely inside of his. “We have to do this ladies. We don’t know what their plans for these babies are. We don’t even know what they are. This is our future, the earth’s future that could grossly and negatively be affected by all this.” Marion sighed and biting her lip replied, “okay Jerry, I know this has to be done. You’ve got my .” Then looking over at Allison, she waited for her approval. “Yah, yah, just do it and get it over with. This is going to eat away at me for the rest of my life.” Allison buried her face inside the palms of her hands not wanting to be witness to the mass murder that was about to take place. Hoping to break through the dark shadow that was surrounding them, in a light lofty tone Marion chuckled and remarked, “at this rate your worries won’t last that long.” Jerry moved up to the machine and took a firm grip of a lever and hesitated unexpectedly. He could feel the sweat pouring through the millions of pores on his body. Silently in his mind he wished he could be relieved of the responsibility. At that very instant, Jerry’s wish had come true. The three of them jerked to attention as the sound of a door flashing open startled them and immediately disrupted their plans to destroy the fetuses. “Well well,” came a voice from a tall alien standing inside the doorway. He was accompanied by five or six smaller aliens. It was difficult to be sure of the numbers due to the faint light in the room. As he spoke, his eyes were intensely focused on the faces of the three visitors. The slit which was positioned where a mouth would normally be did not move, yet his words were clearly heard and understood. “So Miss Stevenson, Miss Tate and Mr. Wilcox; I see you’ve had a chance to inspect our Incubatorium. What do you think of it?” He stood with perfect posture donning an air of pride.

Allison stepped forward ired by the entire matter. “I think it stinks personally. You can’t grow babies like they were some crop, it’s not normal.” “Oh really Miss Tate. By who’s standards are you basing your opinion on?” asked the alien. “Human standards,” sneered Allison as she crossed her arms across her chest. “Oh really, Miss Tate. You amuse me. Earthlings know nothing about creation. Their expertise lies in destruction. I must tell you how grateful I am to you humans for being so weak and ignorant.” The tall alien began to laugh victoriously. Marion interjected; “what exactly do you mean by that remark? Why are you grateful?” “It’s only a matter of time before you destroy each other and your planet. The planet earth has been dying for decades and it’s people are helplessly dying of decease because of it. Not to mention the fact that human’s find it necessary to kill one another.” Marion found it difficult to respond appropriately. The alien was apparently well-educated on earthly matters. “So what is all this?” She motioned her hand towards the tanks. “These Miss Stevenson are the future of the new earth……they…” Before he could continue he was interrupted by Jerry who vocalized his anger. “What the hell do you mean by the future earth? If you think we’re going to stand by and allow you to destroy it, well…well it isn’t going to happen.” “Oh really Mr. Wilcox, and what do you propose to do about it? It seems to me you’re not in a position to stop us. Besides, would you really want to destroy these children, your children?” “What the hell are you talking about? How can they be human? You would need human eggs and sperms and…..” This time it was the alien who interjected. “That’s true Mr. Wilcox. You see, our species has gone through many changes over the last few centuries. Our people were faced with extinction 75 life-spans

ago when an onset of irreversible global drought fell upon us. We depend on water for our overall existence. Our planet’s atmosphere was saturated with moisture at the beginning, the water vapor circulated through our vital organs keeping us renewed. The drought forged on eventually leaving us no choice but to build ships and abandon our planet.” The tall alien walked to the center of the room where the large life- unit stood. He looked up at it and smiled. Marion walked closer to the machine hoping for more information. “Why did you choose Earth? There are so many other planets in our solar system, and where did you come from?” In order to speak to the human, the alien turned to face her. “We are from another solar system. It was our first thought to seek out another planet close to home but the system was dying. Some were destroyed by the same drought that hit our planet, others had very thin dry atmospheres mostly of carbon dioxide which we could not adjust to. We made our home inside our ships for many lifespans. Your planet Earth was most similar to our planet. Our axis of rotation was tilted at 24 degrees, just a half degree more than the Earth’s. Therefore we also experienced climatical changes which you call ‘seasons’. So you see Miss Stevenson, if we were to survive as a race, this planet would be the one most suitable for our needs.” Marion clenched her teeth together in order to hold back a loud and angry verbal assault. She spun herself around shaking her head until finally regaining control of her burning temper. “All these little Zordons here, is this how your species reproduces? Don’t they require Zordon mothers to nurture them?” “Our species is only capable of breeding every 10 human years and because of the changes our bodies were forced to undergo, we began dying off faster than we could reproduce. We could not wait for a 10 year cycle to come around so we began experimenting with gene cloning. Unfortunately many of our people died because of bacterial resistance, and the embryos that survived and thrived brought deformity among our offspring. That is why you see us in different ways.” “I still don’t get it,” blurted out Allison eager to know more about the room filled with live fetuses. “You said these were OUR children. I want to know what

that means.” “Be patient Miss Tate, you’re in no hurry to go anywhere. I hope that by giving you this information you will understand our agenda better.” “Your agenda!” cried out Jerry with contempt in his voice. “Murdering an entire planet? Is that your so-called agenda, and we’re suppose to sit back and accept that? I saw a bunch of…..of aliens who…” Jerry jerked back perturbed when the tall alien broke into his speech. “We are Zordons Mr. Wilcox. All of us.” After having made the statement, the tall Zordon waved his hand giving Jerry permission to continue. “All right then, I saw some Zordons earlier when you so viciously implemented torture on my body. They were so close to being human in appearance. How could you manufacture beings that have barely any resemblance to your original species? You’d have to use human eggs and……..Oh my God! That’s what you’re doing here on Earth. You’re using humans as guinea pigs in your quest for self-preservation, aren’t you?” The Zordon remained silent. “You damn murderer!” shouted Jerry. He flung himself forward at the alien who had just incriminated himself with his silence. As he felt the weight of his body go down on the alien, he was quickly prevented from doing any further damage or harm. One of the small Zordons raised a familiar gun-like object and without hesitation, sprayed the mist into Jerry’s angered face. Within seconds he had fallen lifelessly to the floor. The tall Zordon regained his stance and in an unusually calm state of mind, he ordered the other Zordons to remove the visitors.

CHAPTER 21

Marion and Allison were led down several corridors until they arrived into a room much unlike the others they had seen. The ceiling was exceedingly high displaying a large circular disc embedded into it’s center cavity. Two mechanical rings one within the other rotated continuously traveling in opposite directions producing a monotonous drone. Marion felt a vibration beneath her feet which emanated from the mechanism. Sitting directly below the disc was a circular platform set aside from the cold metal flooring by it’s dark iron quality. As the rings turned with the ongoing drone the light’s dimness faded in and out. The two small aliens equipped with the spray guns nudged Marion and Allison towards the platform. Once on, the monotonous drone transformed into a shrill pitched crackling of live electricity as the rings began rotating at an ever increasing speed. A flash of bright light streaked in a full circle around the two trembling and terrified visitors. Within seconds their bodies disappeared from their spot on the dark platform. When Marion and Allison opened their eyes they were surprised and confused. They had just moments ago been whisked away from their position on what had to be a transporting device. Now here they stood, imprisoned in a glass vessel with just enough room to turn around and no recollection of how and when they arrived. Each of the ladies pressed themselves up against the glass wall of their cell glancing helplessly at each other. “Marion,” called Allison. “What are we going to do and where do you suppose Jerry is?” Marion nodded her head not sure what to say. Being outnumbered and on alien territory, it seemed pointless to her to tell Allison not to worry and everything including Jerry was going to be all right. She moved her lips to answer but no words sprang forth. Marion watched as Allison allowed her body to drop in defeat to the floor. She placed her forehead up against the glass and just stared into empty space. Time ed without any formal observance. It wasn’t until Marion’s attention was distracted by the rumbling stemming from her empty stomach when she realized

for the first time how long it had been since she had last eaten. She was starved and thirsty, the pangs erupted, ravishing her insides relentlessly. For the first time since arriving on board the alien craft, she noticed that there had been no evidence of food or water anywhere. Bringing to mind the physical characteristics of the aliens, it occurred to her that their need for food and water was not the key to their survival. Only one breed of species aboard appeared to be equipped with a mouth, and who knows, perhaps it was dysfunctional and not utilized to ingest nourishment. Marion mused as she applied pressure to her growling stomach, wondering what provided their life if not food and water. She had become so deeply engrossed in her thoughts she hadn’t noticed the tall Zordon alien standing by her glass prison waiting for her undivided attention. Allison was the first to notice the form standing motionless, waiting to be recognized. She stood up quickly and began rapping the palms of her hands on the glass wall hoping to get Marion’s attention. When she finally accomplished her task, Allison pointed her finger over Marion’s shoulder until her friend got the message. Marion turned her body so that she was facing the alien head on. “So Miss Stevenson, are you and Miss Tate ready to cooperate? You may find that what we have to offer you may not be so bad.” The alien smiled assuringly. “What could you possibly offer us that we’d be interested in? You come to Earth and murder our people for what? To satisfy your so-called agenda?” Angered by the Zordon’s blatant and evasive offer she crashed her closed fist up against the glass directing the attack towards her captor. “Now now Miss Stevenson. Your opinion of us is premature and very exaggerated. We did not come to your Earth as murderers. If you think about it and you are honest with yourself you would have to agree that our species, yours and mine are very similar. When faced with destruction we instinctively fight for survival. Is that not why you and your friends attempted to escape knowing how futile your efforts would prove? We all want to survive Miss Stevenson, and the fittest will eventually succeed. As you can see our race does not survive by means of physical endurance and strength. We utilize our vast intellectual capabilities and scientific knowledge to maintain our lives.”

“No!” shouted Marion hysterically. You use human lives to sustain your existence. You… you…” Marion couldn’t find the words to continue her assault. “No, you are incorrect in your assumptions,” retorted the alien with selfconfidence. “It is true that we need the humans to provide us with an extended existence, however it was and still is not our intention to destroy the humans we use. As with any new experimentation there are always unwanted and unexplainable failures. For one of our life-spans we worked feverishly trying to find the correct biological cell structure in humans that would unite freely with our DNA cell structure so that by hybrid breeding, our race would eventually inherit many of your human qualities. We are striving to build a new and better race, a race with intelligence and strength.” “Why is strength so important to you? You yourself mentioned earlier that we humans are physically destructive,” stated Marion becoming more and more agitated. “No Miss Stevenson, it’s not physical strength that motivates your destructive tendencies. It’s greed and power that brings your Earth closer to it’s final resting place. When that day arrives we will be many in numbers; intelligence to rebuild and strength to survive the toil.” Allison could no longer stand by and listen to the macabre talk that filtered through her brain which was being transmitted from the alien’s thoughts. “That doesn’t explain all those humans who died thirty-forty years ago. We know you were responsible for the deaths.” “Yes Miss Tate you are correct. We know that you have discovered the connection, that is why you are here now. However, those deaths were not intentional. It would be detrimental to our cause if we came waving a flag of aggression. We seek no war. The weak perished from complications derived from the necessary tissue biopsies and implants. Their frail bodies rejected the procedures and eventually they experienced internal bleeding which caused…..” The alien’s thoughts were suddenly halted in mid sentence. “Caused their deaths,” screamed Allison. “You stand there insisting that you’re not murderers yet you it that humans died repeatedly from your experiments. They were not invited to take part, you volunteered them with the help of your mind control. You’re nothing but a bunch of hypocrites.”

“If we were hostile and intentionally seeking out to destroy your people we would not take precautions to ensure their health and well-being,” replied the Zordon. He looked sternly into Allison’s face hoping to convey a facade of genuine concern. “We do not use more humans than is necessary to conduct our business Miss Tate and Miss Stevenson. It is true that we have as you put it ‘abducted’ thousands of humans over the last human century and out of that vast number only a small fraction have faced their death. We attempt to find the strongest in every category and once they have been located, we take them and reuse them.” “God!” exclaimed Marion mortified at his unemotional words. “Reuse them! They are living breathing people, not some inanimate objects at your disposal.” Pausing for a moment to catch her breath, Marion continued. “How do you find the same people. What if they moved across the country. Do you find a replacement?” “No Miss Stevenson, we use a tracking device which is built into our quest ships.” The tall Zordon witnessed a wave of confusion cross Marion and Allison’s face. “Let me explain further. We send out quest ships which are small fast moving crafts with ten times the maneuverability that our larger ships possess. We send them out every ten years just prior to the beginning of our ten year breeding cycle. We mechanically grow the majority of babies in this ship by implanting human eggs fertilized by our own species in human females, then retrieve them a short time later for further growth in our incubatorium. In hopes of increasing our success rate and speeding up our agenda, we also retrieve male sperm from humans and inject them into the eggs of our female species. Unfortunately, we have not been able to find the correct DNA sequence in enough humans to bring about lasting affects to consider our mission a success. There is a gene missing in our species which when combined with most human genetics sends out an agent transmitting a pathogen from one organism to another which eventually disables major organs within the body causing gradual death. We hoped to rectify the mutation of cells by breeding humans directly with our own species. Those are the group of Zordons Mr. Wilcox had mentioned earlier. They are very human-like in appearance, some more so than others. We were fortunate enough to have integrated them successfully into your cultures two of your decades ago.” “You what?” shrieked Marion. You planted your monsters on our Earth? Did you think you would get away with it?”

“We did get away with it Miss Stevenson. If it were not for our missing gene, we would have succeeded beyond our greatest expectations. Unfortunately, by their fortieth year, their bodies began dying. Our quest ships were deployed to pickup our casualties, tracking them down with their sensors.” Allison interjected. The incredible story which was unfolding before her ravished her nerves leaving her with an excruciatingly painful throb in her head. “You’ve mentioned this tracking thing and…and something about sensors. What are you talking about?” The Zordon turned to the room’s entry door and nodded his head at a small alien standing nearby. The small alien scurried out through the door in response to an order that had been given by the tall Zordon. Marion and Allison waited in silence wondering what was about to take place. Less than five minutes ed when the door opened and in came two small aliens on either side of a wheeled table, pushing it in their direction. As they came closer, Marion and Allison froze in shock as the color waned from their faces. Lifelessly stretched out above the table was the body of Jerry Wilcox. “Oh my God!” shouted Marion. “What have you done to him?” Allison burst at the seams unable to hold onto her sanity. She threw her fists at the glass and pounded with every ounce of strength in her. The words ‘what have you done to him’ spilled forth repeatedly as her knuckles burned with pain. She couldn’t stop herself from lashing out until blood from her injured hands trickled down the glass wall. She stopped and stared at her injured hands momentarily before falling to her knees. The tall Zordon calmly and unemotionally requested Marion’s attention. He extended her a personal invitation to be the first human to witness one of their miraculous achievements. Turing to the small aliens, he telepathically transmitted his wishes. Immediately things began to happen. One small Zordon rolled up a portable machine comprised of knobs and buttons but very little else in moving parts. The second small Zordon approached toting a tiny metal case which he handed to his obvious leader. The wheeled table was positioned near the two glass vessels only two feet from where the two ladies stood and waited in sheer panic. “Now Miss Stevenson and Miss Tate, let me show you some of our advanced

capabilities.” He removed a long transparent hose from the machine and eased it’s end into Jerry’s unsuspecting mouth. Marion threw her hands over her mouth holding back the nausea. She watched as the hose was pushed deeper and deeper down into his throat until it rested inside his chest cavity. Allison had fallen into a daze unable to speak or scream. Marion’s eyes became glossy as a film of moisture draped itself over her vision. She watched as the tall Zordon extended another hose from the machine which was equipped with a small silver object. She did not recognize it’s function until the Zordon began his instruction. “You see Miss Stevenson, in order for us to locate and retrieve our human specimens every ten years it is necessary for us to implant a sensing device such as this one.” He removed a tiny round object from the metal container and raised it for her to see. She had seen an object similar to this one back on Earth in medical documentaries. It took on the appearance of a pacemaker but much smaller. The Zordon placed the small object back into it’s container before continuing. “Now, first we must create a hole large enough to implant the sensor.” He placed the small silver end of the second hose onto Jerry’s head which had been shaven slightly behind his right ear. The tall Zordon nodded his head and immediately the small Zordon in charge of the machine manipulated the controls. Allison fainted when the sound of a drill breaking through bone filtered into her ears. Marion couldn’t watch any more of the despicable and gruesome operation being performed on their behalf. She buried her head into her hands and cried. “Now now Miss Stevenson, do not disappoint me. Your boldness and courage placed you in my favor. I need humans like you. Please watch and let me surprise you, will you?” Marion slowly withdrew her hands from her face, squinting away the tears so that she could see. The Zordon waited patiently for Marion to pull herself together. When he was certain of having regained her full attention he continued to drill into Jerry’s skull. Several times he placed his long skinny fingers over the area surrounding the wound and incredibly the bleeding vanished. He finally handed the drill to the other small alien who in turn returned the hose back to it’s resting spot on the machine. The Melatronic Activator provides a deep brain stimulation. The sensor, once implanted into the human or hybrid’s brain acts as an electrode that

emits constant electric thrusts of energy. They are harmless and unnoticeable to the human but are effective enough for our scanners to pick up and pinpoint their location from any distance.” He carefully placed the sensor inside the newly drilled hole and without any further commentary, laid his fingers over the entire wound and watched as it miraculously closed up, momentarily hosting a scab, then in a fleeting moment the scab disappeared leaving nothing but a faint scar which would eventually be hidden away beneath his hair. “I….I…I don’t understand,” stuttered Marion amazed at the miracle she had just been witness to. “It’s not important that you understand how, Miss Stevenson. What is important is the fact that it is possible. We have the power to heal and we have used this power many many times in order to bring health back to the humans we have used after they have fallen ill. You see, they are of no use to us if they become victims of disease. We need each other Miss Stevenson. We have examined you physically and you have the genetic piece of the puzzle that we are missing.” Aghast and overwhelmed with disbelief, Marion became breathless She felt herself gasping for air in order to keep her lungs filled with air and her head free of the distorting mist that attempted to creep over her mind and sanity. “You what?” she stammered nervously. “You did what? When?” The tall Zordon simply stated as fact that she had been a welcome guest on board their breeding ship only a week ago. And as if to stick the knife deeper into her back, he grinned and said, “yes Miss Stevenson, do you not being escorted aboard by our mutual friend, Bernard Watkins?” As the name became reality, Marion felt her knees weaken and the weight of her body drew her down to the floor. A ton of bricks had just been loaded onto her shoulders. “What are you talking about,” whispered Marion. “I’ve never been here before, I’d it if I had been.” “Oh really?” replied the Zordon. “Then how do you for the missing time in your life one day last week. Did you not visit Bernard Watkins at his home near Chicago?”

Marion could not speak, she ed that day and could not explain it. Now it was clear. Too clear. “The timing of your visit was perfect Miss Stevenson. Bernard Watkins was in his breeding cycle and his time was running out, just like all of the others who’s lives could no longer resist the vector that had contaminated their organs. He was only days away from his fortieth year and for all intense purposes, he should have expired like the thousands of others that were transported to Earth two decades ago as our first trial group.” “What do you mean by ‘should have expired’? What does that mean exactly? I went back out there, Allison and I. His neighbor informed us that the coroner picked up his body. He was carried out on a stretcher. He WAS dead!” exclaimed Marion all flustered and agitated. “Yes, that is what we originally assumed when our messengers returned him. He had been stored away with the others, in line for a thorough examination. As we were preparing his body, we were pleasantly surprised to see signs of life returning to his form. It was a victorious moment for us. He had found the key to survival and that key led us to YOU, Miss Stevenson.” “What the hell are you talking about? How could I have something to do with his surviving?” Marion began to pull herself up into a standing position. She couldn’t help but feel a bit curious about this new development. “While on board last week, you were placed in the breeding chamber with Bernard Watkins. Being an advanced hybrid he was equipped with the essential breeding organs required for sexual intercourse. I am pleased to say that you were very cooperative in the mating act Miss Stevenson.” Marion flushed at his words. She could not recall any of it. Her mind was a total blank. “Anyway Miss Stevenson while you were in our company we took the liberty of performing a minor biopsy from several areas in your brain. We removed tissue and transplanted it into Bernard Watkins’ neurological brain stem which is where the vector begins it’s damage. It begins disabling the body’s organs by preventing the neurological brain waves to send out and carry messages out to the organs. For instance, the disabled brain can no longer tell the heart to keep pumping, so it stops. It is quite simple if you think about it. Just when we

thought all was lost, Bernard Watkins came through. After having expired, his cells began rejuvenating themselves. Your tissue was not rejected like all the others. Cell rejection had become a growing concern all these years. We managed to move closer to a solution when we began inserting artificial genes into the sick bacteria. We succeeded in bringing out a more human-like species but it produced a much shorter life-span, only forty years as opposed to our normal 120 Earth years. Now Miss Stevenson, thanks to you, we have a way of reaching the goal of our agenda, very very soon.” Marion knew exactly what that meant. She was about to become their new guinea pig. The thought of what was to become of her sent cold chills down her spine. She rested her back up against the smooth cool glass and slowly her body slid down until it slumped weakly to the floor.

CHAPTER 22

After having been forced to look on as the Zordon performed his hideous operation on Jerry, Marion and Allison were taken to another location on an upper deck. The room appeared more spacious than the last one they had been held in. It comfortably managed to accommodate four cots and four wall benches and enough room to walk about in. The only thing that was missing was Jerry. “Oh crap,” grumbled Marion dropping herself on one of the cots. “I’m so hungry and tired, I can’t stand it Al.” “I know what you mean Marion. They don’t have to kill us. We’re going to starve to death at this rate.” Allison placed her hands around the back of her neck as she slowly rolled her head in a circular motion trying to alleviate the stress that callously pinched her nerves. Marion settled herself comfortably on the cot flat on her back allowing herself a clear view of the ceiling above her. It was not at all what she had expected. Instead of the normal ventilation grate hovering over their heads, she was staring out at the stars. Within the ceiling was a large round bubble extending outwards from the craft. It was the most beautiful sight that she had ever seen. Even from her livingroom window when she stared up into a clear sky, the panoramic view was not nearly as awesome as what she was seeing at that very moment. “Look Al; look up above you,” Marion expounded with urgency in her voice. She watched Allison act on her request and saw a calmness penetrate her shattered nerves. Allison moved to the cot closest to Marion and followed her friend’s lead. She felt the tingling needle-like pains rushing through every inch of her body as she laid unmoving on the small cot. The last thing she saw was a billion bright stars flickering above her before her eyes drifted into darkness. Marion turned to Allison to speak, but when she saw her abandoned state, she too closed her eyes and put reality on hold.

When Allison finally awoke, her first instinct was to look at her watch to see what time it was. As she glanced down at her wrist, she noticed for the first time that her watch was no longer there. After a short term of speculation, Allison shrugged it off as having lost it somewhere in the ventilation ducts. She paced around the room hoping Marion would awake sometime soon. Having company would make her feel more at ease. She stopped short only a few feet from the door when she realized that the door was sitting wide open. Her heart picked up it’s pace as a wave of excitement flowed through her veins. She scurried over to Marion’s cot and frantically began nudging her friend’s resting body. “Marion! Heh Marion, wake up, hurry!” she pleaded. She stepped back when she heard Marion’s voice grumbling the words, “I’m too tired, I’m not coming into work today.” Marion then rolled over onto her side and continued to sleep. “Come on Marion, you’ve got to get up. Something’s happened.” This time Allison refused to back off. She nudged Marion again, this time jabbing her finger tips into her ribcage. Marion bolted up into a sitting position momentarily confused. As she sat in silence while Allison waited, her recollection of recent events began to surface. “Oh shit!” Marion sneered, outraged at their situation. “There’s got to be a way out of here Al. We can’t just give in to this crap, I won’t……..” As she was vigorously letting off steam, her eyes followed Allison’s pointing finger which led to the door. The words broke off in mid stream as she focused on the outer corridor. “Look Marion, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. They’ve gone and left the door open. They’re not that bright after all, are they?” She headed for the door calling out to Marion. “Come on Marion, let’s get out of here before they come back.” Marion ejected herself up from the cot ready to follow, but suddenly a light flashed in her head. “No!” she cried out in a panic. “Stop Allison, don’t go through that……” Before she could finish her thought, Allison continued on, ignoring the words of warning. As she met head on with the wide open space, Allison was greeted with a crackling jolt of high voltage shock waves which tossed her six feet into the room, landing her on the cold metal floor flat on her back. Marion rushed to her side desperately wanting her friend to be all right. Allison cautiously lifted her head feeling an excruciating pain rip across her

forehead. Her vision was blurred and her body twinged throughout with a dull numbness which began fading almost immediately. Marion helped Allison to stand, then ed her weight until she reached one of the cots. Allison sat in a daze blinking away the fuzzy vision, while moaning at her newly acquired aches and pains. “Do me a big favor Marion, will you? Next time I try to take the lead, just knock me out.” Allison hung her head forward and applied pressure to the sides of her head with her two shaking hands. “I don’t understand. How did you know?” Marion placed her hand under Allison’s chin and raising her head slightly, replied; “They’re too intelligent of a race to be so careless. It was too simple.” She looked down at her wrist curious at the time only to discover her watch was also missing. She had no idea how much time had transpired since being abducted from her motel room in Terrace, Arizona. It could be hours or days for that matter. They had been moved several times within the craft and there were a number of times when she found herself waking from a period of sleep not knowing how long it had lasted. One thing was certain, they were starving. It was essential that she get the message across to the Zordons that humans have to be fed occasionally. As if her prayers were heard, movement out in the corridor caught their fading attention. Marion and Allison glared at the door waiting for someone or something to appear. They listened intently at the shuffling of feet which indicated to them that there was more than one body beyond the door. They sat extraordinarily still just waiting…..until it finally happened. A small Zordon moved his abnormally large head slightly beyond the door’s opening, cautiously checking up on the prisoners. Marion flung herself forward moving quickly to the door. Her aggressive movement frightened the small frail alien prompting him to move from sight. “No, come back here, please!” called Marion, her voice cracking up from lack of fluids. Her mouth was uncomfortably dry making it difficult to swallow. “Please come back. We’re starving in here. We need food!” She stopped at the door ready to out. In a last effort to gain the alien’s attention, Marion hollered out, her voice trailing out into the corridor. “If I starve to death I’ll be of no use to you. You need me alive damn it!!” Just as she was about to give up, the small alien reappeared at the door. He stood barely 4 feet tall and his long thin arms

dangled at his sides. Marion couldn’t help but make the observation that if the alien were to extend his curled up fingers downwards, he’d probably be able to touch the floor without having to slump forward. She had no idea what prompted her to make such a senseless and insignificant observation when there were more pressing issues to tend to. Marion took a few deep breaths and waited for her high-strung nerves to settle down before making any further requests. Scaring the frail little creature away would not accomplish anything. She closed her eyes and squeezed them tightly for a few seconds until she was ready to begin. “Please, I don’t know what it is that you’re responsible for here in this spaceship, and… well….I don’t want to be rude or anything…..but…but my friend and I are starving.” She hesitated long enough to search the alien’s face for any hint of understanding. The Zordon’s expression remained constant. She did not detect the slightest flicker of change in his unemotional and blank face. “Well, as I was saying. We, my friend and I…well we need some food. We won’t survive much longer without it. We need water, you know, that liquid stuff that you Zordons depend on. At least that’s what your Zordon leader relayed to us earlier.” Still seeing no change in the alien’s demeanor, Marion cringed in disbelief. “God help us Allison. This little guy isn’t going to be of much help to us. He probably hasn’t understood a single word I’ve said.” Allison found her lucidness dangling on the edge. She began to laugh wildly while throwing her arms up in the air. She couldn’t help herself, the words burst out from her lips. “Why don’t you just ask him straight out; take me to your leader. It works in the Sci-Fi movies.” Marion rolled her eyes at the ridiculous remark. She turned back to the door intending to reopen her one-sided conversation with the alien, but to her surprise he was no longer present. “Huh, maybe he acted on your demand after all,” scoffed Marion overwhelmed with guilt as she observed Allison’s ever increasing frazzled state of mind. She walked sluggishly over to the cot where Allison sat rocking herself back-andforth. Easing herself down gently beside her, Marion threw her arm around Allison’s shoulders in hopes of comforting her. Neither of them knew how much time elapsed before the small alien returned.

This time there were two others in his company. One of them manipulated a switch on the outer corridor wall, Marion assumed he was disarming the electrical current which blocked age through the door. As he remained in place, the second small alien moved forward firmly gripping onto his spray gun pointing it in the ladies’ direction. He was keeping them at bay so that the third Zordon could enter freely, unafraid of being assaulted by the large and stronger humans. When he entered, he was toting a small basketball-size sack, and a long clear hose hanging from his arms. Marion felt a knot forming inside of her stomach. The sight of the objects brought back faded memories of something she had seen recently involving Bernard Watkins, and as she watched the alien set the sack down and connect the hose through an opening in it’s top, it all became clear. “Oh no, no no. I know what you expect me to do with that. No, I’m sorry, it isn’t going to happen, no…..no…..NO!!” Marion’s objections were not taken seriously. The alien reached his long fingers to her face and positioned them above her brow and on her temples. His blank stare calmed the stress induced lines around her eyes and within seconds, Marion no longer had the ability or willpower to struggle. Allison was aware of the alien holding the spray gun deterring her from intervening. When she saw the alien position Marion on one of the wall benches and strap her in, Allison trembled at the thought of being the next in line. The alien lifted Marion’s head towards the dome window straightening the age of ingestion, then with amazing ease began sliding the hose down her throat and into her chest. Once in place, the alien touched the walls of the sack with his flat finger tips until it began throbbing with a low steady hum. Liquid began moving through the hose and as it entered Marion’s body, there was no apparent sign of physical distress. “Oh God,” groaned Allison. “Why can’t I just drop dead before it’s my turn?” She flung herself face down onto the cot overcome with nausea. Marion remained in a lethargic state of mind well after her ordeal had ended. She sat immobile on a cot just staring at the dull gray wall while Allison was subjected to the same disgusting procedure. By the time both women snapped out of their daze, the aliens had all vacated the premises leaving nothing behind. Marion and Allison stared at each other completely speechless, yet somehow they knew they were feeling the same. Marion touched her throat with her hand giving it a gentle rub. It was feeling a

bit raw and stiff. At first she did not understand the purpose of the alien’s horrid infliction, but as she stood up and pressed her hands against her stomach, it all became quite clear. She was no longer hungry, nor was her mouth dry and craving liquids. “Well Allison, I guess I was wrong about that little guy. He knew what I was saying. Although I can’t say I enjoyed my meal and how it was served.” As she spoke, Marion detected a flicker of light in Allison’s eyes. “Oh Marion,” cried Allison. “The fact that we’re not starving any longer doesn’t change this predicament that we’re in. We’re still prisoners on this spaceship and there’s no way off.” “What happened to all those great sayings of yours Al. Don’t you this one. What goes up must come down. These aliens have the ability to move between this ship and Earth at their will. We just have to figure out how they do it.” “Oh yah right,” grumbled Allison. “We’ll just beam ourselves back down to Earth and wave goodbye to the Zordons. Let’s not forget to thank them for their hospitality while we’re at it.” “Oh come on Al. I know it looks hopeless but we have to try. You know, if this big Zordon guy really wants my genes as badly as I think he does, he’s not going to want me annihilated.” Marion didn’t really believe what she just said but she hoped it would help. “Thanks a lot dear friend. That takes care of your safety, but what about mine?” Allison found it impossible to muster up any amount of optimism. “Don’t worry Allison, I’ll stick to you like glue. They’ll have to want both of us.” At that moment their attention was abruptly drawn to the door when a familiar body materialized. When Marion’s eyes locked onto his, she felt an unexplainable connection draw her to him. They faced each other head on, neither of them initiating conversation. Allison jumped in taking the initiative to break the silence. “Okay, I know who you are. You’re a big part of this…..this…..whatever it is that’s going on around here, aren’t you?” She folded her arms in front of her chest and demanded answers. Unfortunately, the man would not speak.

Marion felt herself relax in his presence, she couldn’t explain it. If anything she should be angered at his unexpected arrival. After all she thought, it was he who brought her aboard the alien’s ship. Not just once, but twice. At that very thought, she wondered if perhaps there was another time. Whatever possessed her to think that? She shrugged the thought off and reverted her attention back to the matter at hand. “Are you Bernard Watkins?” She waited for an answer but it didn’t come. “One of those tall alien’s insinuated that you were one of them. Are you?” Again Marion waited for a reply and still there was nothing but silence. Becoming increasingly frustrated at his stubbornness, Marion’s voice rose an octave and became much louder. “Look Bernard, I know you can talk. the incident at your home back in Chicago? You were so….so…kind and….” Her voice began to soften as she recalled how gentle and caring the man was while tending to her wounds. As her voice mellowed out while retelling the s of that day, Marion swore she saw a change in his rigidness. “You can’t be one of them, you’re not like them Bernard. Please tell me you’re not one of them.” Bernard Watkins’ gaze averted to his rear. Someone was coming. He took one last look at Marion before heading down the corridor. Marion watched as he disappeared from sight. “He’s one of them Marion. He’s one of the successful hybrids, he has to be,” remarked Allison. “No Allison, I can’t believe that. He’s identical to the picture I saw of him. Interspecies breeding wouldn’t produce that result.” Marion inched her way across the room nodding her head as she stared at the floor. “Well then, he must have been cloned. I mean look at what these creatures are capable of. This is a breeding ship. They’re making babies and growing them in fish tanks of all things. My God Marion, what else could he be?” “No Allison. You don’t know him like I do,” retorted Marion. “I guess I don’t. You’re the one who……you know…the sex thing with him.” Allison hoped to express herself without offending Marion. “No, it’s not that. There’s more to it. I saw him in that room when the three of us were making our escape through the ventilation system. ? He was

talking to that guy in the military uniform. He didn’t talk like any alien.” “So why then would that big Zordon who did the number on poor Jerry try to make us believe he was one of their more successful experiments?” “Oh, I don’t know Al. I don’t know anything and it’s driving me crazy. And poor Jerry. What on Earth has happened to him? Will we ever see him again?” Marion raised her hand, and in view of Allison crossed her fingers for luck as she had done on many occasions. In turn, Allison crossed hers, thinking it couldn’t hurt. As they walked away from the door heading back to their cots, a sudden chill washed over them stopping them in their tracks. From behind them a deep hoarse voice which they had only heard once before echoed between the walls. “Well, well ladies. I hope you’re comfortable. If not, it won’t be much longer. The mother ship is on it’s way.”

CHAPTER 23

The words coming from the door were cold and overbearing. Marion spun herself around determined to meet the newcomer head on. She was not surprised to see the man in the military uniform glaring at her exposing an evil grin. “Who are you?” she asked boldly as she straightened her posture. “What do you want with us?” “You’ll find out soon enough like everyone else,” he sneered with absolute confidence. “You’re very lucky to be here.” “What do you mean by lucky?” snapped Marion, “and who the hell are you and what business do you have with these aliens?” She was growing more and more perturbed. There were so many questions and no one offered any answers. “The Zordons aren’t so bad. Actually, they’re here on a mission of mercy so to speak.” “Oh really,” replied Marion. “A mission of mercy. How do you figure that?” “They’re just trying to improve their race, make them more like us. It’s not like they’ve come to invade and destroy the Earth. As a matter of fact, their advanced technology and scientific knowledge has made it possible for them to cure many humans of cancerous diseases and even slow down the aging process in our species. How can you not like them?” The man raised his brow on conclusion of his argument on behalf of the aliens. “Do you really believe that snatching humans up into their spacecraft against their wills and performing examinations and experiments on them is friendly behavior? I don’t get it. They use mind control on their victims at their will forcing them to take part in….in….No! I won’t believe for one second that these aliens are to be praised. Look at us; they’re keeping us here against our will and Jerry, poor Jerry. Who knows what has become of him.” The idea that the Zordon’s conduct was acceptable was beyond her comprehension. “How do YOU fit into all this?” she asked in a firm demanding voice.

“Me? Let’s just say I see the bigger picture. I their final agenda.” “Agenda!” screamed Allison interjecting. “Agenda! I’ve heard that word come up so many times already. What is their agenda? I mean, what is the bottom line here? Once they find the missing gene, which they apparently have,” she paused to look at Marion before continuing. “What then? Do they pack up their suitcases and move on?” “Yah, something like that,” answered the man in military garb. “Something like that?” queried Marion not at all convinced at the simplicity of the plans. Ensuring the survival of an entire species was a lot more complicated than that. “Well ladies, I just dropped in to see how you were doing. I’ve got a job to get back to. Washington needs me.” As he turned to leave, Marion called out one last question. “Who the hell are you anyway?” Before disappearing from sight he stopped long enough to answer. “General Bergoff of the, DD. Oh, and take my advice. Stay away from that Bernard Watkins guy. That alien’s a bit strange if you know what I mean.” He grinned pointing his finger at his head. Marion’s head was spinning. What she had just learned from General Bergoff only served to confuse her more. “Why would a general from the Defense Department be involved with aliens? I don’t get it,” she mused, whispering to herself. She leaned up against the wall almost forgetting Allison’s presence. “I’ve got bad vibes about him,” stated Allison overwrought with fear. “I don’t know about you, but that guy’s visit didn’t make me feel better about all this. Somehow I get the feeling things are a lot worse.” “Yah Al, I have the same horrible feeling. What are we going to do?” retorted Marion as she stared glossy-eyed through the dome above her. “You know Al, those aliens are really frail looking. Have you noticed that?” She waited for Allison’s acknowledgment. “Yah, the only big thing about them is their head. A good gust of wind would

probably blow them away.” As if a flicker of hope emerged, Marion threw her body forward with a renewed burst of energy. “That’s it Al! That’s their weakness. We can easily over-power them physically.” “Yah but they have the advantage of mind control. They just have to look at us and we lose control of our bodies.” Allison shook her head and with a sharp thrust, kicked out at the cot nearest to her reach sending it crashing up against the wall. “Allison, it’s not as hopeless as you think. We just have to look away and divert our eyes away from their sight at all times. They won’t be able to control us.” “What about those nice little spray guns they’ve been carrying lately. They’ll knock us out before we even have a chance to overpower them,” stated Allison. “Not necessarily, not if we time it just right. It should be easy to catch them off guard. We’ll knock them off balance in more ways than one,” scoffed Marion. She began pacing around the room racking her brain for a plan. She finally realized that a well-organized plan was not feasible and that their success depended on their ability to think and act on the spur of any given moment. If only they had a , someone inside who was familiar with the craft and it’s working functions. That in itself would take care of half the battle. By the time they had discussed their options on how to proceed, both Marion and Allison found they were too exhausted to think any further. Hunger pangs were beginning to escalate again and the thought of how they had recently been satisfied prompted them to ignore them as best as they could. When the issue could no longer be avoided or ignored, they resigned themselves to sleep it off hoping the hollowness would eventually subside. Several hours ed when Marion and Allison found themselves jolted awake by pokes and prods to the shoulder blades. When they opened their eyes they were greeted by three little Zordons, two of them holding spray guns. They had become extremely cautious ever since their prisoners attempted their first escape. They knew better now than to take any unnecessary chances. Motioning their hands in the direction of the door, the aliens urged the ladies to move. Marion moved her lips close to Allison’s ear before they had a chance to become

separated. “ Al, don’t look directly at their faces when in their company. I don’t think these guys are capable of gaining control over us, that’s why they’re always equipped with weapons. It’s the tall guys I’m worried about. They seem to do all the talking and order giving around here.” As before, after having walked through several dim corridors, Marion and Allison found themselves inside another large room equipped with large rotating rings hovering and spinning above a dark circular platform. It appeared that each deck of the craft came equipped with the same transporting device. Without any resistance, Marion and Allison stepped onto the platform, secretly praying to themselves that their next stop was Earth. Allison closed her eyes and held her breath waiting for the bright flash of light to scoop them up. Marion on the other hand scanned the room carefully, watching the movement of several aliens as they performed their assigned tasks. She strained her eyes in the direction of an exceptionally large instrument housing a colorful array of lights. She watched as the alien attending to the machine manipulated the controls. As he pulled down a lever, the large iron rings above Marion’s head began spinning faster and faster. She could only look for a moment before the rotating motion caused dizziness to set in. The alien reached up to a keyboard mechanism where he quickly and without hesitation, systematically punched the keys down as if entering a combination. At that instant, the loud familiar drone grew in intensity creating the vibration beneath their feet. The alien turned and inspected the surroundings behind him before proceeding with the final step. When he was certain everything was in place, he turned his attention back to the instrument where he placed the palm of his hand over a red button and pushed down. The light illuminating the room fluctuated as the crackling of electricity filled the air. A bright flash of light followed the power surge and poof! Marion and Allison were gone.

CHAPTER 24

Within seconds, two human forms materialized inside another unfamiliar room. Glancing around, the dim lit and dull gray surroundings told them they were still aboard the spacecraft. Standing before them was a tall Zordon wearing a long loose-fitting robe, his stern facade immediately set him apart from the other tall Zordon who had performed the operation on Jerry. He stood with perfect posture with his arms resting behind him exposing an air of utmost authority. He did not speak, instead he attempted to obtain their undivided attention by clearing his throat. After having repeated his beckoning procedure several times and failed, he became noticeably angered at the ladies’ non-attentive behavior. Marion stood looking at Allison hoping and praying that her friend would not give into resistance and move her eyes in the Zordon’s direction. Becoming embroiled in his mind control game would prevent them from having any chance at making a run for it. Marion locked her eyes on Allison’s hoping to keep her distracted. The Zordon became impatient. He flung his arms around to his front and with incredible force transmitted his demands inside the minds of his captives. “Look at me!” beckoned the words sharply. He waited momentarily then repeated his demand. “Look at me NOW!” shouted the impatient and ired alien. The words echoed sharply inside their minds. Allison threw her hands over her ears applying pressure to the piercing pain. Marion closed her eyes and squeezed them tightly in her futile attempt to muffle out the loud sharp words. The Zordon glared at the two stubborn humans realizing that mind control could no longer be depended upon. They were strong-willed and determined making it necessary for him to take other measures. “So Miss Stevenson and Miss Tate, I finally have the pleasure of meeting the two of you. Welcome aboard the Cyborcom. I am Borg, the captain of this ship. I trust you have been taken care of?” The Zordon named Borg tried fervently to be polite but it proved unsuccessful. The two ladies refused to speak.

“Miss Stevenson and Miss Tate,” he stated sharply. “If you do not cooperate with me I am afraid that I may have to take more drastic measures.” “Oh really?” replied Marion while moving her glance to the floor by her feet. “What more could you do to us. You’ve probably already destroyed our friend Jerry Wilcox and you’ve neglected to provide us with food and water, and…” She stopped suddenly as Borg interjected. “What? I was informed by our workers that they had istered to your hunger needs,” replied the Zordon. “Oh really?” answered Marion touching her stomach with her hand. Do you call connecting a hose to us as if we were some kind of machine as istering to our hunger? You obviously haven’t learned much in all these years.” She heard the sarcasm flow from her lips and in fear of making things worse, she regained her silence by biting down on her bottom lip. “I apologize for the inconvenience Miss Stevenson. However, if you are to survive in our world you will need to adjust. Everything your body requires to function is obtained from our Hydron Sack.” “Your world!” scoffed Marion. Her anger escalated at his remark. She was overcome with the urge to turn and face this creature who dominated her and to grab his weak and puny body and destroy it. Resisting the temptation, she held back only to wait for a more opportune time. Allison could see the frustration flaring up in Marion’s trembling body. In hopes of quelling the fire, she grabbed onto Marion’s hands and held on tightly for . Ignoring Marion’s obvious disapproval, Borg assumed control of the meeting. “Now ladies, as I was saying before being interrupted, if you hope to survive in our surroundings, you will have to obey our ways. When our Mother Ship arrives, you will be transported aboard. If you cooperate with us you will find we can be very compatible and easy to get along with. However, we cannot and will not tolerate inappropriate behavior.” “Inappropriate behavior? This isn’t about going to school. These are our lives we’re talking about here. You can’t just take us away from our lives and expect us to go along with it,” screamed Marion at the alien who had begun pacing

about the room. “Perhaps you should not have been interfering with matters that did not concern you. We have much work to do if we are to complete and meet our agenda. With you and your friends snooping around and digging up information you would soon be in a position to expose our existence. That in itself would be extremely detrimental to our mission and also to you humans. We would have to deploy our weapons in self-defense if faced with an attack. And I warn you, we have the capability to wipe out large numbers of your population with a single hit from our nuclearchromatic laser. The results are equal to that of your atomic bombs.” Borg paused long enough to inspect Marion’s reaction. He was pleased to see her strong physical form falter after hearing his words of warning. For the first time ever, Borg found himself unable to restrain himself from forming a devious grin. “Well ladies? Would you like to be responsible for creating a war of insurmountable magnitude?” Allison felt Marion’s hands pull away. Acting quickly, Allison applied a firmer grip to Marion’s hands preventing them from slipping away. Marion was very vulnerable and could easily forget the alien’s mind control abilities; it was up to her to prevent Marion from facing Borg with an outburst of anger. “No Marion,” whispered Allison as she squeezed her friend’s hands. “Don’t slip up now. Don’t let him get under your skin, don’t you see what he’s trying to do? He wants you to face him.” Marion took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. As she gained control of her anger her mind began to focus more clearly on their plans to escape. She flashed Allison a short smile after forming the word ‘thanks’ on her lips. Straightening her posture with her feet planted firmly on the floor, Marion spoke with a steady voice. “Why must we board your Mother Ship? The other Zordon, the one who performed the operation on our friend Jerry told me I have something, a missing gene I believe he said which was needed to more fully develop your new race. If that’s true, then why am I not required to stay aboard the Cyborcom?” Borg stood in silence wondering how much information to dispense. He could not expose them to the entire truth, that was for certain. Looking at Marion’s growing impatience, he finally said; “we need teachers who are strong-willed

and determined to maintain life. We need fighters, fighters like you Miss Stevenson and Miss Tate. You have already proven your determination to us when you attempted to escape. We have an entire species aboard the Cyborcom who know nothing of strength.” “You’re joking, right?” scoffed Marion. “We can’t teach that. It would take us forever.” “We don’t have forever Miss Stevenson. We will go into your mind and extract the knowledge within a few short days,” replied Borg unemotionally. “And then what happens,” sneered Allison. “Do we get to go home and pretend nothing happened?” “Possibly Miss Tate, for when we’ve completed the mind scan, your mind will be so ravaged that it will be incapable of any further thought processing, let alone having any memory to trouble you.” At that savage remark, Allison ripped her hands away from Marion’s and thoughtlessly flung herself forward in the Zordon’s direction. As luck would have it, the alien was caught off guard by Allison’s unpredictable and hasty reaction and helplessly found himself crashing to the floor under Allison’s solid mass. As the two ladies ran to the door they heard bits and pieces of distress calls filtering through their thoughts. Borg was summoning his workers for help. As Marion and Allison approached the door, it suddenly flashed open and two small aliens were making their appearance with spray guns in hand. Adrenaline was racing through their veins and their hearts pounded erratically with fear as they both bounded through the door. The aliens were not prepared to greet the unrestrained humans head on and without warning. Marion and Allison rammed their bone-structured arms against the Zordon’s frail soft bodies sending them soaring against the corridor walls. Neither of the ladies stopped running to inspect the damages. As they made their way down a winding corridor, their ears suddenly became aware of a loud high-pitched siren which echoed throughout the corridors. As they turned another corner they were faced with several worker aliens moving as quickly as their short kneeless legs could carry them coming straight for them with spray guns in hand. Screeching to a halt, Marion and Allison spun themselves around and began running laboriously back down the previous

corridor until it branched off in the opposite direction. Their ears were throbbing with severe pain which began interfering with their clear vision. “Allison,” exclaimed Marion as she was gasping for air. “We’ve got to find the transporting room. That’s the only way we’re going to get off this ship.” “What good will it do? We don’t know how to operate the damn machine,” grumbled Allison also out of breath and gasping for air. “Let’s worry about that when we get there, shall we?” answered Marion. As they approached a door, both ladies stopped, hesitating only long enough to slam the control button on the wall to open the door. Once it opened, Marion instructed Allison to remain clear of the door as she herself peered her head around the corner to scan the room. It was not the transporting room. Continuing their trek down the corridor they came upon two other rooms, neither of them the correct one. As they moved on, their search was again interrupted by oncoming aliens. With nowhere else to go, they changed direction both knowing their luck was running out. Muffled within the loud ear-piercing siren, the clamor of approaching aliens could be detected. Slowing down their pace they were preparing for the worse. As they came upon the first door they opened and inspected, they were taken off guard when the door flashed open and a voice beckoned to them to ‘hurry, get in here, fast!’. Marion and Allison jumped into the room which was no longer dimly lit. It was completely dark. They grabbed onto each other to prevent themselves from becoming separated. They had no idea who was responsible for the quick shelter, it was too dark to see anyone clearly. “Come on Marion, stay close behind and follow me,” ordered a voice from within the darkness. Marion’s heart skipped a bit on hearing the familiar voice. “What are you doing here? Is this a trick to win over the big guy in charge?” scoffed Marion coldly. “Shut up Miss Stevenson and follow me, unless you have a better plan. If so, don’t let me stop you,” answered the voice. Allison strained her eyes trying to get a look at the man who was now in charge. She was leery just as Marion was, wondering who could possibly want to help

them to escape. A shuffling at the door indicated the aliens were onto them. It was difficult for them to move quickly in the dark allowing the three escapees to maintain their distance. “How are we going to get out of here?” whispered Marion. “Quiet, just follow me,” came a reply. As they approached the far wall, Marion and Allison were instructed to crouch down low so they would not bang their heads while stepping into some sort of steel compartment. By the time all three bodies were safely inside and the door closed, the aliens had closed in. A dozen other workers arrived carrying small sticks which emitted a green fluorescent glow. They busied themselves at the controls which were housed inside s embedded in the wall directly above the compartment where the three bodies sat quietly and frozen hoping to elude the enemy. Within minutes the lights were successfully restored creating a frantic search of the premises by the aliens. They were puzzled to find nothing. They could only assume that the escapees had somehow deluded them in the darkness while they were busily restoring power to the lights. Scurrying out from the room two at a time, the aliens continued their search throughout the rest of the ship. Pressed snugly up against her rescuer’s warm body, Marion couldn’t help but notice the smell of his skin. It was still as she ed it to be, very masculine and musky. She couldn’t help herself; she found herself attracted to this man. Her stomach fluttered as she felt the warmth of his breath brush up against the nape of her neck each time he exhaled. God, she thought how ridiculous her thoughts were. She didn’t even know if she could trust this…… what was he? She had no idea. One thing was certain; he wasn’t human. That had been confirmed on several different occasions. “Hello Miss Stevenson,” whispered the man beside her. “Are you still with us? We need to work fast, we’re running out of time.” Given the go ahead to move out from the cramped confines of the compartment, Marion and Allison stretched out the stiffness that had settled into their muscles. Stepping back aghast at what they were seeing, the ladies were beginning to fear that they had made a mistake in trusting this man. He was moving towards them holding out a long narrow utensil with miniature prongs at one end.

“I have to extract something from both of you. We can’t go any further until I do.” He moved closer to Marion and suggested she go first. “Oh no you don’t buddy. You’re not going to touch me with those things. I’ve had enough of your weird examinations to last me a lifetime.” Marion backed up until she ran into a wall. “You don’t understand Marion. I’m not going to hurt you. I need to remove the sensor that’s in your ear canal. It’s….” “There’s no sensor in my ear or anywhere else. I would have been aware of it if your relatives placed one in me. So please, take that thing and……” “Marion,” prodded the man with urgency. “You’ve got to trust me on this. The night they abducted you and Allison from your home and impregnated the two of you is when they placed the sensors in your ear canal. It was put there so they could track you down later on and remove the fertilized eggs to…….” He wasn’t able to finish before Marion turned to look at Allison who was standing with her mouth ajar unable to speak. “Allison, do you that morning? We both woke up feeling awful. It was as if our bodies had gone through some vigorous workout. God, I had disgusting dreams about being……” She could see by the look on Allison’s face that she too went through the same terrible ordeal. “My God,” Marion muttered. “It wasn’t a dream after all. It really happened.” “I’m really sorry Marion but we’ve got to remove them NOW! I’ve sabotaged the sensor controls up on the flight deck but it’s only a matter of time before they have it repaired and working, and when that happens, there won’t be any way of escaping. They’ll find you no matter where you are.” Allison took a deep breath and clenched her fists tightly together gathering up her nerves. “Go ahead, I’ll go first, I’m ready.” She was instructed to lie down on a work table turning her head slightly towards the dim light. He moved the long utensil into her ear being exceptionally careful not to make any sudden and unnecessary moves. Just as he reached the ear drum, he placed his fingers on her forehead applying pressure to the temples. As he broke through the newly healed tissue he probed deeper until he came to the small hard device that would soon be sending out signals. He extracted it

carefully then removed his hand from Allison’s head. She itted to having a minor throb in her ear but nothing that she couldn’t deal with. Marion found it incredible the way this man was able to eliminate the pain with just a touch of his hand, but was very thankful for the miracle. She went through the same motions as Allison and before long, her sensor was also removed. The sensors were tossed into a small container and dropped into a disposal chute which ejected it’s contents out into wide open space. “That ought to do it. We can’t lose any more time ladies. We’ve got to get to the transporting room now before the Mother Ship arrives. We have to find a way to prevent it from making it to Earth, or…well….I don’t want to think about what will happen.” Marion was dumbfounded at hearing him speak negatively against his own species. She also felt a wave of fear rush over her at his evasive and foreboding words. “What’s going on here, and what’s with this Mother Ship and Earth nonsense? I thought you were a peaceful race only using humans to physically improve your species in order to expand your life cycles.” “Look Marion, you’ve got it all wrong but I haven’t got time to stand around here to explain it to you. Later, if we get out of here.” He grabbed Marion’s hand and in turn, Marion grabbed Allison’s hand as they ran for the door. Their rescuer peered around the open door and once satisfied that the coast was clear, he led the ladies down one corridor and up another until they came upon a door leading into the transporting room. Unfortunately, there had been guards placed outside the door armed and waiting for the prisoners to arrive. Forming a quick plan, the man leaned close to the ladies ears and whispered his plan of attack. Marion and Allison stepped around the corner of the corridor keeping out of sight while their cohort walked casually down the corridor towards the transporting room. The ladies watched as he stopped directly in front of the guards and staring at each other seemed to be communicating among themselves. He was able to distract them and maneuver them so that their backs were facing the two waiting ladies. That was their cue to sneak quietly down the corridor, each one ramming one of the armed aliens. Caught off guard and falling to the floor, the aliens dropped their weapons giving the prisoners

immediate access to them. Marion handed one to her male cohort with a thanking smile only to witness him pull the trigger. Both aliens slumped face down on the floor, temporarily out of commission. Standing by the door with the spray guns, Marion and the human-like alien charged into the transporting room as soon as the door flashed open. One by one they aimed and fired at the workers until all were knocked out and incapable of stopping them from abandoning ship. The ladies were rushed onto the large dark platform where they were to remain until the controls were set. They stood impatiently, watching as the large rings began to spin, slowly at first then second by second picking up speed. When all was in position and ready to go, a call coming from the controls hit the platform above the loud drone of the machine. “Are you ladies ready?” Marion was about to give the okay when Allison suddenly threw her hand over her open mouth and shouted, “oh my God Marion. What about Jerry? We can’t just leave him here if he’s still alive. He broke a lot of rules to help us with this investigation.” “Yah, not to mention what the Zordon creep did to him.” She jumped from the platform and headed for the control where her cohort stood shaking his head completely confused. “Now what? We’ve got to go Marion. We may never get this chance again.” He saw the overwhelming concern flowing from her eyes and knew immediately that nothing he said would change what she was about to say to him. “It’s our friend Jerry Wilcox. He was brought on board like the rest of us and if he’s still alive, well, we can’t leave without him. Can you help us? Please?” “You have to know this Marion. He has that permanent sensor inside his skull. I can’t remove it. It would have to be done surgically by someone who knows what he’s doing. I mean, if they’ve got the tracking system back on line, they’ll track him all the way back here. If, and I mean if we make it back to Earth, we can still be tracked down long before we find a surgeon to remove the damn thing.” “Damn thing?” exclaimed Marion. “You’re beginning to talk just like a human.” Placing her hand on his shoulder, she begged him to find Jerry.

He handed his spray gun to Allison and insisted that one of them remain near the door and the other near the transporting platform at all times to cover their bases. If anyone entered into the room through the door or from the transporting device, they were advised to shoot immediately without any hesitation. He promised he would return with Jerry if he was still alive. Pressing the red button on the control , the human-like alien raced onto the platform seconds before the bright beam of light whisked him away. The ladies waited and waited growing more and more anxious. They prayed that Jerry would return alive and make it back to Earth as a team just as they had begun. On two occasions, the door to the room opened revealing first two aliens then one. Marion and Allison followed their instructions and knocked their pursuers out cold. When a bright flash of light appeared on the platform, the ladies stepped away from it’s intensity and watched with anticipation as two bodies materialized. “Jerry!” shouted Allison as she ran and threw her arms around his neck. “Are you all right? Did they hurt you?” “We don’t have time for idle chatter ladies. This is it. NOW! Get on the platform, I’ll you in a minute.” The human-like alien raced to the control where he reset the controls. As he called out the ready signal and began to move his hand over the red button, they were all knocked off balance as the ship took a jolt. It was followed by a monstrously loud rumble coming from the engine of a ship of incredible magnitude. It was docking, it had arrived. “Brace yourselves, we’ve got to get the hell out of here. The Mother Ship is here.” He slammed his hand down on the button and plunged forward heading straight for the platform. As he planted his feet securely in place, the door opened and standing inside the doorway was a tall Zordon holding a liquid filled tank containing a fetus. “Miss Stevenson, before you leave perhaps you would like to have a look at your child.” He held the tank so that she would have a clear view of the tiny living form. “This is your child Miss Stevenson, yours and Bernard Watkins’. What kind of a mother would abandon her own child? If you leave now, you will never see your child again.” Marion felt a knot form in her stomach. The idea was disheartening but she

couldn’t help but feel nothing for the child. After all, it was a hybrid, conceived between her and a hybrid from another species. There was no place on Earth for such a child. As a bright crackling burst of light swept down around them, Marion touched Bernard Watkins’ hand, then suddenly the platform was empty.

CHAPTER 25

“Hello? Precinct 23, Officer Martin here,” answered a woman’s soft voice. “Yah, my name’s Dunken. I’m at the 200 block of Madison by the old Henninger’s Storage Facility. You’ve got to get some guys down here right away, lots of them and bring…..” “Excuse me sir, could you slow down a little? What seems to be the problem?” asked the officer on the other end of the phone line. “I don’t have time to explain, just get some men down here now, before it’s too late. We’ve got aliens running around here stealing human bodies.” Dunken had to pause to take a deep breath. As he did so, he could hear the officer on the phone calling over her shoulder to her fellow officers. “Heh guys, we’ve got a live one here. We’ve got a Dunken on the phone telling us we’re being invaded by aliens, and get this; they’re stealing human-beings. Listening to the mockery through the receiver, Dunken realized he had made an error in his method of approach. He hoped he could re-establish his credibility by blowing it off as a bad joke. “Okay, okay, so it wasn’t that great of a joke. I just thought I’d throw the aliens in to add a bit of excitement. But listen, there is something BIG going down at the Henninger’s Facility. You’ve got to believe me,” he pleaded with conviction in his words. “Yah, yah, who did you say you were?” asked officer Martin rolling her eyes assuming he was just another prankster. “The name’s Dunken. I’m a cab driver for the DC Road-Runner Cab Company. You can call them up and it if you want to, but I’m warning you, every minute you waste could cost you big time.” He waited for a reply. “Okay Dunken, we’re going to take your word on this. How many people appear

to be involved in this….this…whatever it is that’s going on over there?” asked the officer still not quite convinced that there was indeed a serious problem at hand. “Oh God, there’s a whole bunch of them. They’re unloading trucks and taking bodies, well something that looks like bodies into the warehouse. I haven’t been able to see inside the building itself so I can’t be certain how many more ali…..people are messing around in there. But I know there are lots of them. You’ve got to send…” Officer Martin interjected. “Okay Dunken, I can’t send an entire police force over there until we know what the problem is. I’ll dispatch a patrol car to the location and they can assess the situation first.” “But..but…listen officer, you don’t understand,” pleaded Dunken becoming increasingly frustrated. “Okay, but be quiet about it. I’ll meet them in the side alley, but tell them to come on foot so they don’t attract any unnecessary attention. Please hurry.” Without any further conversation, the officer hung up the phone. Dunken dropped the receiver so that it dangled at the end of it’s cord in his haste to return to the storage facility. He wanted to be there when the patrol car arrived. Within five short minutes Dunken turned his head as he heard the pounding of feet on pavement coming up behind him. Two officers were running up to his location at the rear of the warehouse. Dunken immediately threw his finger over his lips signally to the officers to be quiet. Crouching close to the ground, Dunken began moving forward in the shadows while the officers followed. As they reached the edge of the building, the officers inched forward until they caught sight of the incredible and disturbing array of activity in progress. Without saying a word, the officers turned to look at Dunken. In a state of amazement, one of the officers spoke in a muffled whisper. “Aliens! It wasn’t a joke. Damn, we’ve got to call in. The Defense Department needs to be involved in this. Jack, you stay here with Dunken. I’ll call it in.” The officer cautiously moved himself backwards until it was safe to stand and run. Dunken and the remaining officer remained in place, their hearts pounding inside of their rigid bodies. Less than ten minutes expired before the other officer returned. Before saying anything he had to take another look at the strange

creatures that were busy at work. “Heh Doug, what’s going on? What did they say when you called in?” asked Jack. Turning his attention back to Dunken and his fellow officer, Doug informed them that their captain was immediately notifying General Bergoff at his home so that he could dispatch the necessary man-power to the scene. The Captain doesn’t want us making any moves until help arrives. He’s going to us here with as many men as he can dig up.” While they spoke, a dozen police cars were being loaded with officers and extra weapons. Before leaving the precinct they were given strict orders NOT to intervene. They were to remain at a distance and only act if and when given the order by the Captain. That plan would remain in effect until General Bergoff arrived with his military units. The small army of police officers waited silently being careful not to attract any attention from the aliens. The Captain had expected military intervention almost immediately but when thirty minutes had ed and no military personnel arrived, it seemed too odd to explain. Their confusion was suddenly put on hold when a tall alien dressed in a skin-tight uniform appeared from inside the warehouse. He stood straight with authority as the dozens of small worker aliens gathered around him. Without a word spoken, the tall alien communicated to the others that trouble was at hand and they would have to prepare to vacate the premises. Not hearing the alien’s words, the officers remained in their places not quite sure what to do or how to proceed. The aliens began moving more quickly. The rear doors of the trucks were closed and the wheeled tables laden with bodies were rolled in single file into the warehouse. Within minutes a car could be seen approaching from the rear alley. It came to a screeching halt near the rear entrance Several men stepped out from the black government vehicle carrying rifles. They scanned the area around them making certain they were alone, then proceeded to open the rear door of the vehicle. A tall well-built man stepped out pulling the collar of his coat up over his ears as if trying to conceal his identity. He stood facing the tall alien, every now and again shaking his head in response to the conversation. Unbeknownst to the officers in the distance, the man was able to communicate with the alien using their mind scan techniques.

Captain Flemming from precinct 23 who was in charge of the operation up to this point strained his eyes as he attempted to identity the human who arrived in the government vehicle. There was something very familiar about the man. It was unsettling to Captain Flemming to think that humans were involved with alien operations on Earth. He instructed two officers to follow him as he circled around the ruins of another building giving him a closer view of the area. They made their way through the rubble until they found a small clearing in which they could take cover in. They watched and waited, hoping the military would soon show up. As the minutes ed by it was becoming more apparent to the Captain that something had gone wrong. Before he was able to construct a plan of action, everyone’s attention was abruptly captured by a bright flash of light exploding in intensity on the ground beyond the doors. The aliens in the vicinity scrambled to the side at the unexpected sight. The man from the government vehicle jumped away caught off guard, no longer worried about shielding his identity. As the flash of light lit up the area around them, Captain Flemming made the recognition. It was General Bergoff. “Oh my lord!,” he muttered to himself. “I don’t believe this. What the hell is he doing here? He was suppose to bring help.” “What did you say Captain?” asked one of the officers on his left. “It’s General Bergoff. That’s him over there with the aliens. He’s part of all of this.” At that moment the light dissipated and standing in plain sight were four bodies, two male and two female. They cringed with disappointment as they looked around and found themselves completely surrounded by aliens and a familiar human; General Bergoff. Turning to the officer, Captain Flemming gave the order. “You’ve got to get some help back here. I can’t leave here now. Someone in charge has to stay here with the rest of our men until backup arrives. Get in touch with General Mitchell, Secretary of State. Tell him that we’ve got extraterrestrial problems here. Make sure you tell him I sent you. We’ve met before. If he tries to tell you that General Bergoff needs to be ed, well….just tell him he’s indisposed and can’t make it.” The officer understood his orders and quickly and carefully worked his way back

through the rubble and back to the police car. He radioed in to his dispatch and urgently requested them to connect him with the Secretary of State at his residence. Once connected, the officer explained as quickly as possible and with as much detail as possible what was unfolding at the Henninger Storage Facility. He ended the conversation with dire urgency. “Please, send us help NOW!” Back at the warehouse, General Bergoff spoke briefly to his two body guards before waving them off then following the aliens and their prisoners across the loading area. Dunken’s stomach began forming knots that tightened uncomfortably as he watched Jerry Wilcox and his associates slowly being led away at alien gun point. ing the promise he had made to Jerry days earlier which was to help him out, Dunken rushed in without giving the consequences any consideration. He ejected himself up and in haste flung himself forward. Running wildly in Jerry’s direction he began the attack shouting at the top of his lungs. “Let them go you monsters. Go back to where you belong!” Dunken’s wild and loud behavior caught the aliens by surprise, and as their attention wavered, Jerry, Bernard and the two ladies were able to ram the surrounding aliens with enough physical force to send them crashing to the ground.. Captain Flemming was not prepared for a surprise attack. This situation was clearly a military matter not a police matter. However, due to the unexpected circumstances he had no choice but to move in and intervene. He picked up his portable radio and immediately gave the order to move in and implement rescue procedures, taking prisoners was of no consequence. As the officers began moving in, some approached on foot while others sped up in their police vehicles. Within seconds a loud rumbling of thunder appeared from out of nowhere. The aliens did not seem affected by it, but the many officers below the growing drone stopped in their tracks and curiously raised their heads to the sky above them. At first they could see nothing, but as the drone’s rumble caused several panes of glass to shatter and the ground below their feet to vibrate, a large dark mass moved in above them. It hovered in place giving the scared and stunned spectators a clear view of the large oval-shaped

craft. Within seconds a beam of light streaked down to the ground from the craft throwing one of the large transport trucks fifty feet into the air. Fear ravaged through the veins of the tiny humans in it’s path. They scrambled in all directions looking for cover. In the confusion, Jerry, Bernard and the ladies managed to break away from the aliens with Dunken in the lead. He helped Jerry lead the others to safety as shots were being fired around them and aliens dropped to the ground. As they found shelter in the vacant building next to the storage facility they became aware of a shrilling alarm that emanated from the warehouse. Bernard Watkins barked out the words, “we’ve got to warm them. The police have to get out of there now, before the place blows.” Looking at Bernard, Marion urgently asked, “what do you mean before it blows?” “The high-pitched alarm. It’s a timed detonating device, it works by sound. The pitch will rise until it hits it’s peak. It’ll destroy that warehouse and everything in and around it when it goes.” Jerry ran out from his cover weaving across the loading area until he reached another building where many of the officers were holding up in. He grabbed a radio from it’s holder on an officer’s belt and frantically began shouting the order to run. “Get as far away from this warehouse as possible NOW! It’s going to blow any minute. NOW damn it! Run!” At hearing the warning, the officers began moving with uninhibited speed. As they ran in panic, the street below their feet suddenly jerked up knocking many of them off their feet throwing them face down to the ground. Debris from surrounding buildings soared through the air crashing and shattering to the street. The explosion was so massive it created an earthquake affect stemming from it’s source and branching out in all directions in a half a mile radius. Sirens echoing from emergency vehicles could be heard off in the distance as Jerry Wilcox ran anxiously in and out of alleyways desperately searching for Marion and Allison. He returned to the place where he had left them only to find an empty foundation where the building once stood. Every structure within blocks of the Henninger Storage Facility had completely disappeared.

CHAPTER 26

Jerry remained steadfast completely perplexed at all the new and complex innovations that had been unfolding before his eyes over the last two weeks of his life. Aliens invading Earth had always been ed off as interesting and exciting reading material. Having it all become a reality, and having been made part of that reality seemed too incredible to comprehend or even to believe at that given moment. Jerry placed his hands on his waist and spinning himself full circle, looked at the desolation around him. He could only pray that Marion and Allison made it out alive. The sounds of sirens permeated through his thoughts forcing his attention back to the over-abundance of activity that was now taking place in the nearby streets. He began to run in the direction of the commotion being especially careful not to trip on fallen debris. As he arrived on James and 2nd he was horrified to see two powerful and destructive forces battling it out. General Mitchell had arrived with several military units fully equipped with tanks and light weight missile launchers and machine guns. One unit was frantically transporting people to safety while many of them screamed hysterically and others ran out into the streets wildly in sheer panic. The city’s bomb alert siren shrieked through the city streets warning people to take cover. Many people ran from their homes curious to see what was going on. Although night had already arrived, the sky above the city flared with bright light as shell bursts exploded around the large dark spacecraft which hovered above them. Ultra-sonic beams originating from the craft caused instant destruction at each point of impact leaving behind scorching fires in it’s wake. Many people overcome with panic ran blindly into the streets meeting head on with flying debris that ripped through the air after being struck by the craft’s beams. One by one people fell to the street, some suffering from injuries and others less fortunate meeting with death. General Mitchell struggled forward keeping up a steady barrage against the intruders. In less than two hours he had lost almost half of his men. He slowly became weary and disheartened realizing that their weapons were no match against the aliens. If they continued on the same path it would only be a matter of time before his units were all destroyed, yet if they

retreated they would be leaving themselves wide open for a brutal and easy attack. Either way, they were dead. Limping around the corner four blocks away from the center of the battlefield, Marion and Allison struggled along holding Bernard Watkins up between them with his arms draped across their shoulders. His leg had been injured in the explosion at the Henninger Storage Facility when a piece of flying debris nipped him in the leg while they were making a run for it. Bernard was aware of the battle that was presently in progress and hurried forward to assist. Marion was able to flag down an army vehicle and request a brief meeting with General Mitchell. “It’s imperative that we speak with him right away. My friend here knows how to disable the spacecraft,” said Marion shouting over the steady flow of firing weapons. “Oh really,” scoffed the Sergeant. “Now, how would your friend know such a thing?” “I don’t think that’s really important right now. The only way you can beat this thing is if you let us talk to General Mitchell. Now, I don’t think you want to be responsible for more unnecessary deaths, do you?” The Sergeant took a deep breath then helped Bernard Watkins aboard the jeep. When they were all on board, the Sergeant raced off towards the General’s location. He pulled up alongside the General’s vehicle and without a moment to spare, Marion jumped off and informed the General that all was not lost. General Mitchell wiped away the sweat from his brow, relieved to find a miracle just in time. In order to allow Bernard to remain comfortably seated in the jeep, General Mitchell jumped in and listened to what Bernard had to say. It never crossed his mind to ask Bernard how he came to know this information. Bernard cleared his throat in order to be heard clearly. “Now listen carefully General. You’re not going to be able to fight them from the ground. You’re wasting your time. You’re going to have to get a fighter with missiles above their heads. There are three windows spaced equally apart in a triangular shape on the top of the craft. They’re not windows to look out of, they are receiving s. Up in the Earth’s orbit they have a much larger craft positioned which is generating an endless supply of nuclear power. Much like your satellites, it

transmits beams of electrical power down through the Earth’s atmosphere and is received by it’s smaller messenger crafts through those three windows. Once you destroy or disable those windows, they will no longer be able to absorb the electrical power beams which will in turn cut it’s power source off. Therefore, not only will it’s weapons fail but the ship itself will no longer have the power to function.” General Mitchell’s eyes lit up as he gave Bernard a smack on the shoulder. He jumped from the jeep and immediately ran to his radio control unit. He ed the Air Force with haste and quickly relayed the information to it’s top command. Once he received confirmation that the fighters were airborne and they were informed of their targets, General Mitchell dropped the receiver and headed back to the jeep. When he returned, he found Bernard and the two ladies were no longer there. “Heh you there!” he called to the jeep driver. “Where did they go? The guy and the two ladies? Did they say where they were going?” General Mitchell was anxious to speak to them again and hoped they would have stuck around to witness their final assault on the intruders. He moved through the street weaving in and out among the units asking if anyone had seen the three people, but his efforts to locate them turned up fruitless. Off in the distance a new loud rumble burst out from the dark sky. It was the Air Force Fighters on route to relieve the ground units from any further destruction. Six Fighters in all appeared in unison, maneuvering with precision and expertise. The ground units were ordered to distract the spacecraft with repeated nonstop firing while three of the Fighter Jets circled around the craft from above staying out of the firing range. The other three Fighter Jets examined their targets while performing fly-overs and when their targets were clearly located, they wasted no time in taking aim. Each one zeroed in on a specific window and one by one they swooped down and hit the missile release button. The first two windows were destroyed instantly but before the third missile reached it’s intended destination, the craft managed to fire one last ultra-sonic beam up into the sky nipping the third Fighter Jet on the tail. The Fighter lost control and immediately nose-dived to the ground. The short distance to the ground below left the pilot no time to eject to safety. The Fighter crashed within seconds taking the pilot with it to his death. By the time the jet exploded, the other Fighters had already regrouped and within seconds had taken out the third window. Almost immediately the spacecraft lost power and began to weave from side to side

unable to maintain a hovering position. It made an attempt to run, but continued to lose altitude until it lost total control and went crashing into the side of a twenty story office building. The hours that followed were spent in clearing away the many fatalities and fallen debris, and a massive examination of the alien craft and it’s crew was promptly executed. The entire area was sealed off by orders sent down from the National Security Council, and no one except top ranking officials were permitted access to the wreckage. Marion called up her boss at the ‘Chicago Informer’ and briefly explained some of the events that had taken place recently. Her boss was left speechless unable to process so much information in such little time. Marion told him not to worry. She’d be back in Chicago just as soon as he wired her some money for airline tickets. “Oh, by the way boss. Make that enough for four tickets, will you?” She heard a loud ‘What?’ roar through the phone line but she was too exhausted to explain any more of the details. She simply thanked her boss for the favor and kissed him good-bye before hanging up the phone. When she received the money, she was grateful to see the amount was more than generous, allowing her and the others to take a hotel room for the night. They had no idea where Jerry was. They hoped he had survived. They had come so far, it would be so unfair to lose any one of them now. After having checked into two rooms in a comfortable hotel, they all showered and met in the lobby ready to sit down to a large welldeserved meal. The diningroom in the hotel had already closed for the evening so they ventured out down the street until they came across a Chinese restaurant which was open all night. They ambled in anxious to begin gorging themselves. They were seated at a table next to a window which overlooked the main street. They all sat silently too tired to speak. Allison rested her head in the palm of her hand and found herself staring into the street, her eyes swollen from lack of sleep. For a moment she thought she saw a man off in the distance who looked like her Jerry but when she blinked away the tired film that had settled across her eyes, there was no longer anyone in sight. Unaware that she was drifting off into a light slumber, Allison jerked her eyes open when a tapping on the window next to her startled her. She opened her eyes and for a moment thought she was still dreaming, for when she looked at the window she saw Jerry Wilcox standing outside the window. She tried blinking

him away but he wouldn’t disappear. Suddenly, Marion shouted out for the entire restaurant to hear. “It’s Jerry! He’s back! Look Allison, it’s Jerry!” Allison was ecstatic. She jumped up from her chair causing it to flip back against the wall as she bolted out from the restaurant. She threw her arms around Jerry’s neck as he extended his arms out to her. After a long welcoming hug, she grabbed his hand and dragged him into the restaurant to the gang. After a large tasteful meal they returned to the hotel where they dove into their comfortable warm beds and ed out deeply exhausted. No one had time to worry about tomorrow.

CHAPTER 27

“Well well, so we meet again,” sneered a low deep voice from above. Marion opened her eyes only a crack, squinting as a bright stream of light filtered through the room window. Her stomach muscles tightened as she recognized the voice. When her eyes finally focused in on the large form of a man hovering above her head, she thrust herself up into a sitting position. Fear washed over her entire body as General Bergoff stood only a few feet away staring at her donning an evil grin. Marion reached over to nudge Allison who was still sound asleep. “Allison, wake up. Come on Al, we’ve got company.” Allison finally rolled over and opened her eyes. When she saw the General standing in their room, she freaked out and began shouting, “help! somebody call the police, please help us!” “I’d stop that nonsense if I were you. You’re already in enough hot water for all the trouble you’ve caused us,” snarled the General overwhelmed with anger. He threw his hands up into the air and shook his head. “You just couldn’t mind your own business, could you? You had to go and spoil all of our plans. You two ladies and that boyfriend of yours should have minded your own business.” Marion had about all that she could take. She threw her pillow at the General then bluntly asked him for the truth. “So General, what the hell is it that you and your alien friends are up to anyway? It must be pretty juicy if you’re willing to fight it out against your own men.” Marion sat and waited, hoping for a response. General Bergoff laughed. “Do you mean to tell me that your crazy hybrid friend hasn’t told you yet?” “What are you talking about?” replied Marion.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me he hasn’t spilled the beans to you yet?” retorted the General quite pleased with himself. He could see Marion was struggling to put things in perspective. “Look General, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to leave right now, I’d really like to put this entire ordeal to rest. You and your friends lost the battle last night, now it’s time for you to get back to reality,” scoffed Marion. “Do you really believe that we lost? I’m afraid the war has yet to be fought Miss Stevenson, and when the war begins….” At that moment a bright flash of light burst into the room and two small aliens appeared, both armed with spray guns. “Well ladies,” stated the General; “your escorts have arrived.” He raised his hands towards the aliens indicating to Marion and Allison it was time to go. “Oh no,” Allison cried. “I’m not going anywhere with those guys. Forget it.” “Please don’t make it harder on yourself. You know what we’re capable of. Now, why not make it easy on yourself.” Allison was not about to leave the hotel with the aliens. She stood up and as loudly as she could, she began shouting hysterically, “help! call the police, help somebody!” General Bergoff glanced at the aliens and nodded his head. One of the aliens turned to Allison and without warning, he raised the spray gun in her direction and fired. Allison ed out and fell to the floor. “Now Miss Stevenson, is it your turn?” laughed General Bergoff. Marion jumped from her bed and kneeled down beside Allison. After checking her friend’s pulse and finding that she was still breathing, Marion looked up at the General reg herself to defeat. She stood up and waited as General Bergoff pulled Allison up from the floor and placed her on the edge of the bed. In an effort to prop Allison’s body up, Marion fumbled about nervously afraid of returning to the alien’s ship. “Okay Miss Stevenson, it looks like you’re ready to leave. It was nice seeing you again. Next time we meet perhaps it will be under better circumstances.” He smiled at Marion’s sullen expression before waving them off.

“Good-bye ladies.” At that moment the door from the outer hallway flew open and a few seconds later, the door ading their two rooms flung open and crashed up against the wall. Jerry raised a gun to the aliens the moment he stepped into the room and squeezed the trigger first once, then twice hitting both aliens in the head. His FBI training had left him an expert marksman. The General was able to flee from the room while Bernard Watkins tended to Allison and Marion and while Jerry was ridding themselves of the pesky aliens. Bending down to inspect the alien’s wounds, everyone but Bernard was surprised to see that instead of blood oozing out from the wounds a clear colorless liquid was prevalent which had a ozone smell about it. “Where did you get that gun Jerry?” asked Marion pleasantly surprised at his quick and accurate shooting abilities. Raising the gun in front of him, Jerry jested about, by blowing the invisible smoke from the tip of the barrel then spun the gun around like some hot shot cowboy. “I got this baby last night. It belonged to one of the soldiers who had been killed. I thought it might come in handy.” “Well, thank God it did. But tell me guys. How did General Bergoff know where to find us?” asked Marion. Bernard Watkins looked at Jerry and after hesitating a few moments finally pointed his finger at Jerry. “Hold on a minute. I didn’t snitch.” stammered Jerry nervously. “If you think for one minute that I brought them here you’re….” “It’s the sensor Jerry,” said Bernard. “The one they implanted behind your ear. I tried to tell you Marion. As long as he has that sensor on him, we’ll never get away from them. They can locate us no matter where we go.” “I hate to tell you this Jerry, but we’ve got to find you a doctor. Someone who can remove that thing,” said Marion feeling extremely guilty at having dragged poor Jerry into the entire mess right from the very beginning of her assignment. Understanding the seriousness of the situation, Jerry raced over to the phone and

removed the phone directory from the desk drawer. He quickly turned to the pages listing all the local physicians and as he went down the page he scribbled down some names and addresses. If one would not perform the operation perhaps another doctor on the list would. Closing the book with a thud, Jerry handed Marion the list. “Okay, let’s go.” Jerry headed for the door. “Come on,” he ordered. “Let’s go.” “Wait!” called Marion. Shouldn’t we have breakfast first?” “Are you kidding. General Bergoff is probably out there rounding up a new posse to track us down. We’ve got to get this thing out now,” insisted Jerry. Everyone agreed, even Allison who was beginning to regain her consciousness. They headed out the door together determined to find a trustworthy physician. As they entered the hotel lobby, Jerry suddenly had an idea. He went to the public phones where he retrieved a number from the yellow pages. He called the DC Road-Runner Cab Company looking for Dunken. He was thrilled to be given confirmation that Dunken was on duty and available. Jerry booked his services for the remainder of the day. While they waited outside by the curb, Jerry updated the rest of them on how he came to meet Dunken and how Dunken had helped him on several occasions. At about the same time he finished his story, Dunken’s cab rolled up and parked up alongside the curb. Jerry leaned down and opened the door. As he peered inside the cab he was relieved to see Dunken’s smiling face. It appeared he escaped the explosion with only a few cuts and bruises. “Heh Jerry old buddy. Am I glad to see you. It’s a good thing I went into work today. I thought it would be the first place you’d look for me if you needed my help again,” explained Dunken excitedly. “You’re a good man Dunken, thanks.” Jerry turned to the others who stood waiting to enter the cab. “I know, we’ve got to get out of here.” He stepped back holding onto the door and waited until the three of them barreled into the back seat. When they were comfortably settled in, Jerry slammed the door shut then climbed into the front seat. “Okay Dunken, we need to go to 615 Pine. Can you handle it?” snickered Jerry.

“Let’s see…..yap, I can handle it boss,” replied Dunken smiling from ear to ear. He was beaming with pleasure at the prospect of being part of the excitement again. When the cab pulled up to the Pine address, Jerry requested that Dunken remain out by the street as a lookout. He was to report to them immediately if he spotted anything vaguely suspicious. As the four of them walked to the entry door, Jerry stopped and snapped his finger at having thought of something. He walked back to the cab where Dunken was already scanning the area and quickly gave him a detailed description of General Bergoff, just in case. Their visit to the doctor’s office lasted only ten minutes, just long enough to get an impression on whether the doctor would insist on knowing the details of his unusual operation. He was an older man and according to his receptionist very strict and set in his ways. Before it was time to meet with the doctor, the four of them retreated from the office. He was not what they were looking for. Climbing back into the cab, Jerry relayed the next address to Dunken. The next office was five blocks away but due to a fender bender, the drive lasted twenty minutes. On arriving to their second destination they immediately became aware of the fact that it was a public clinic. When they stepped into the under-furnished and poverty stricken building they were amazed at the number of people who lined the walls waiting to be seen by a doctor. A plaque on the wall listed the names of the physicians on staff and made note of their specialties. Jerry ambled up to the receptionist’s counter and ask if he could speak with a Doctor Hobbs. He leaned against the counter as he watched the receptionist leaf through several pages of names. “Sorry Mr. Mr?” the receptionist paused waiting for Jerry to answer. “Wilcox, the name’s Wilcox,” replied Jerry. The receptionist placed the waiting list down in front of her then said, “it’ll be a few hours Mr. Wilcox. If you’d like to take a seat I’ll call you when it’s your turn.” “A few hours?” exclaimed Jerry sharply. “I can’t wait that long. Could you squeeze me in sooner?” “Sorry Mr. Wilcox, but it’s first come first serve around here. Some of these

people have been waiting since yesterday.” The receptionist smiled and shrugged her shoulders in an apologetic gesture. Jerry nodded his head at the others who were already waiting by the door. They had already surmised that time would be a problem. This problem couldn’t wait. As they dropped themselves back into the cab, Dunken could see that something was wrong. They were very quiet and their facial expressions were abnormally grim. “Heh guys, what’s going on here? You haven’t even told me why we’re visiting doctors.” He threw out his right hand and jabbed Jerry in the ribs. “Come on Jerry, talk to me. Haven’t I proven my loyalty to you already?” Jerry grumbled under his breath trying to decide whether to involve Dunken in this new matter, or to simply keep him at a distance. Dunken nudged him again begging to know what they were doing. “Okay Dunken, I guess you deserve to know.” As they drove heading to their next stop, Jerry filled Dunken in on the sensor and how it ended up inside his head. By the time he had concluded the story, Dunken had almost wiped out two cars and one fire hydrant. He had become so entranced in the entire ordeal aboard the alien ship that he lost total concentration where driving was concerned. They sat in silence for a few minutes until for no apparent reason, Dunken slammed on the brakes in the middle of the busy street, and turning to face Jerry, his face lit up as if in victory and screamed. “I’ve got it Jerry!” Jerry looked at the over-exuberant cab driver in astonishment. “What have you got Dunken?” asked Jerry curiously wondering where it was leading to. “Sylvia! My cousin Sylvia,” he shouted. Above his bellowing voice, the sound of car horns clamored around them as disgruntled motorists shouted words of profanity at his idle cab. Whispering a low key ‘oops!’, Dunken threw the cab into gear and moved back into the flow of traffic. Jerry found himself dangling on Dunken’s meaningless words. Tapping his fist on the steering wheel, Dunken was confident that he was in a

position to help Jerry again. “Sylvia is my cousin, she lives across town. If it’s a doctor you’re looking for, well maybe she can help. Her boyfriend’s a doctor, almost.” “Excuse me?” grumbled Jerry. “What do you mean by ‘almost’?” “He’s a third year intern. He hasn’t done any major surgery yet, but he’s a pretty bright guy. I met him last Thanksgiving at Sylvia’s house.” Jerry shifted his body so that he could see Marion, Allison and Bernard. “What do you guys think. Should I take a chance?” Allison moved forward in her seat. “Oh Jerry, do you really have to get that thing out? What if something goes wrong?” She turned to Bernard and spoke with a tone of desperation. “Bernard, you’re one of them, can’t you do something for Jerry? There’s got to be another way.” Everyone sat staring at Bernard waiting for his response. “You’re all so sure that I’m one of them, how do you know for certain?” Bernard raised his brow questioningly. “Oh come on Bernard,” chided Marion. “You’d have to be one of them in order to do the things that you do. Have you forgotten that it was you who had taken me aboard your ship against my will, without my knowledge for that matter, not to mention other unique abilities you seem to have.” “Okay, okay,” said Jerry. “All that isn’t important right now. Well Bernard? Have you any suggestions for us?” “I’m afraid not, at least I’m not aware of any other way of disabling the sensor. I have to warn you though. Time’s running out. We’ve got to find out where the Mother Ship is scheduled to land. We have to be there to stop them from succeeding with their agenda. They’ve got to be stopped before they land and unload their cargo or……” Bernard took a deep breath, shuddering at the thought of the consequences. “Look Bernard, I can’t take any more suspense. What the hell is about to happen?” snapped Jerry.

“The Mother Ship is bigger than anything you’ve ever seen. It’s been given the name ‘Mother Ship’ because for three of your decades it has been raising a perfect race of hybrids. There are ten thousand hybrids on board that have been raised to think and act like Earthlings. When they arrive they will be meshed into your human population. Once they have been unloaded, there will be others on the way.” Bernard’s words created a cold chill inside the small confines of the cab. Dunken’s excitement had suddenly turned to fear as he thought about the implications if the aliens truly did succeed. “I don’t get it Bernard, how would they know enough about our society and our cultures to just jump in and blend in without being noticed?” inquired Marion completely amazed at this new turn of events. “What do you think they’ve been doing all these years. Not only have they been interbreeding different species, they’ve been digging into the brains of people from all walks of life, stealing their thoughts and emotions and in many cases, their memories. They were reliable teaching tools that were used extensively in years of training the Hybrids aboard the Mother Ship.” “Won’t they eventually die out? That’s what happened to you and the others that had already been placed on Earth. And by the way, you haven’t thanked me yet for coming along when I did. From what I’ve been told, you stole some tissue from me which saved your life.” Bernard closed his eyes for a moment and mumbled, “that’s another story.” “What was that?” asked Marion very much interested in his remark. “Oh it’s not important, really. As I was about to say, this breed won’t die at 40. The Zordons believe their army will survive at least 120 Earth years and…..” “What did you just say?” bellowed Jerry. “Army? Is that the word you used?” Bernard wasn’t certain what Jerry was implying but he did confirm what he had just said. “Well that explains General Bergoff’s role in all of this. They’ve created an army and guess who’s in charge. Now we know why he stabbed his fellow humans in

the back. The glory of power.

CHAPTER 28

Dunken’s cab raced across town utilizing side streets in order to avoid traffic tieups. The occupants of the cab sat immobile, their thoughts deeply distracted by their newly acquired knowledge. They were surprised when Dunken’s voice announced their arrival at his cousin’s home. The excited cab driver jumped from the cab and began opening the rear doors. “We’re here guys, we’d better hurry!” rang out his voice cracking and fading as his words raced out with an undertone of panic. His four engers jerked to attention as they eventually became aware of their arrival. As they began to climb out from the cramped confines of the cab, Dunken headed up the narrow cement pathway leading up to the steps of the small quaint house belonging to his cousin Sylvia. He wasted no time in making his unexpected arrival known. Reaching forward, he rapped his fist on the white wooden door and continued pounding until the door flung open with a high shrill creak. Dunken almost lost his footing on the top step as the door’s edge brushed slightly across his chest. He was just about to blurt out the words ‘hi Sylvia’ when her hand grabbed his jacket and yanked him towards the open door frantically talking. She was talking so fast her words were garbled and incomprehensible. Dunken attempted to interject on behalf of the others who were trailing close behind him into the house and down a short hallway. “Sylvia, we need your help. We….” began Dunken hoping to gain her attention. “I’m sorry Dunk…I…you’ll never believe…..did you hear what’s going on over……” Sylvia’s words flowed from her lips without a moment’s hesitation. “Sylvia, it’s really important, we need your hel……” Again Dunken attempted to restrain her hysterical behavior. “Come in here,” she ordered, motioning to all five visitors. “You’ve got to see this.” She ran into the livingroom where the T.V. stood airing scenes involving

the military. Turning the volume knob to the right, the event taking place began echoing off the walls of the tiny room. “Listen everyone, you’ve got to see what’s going on right here on our Earth. It’s happening, it’s really happening.” Sylvia’s eyes were locked onto the T.V. screen not at all interested in what brought the visitors to her door. It wasn’t long before everyone realized what was taking place. Jerry moved up closer to the T.V. followed by Dunken and Bernard. Marion and Allison dropped themselves on the couch not once allowing their eyes to wander from the T.V. set. They listened attentively and horrified at the live news coverage of a historical event which was unfolding before their eyes. They had momentarily forgotten the reason which brought them to Sylvia’s house in the first place. The news reporter’s voice saturated the air around them. “Yes folks, it’s true. An Unidentified Flying Object has been detected and picked up by three separate and strategically located radar scopes in the U.S.’s southwest. One of the high-powered experimental radar installations involved in this incredible discovery is situated high on a mountain top in the area where Utah, Arizona, New Mexico and Colorado meet. Indications show that the object in question is massive in size, larger than anything that has ever been documented from past sightings over the last 50 years. From speaking with military personnel that are stationed here on alert, with the object has been attempted by radio, but unfortunately with no response. The Air Defense Command has also been notified and other military units have been activated. General Mitchell, Secretary of State has been ed informing him of this development and is attending in an impromptu meeting with the t Chiefs of Staff, the National Security Council, and the President. Apparently they were connected up to a direct voice-to-voice communication with the top-secret radar station which originally detected the UFO.” Jerry and Dunken turned and looked at Bernard Watkins simultaneously. “It’s happening isn’t it?” asked Jerry as he ran his hand over his hair. “This is what you warned us about. They’re here.” Bernard Watkins shook his head in confirmation then returned his attention back to the news reporter. “General Mitchell ordered Air Defense Command and their collective military

units to stay on standby status, only to intervene when specifically ordered to do so by the General himself. The Army Counterintelligence and the Interplanetary Phenomenon Unit of the Scientific and Technical Committee were placed on Red-Alert. According to my scientific sources, by means of triangulation based upon information from the three separate radar scopes, the proposed area of landing was calculated to be in the vicinity of Del Rio, New Mexico. A scout team comprised of military and scientific personnel were immediately dispatched by helicopter to the sight.” Bernard Watkins spun himself around and shrieked out words of urgency. “We’ve got to get there, NOW! Marion, your boss wired you enough money for Airfare back to Chicago for all four of us.” Then pointing his finger at Dunken, Bernard asked quickly; “where’s the nearest airfield? We’ve got to use that money to charter a flight out immediately to Del Rio. We’ve got to warn those people. That ship cannot be allowed to land.” Marion spoke up with a sudden thought. “Shouldn’t we the president? It would be quicker.” For a moment a flicker of agreement filled the room until Jerry remarked. The chances of us reaching him by phone are a million to one. And if we were lucky enough to beat those odds, we’d probably be shrugged off as a crank call. Well Dunken, we’re counting on you.” Dunken was already halfway down the hall shouting back over his shoulder. “What are you guys waiting for. Let’s get out of here. The airfield is at least 15 minutes away, and that’s only if I speed all the way.” Everyone raced out from the livingroom leaving Sylvia standing dumbfounded and bewildered in the middle of the empty room. She had not yet spoken to any of them, not even to find out why they had come by to visit her. Now they were gone and it had something to do with the UFO discovery. She turned the volume of the T.V. down and without any further consideration she plopped herself down on the couch. The doors of the cab were still closing as the cab sped away from the edge of the curb.

“Hang onto your hats!” Dunken shouted to his nervous engers. “Gilmore Airfield here we come!” Allison leaned forward to look at Jerry who was seated in the front seat. “What if we can’t get a plane to take us to Del Rio? What are we going to do then?” “Well,” said Jerry. “We’ll have to try a helicopter. We’ll have to hope for the best.” No more than 15 minutes transpired before the cab sped through the open steel gates leading into the Airfield. Dunken brought his cab to an abrupt stop alongside the istration and ticketing building. Everyone jumped from the cab with haste heading straight for the door. As they entered the quiet room, several employees of the Airfield stopped to look at the fast moving bunch of people heading for the ticket booth who inadvertently were stirring up a clamor. Jerry moved ahead of the others placing himself face to face with a ticket agent. “We’ve got to get out to Del Rio, New Mexico immediately. What have you got available out there?” he inquired taking a few deep breaths of air. “Wow, that’s a pretty big request sir. Most of these planes fly locally on such short notice. You’d have to book a special flight like this a few weeks in advance.” She saw a distressed look creep over Jerry’s face and immediately softened her demeanor before adding, “I’m really sorry, I really would help you if I could.” “Look, you have no idea how important this is. It’s a matter of Life and Death.” Jerry leaned over the counter in desperation. “Well, I’m sure it is important but don’t you think that’s a bit over-exaggerated, you know, the Life and Death reason.” The lady had obviously heard countless excuses for last minute bookings and this had to be one of them. “I’m not using that as an excuse. It’s for real. If we don’t get out there ASAP, well it could ultimately change the course of YOUR life Miss….Miss?” Jerry paused, waiting for her to introduce herself. “Mrs. Thompson, thank you,” she offered willingly.

“Mrs. Thompson,” exclaimed Jerry with a firmness in his frustrated voice. “We’ve got $2500.00 cash, we’re good for the rest. This IS official business,” Jerry growled taking out his FBI ID. Mrs. Thompson looked at his ID carefully before drooping her shoulders and sighing. “I’m sorry Mr. Wilcox. Really I am. But as I’ve already stated, there’s nothing available.” Jerry slammed his fist down on the counter overwhelmed with frustration shouting out “Shit!” Then instantly, everyone in the room jolted to attention as a door leading in from the Air Strip crashed closed. “An FBI Man on official business, eh? Well I wouldn’t want to stand in the way of government business,” the short stout man roared. “The name’s Riley, James Riley. I’ve got a Twin Engine Turbo-Prop sitting out there with nothing to do. She just came back from the mechanic.” “I’m sorry,” called out Mrs. Thompson. “I wasn’t aware that you were available.” “Don’t worry about it. What counts is that my little lady is fit as a fiddle and ready to go. $2500.00 is a tad lean though.” Looking at Jerry, he smiled while scratching his crotch. “I’m sure you’re good for the balance. If I can’t trust the FBI, then who the hell can I trust?” James Riley called them all to follow him out to the Air Strip where his well-cared for Twin Engine plane sat idle. He winked at Jerry as he began his ascent into the small door of the plane. “Is this emergency flight connected to some kind of top secret operation or could a loner civilian like me know what it’s all about?” Jerry tightened the muscles on his face and raised his brow. “Sorry guy, I’d like to let you in on it especially since we couldn’t accomplish our task without your help, but….well I just don’t think it’s a good idea right now. You’ll find out soon enough.” Having said that, Jerry disappeared inside the small plane and ed the others who were already seated and ready to go. James Riley did not board the plane with the others. He rushed off without saying a word heading back to the office. His five engers stared through the small windows waiting impatiently for his return. Within 15 minutes, his short stout body bolted through the door, his arms struggling to hold onto several small loose objects which he was toting along with him. As he boarded the plane

grumbling, cuss words slipped from his lips as the objects began falling to the floor. Everyone watched as his fingers fumbled beneath his feet to retrieve his goods. Once the energetic pilot regained control, he approached his engers and began tossing out bags of potato chips and peanuts that he had scrounged up inside the office. He apologized for the meager offerings explaining that the usual local trips did not require him to provide food or drinks. “I’m afraid this is all you’re going to get on this trip,” he explained. “It’s not very often that I get a flight this far.” James Riley moved to a small compartment at the rear of the small plane and opening the door, removed five cans of soda handing one to each of his grateful engers. When he was certain everyone was settled and seatbelted in, the pilot smiled and assured them that they were on their way. Everyone’s eyes focused to the front and watched as he handled himself professionally behind the controls. After completing the safety checks and obtaining runway clearance, he maneuvered the plane up into the air. Once the plane veered away from the Airfield and locked on course, everyone removed their seatbelts to reposition themselves closer together to enable them to discuss the matter at hand. “It’s going to take us at least 8 hours to get to Del Rio,” said Jerry. “You can bet the Scout Team will arrive long before we ever will. I wonder what they’re going to do if that craft does attempt to land.” Marion glanced up at Jerry’s stressed appearance. “Will it matter what they do? Our military units don’t stand a chance against that thing. Isn’t that right Bernard?” Bernard sat staring at the floor completely detached from the conversation around him. “Hello, are you with us Bernard?” asked Marion tapping him lightly on the shoulder. Bernard raised his eyes in her direction but still appeared a bit withdrawn and lost in his own thoughts. “Bernard!” shouted Allison. “We need some help here.”

Bernard looked into the faces of each person sitting around him before answering. “I’m desperately searching my memory for an answer. In all those years aboard the breeding ship I was only allowed on the Mother Ship three or four times. My job was to assist in gene experimentation, developing flawless clones and perfecting fetus survival outside the human womb. I’m sorry to say that my experience as a chemistry professor landed me that job, not one involving engineering.” Marion shook her head somewhat perturbed at his refusal to it his real genetic origin. “Boy, the Zordon’s really didn’t miss a thing, did they? Not only did they give you the real professor’s looks, but they gave you his knowledge too. The poor man, you stole everything from him.” Bernard had so much to say on that specific topic but found it unimportant and time consuming at that particular time. It would have to wait until…..until…..well maybe never at this rate. “Come on guys,” urged Dunken. “As I see it, we don’t have time to waste. Somebody better come up with a plan of action by the time we get there.” “That’s right,” agreed Jerry. “There has to be a way to destroy that craft. By the way, how did we destroy the craft at the warehouse?” Marion motioned to Bernard to explain. He enthusiastically accepted the job and began to describe how the small messenger crafts were powered by electrical beams emanating from a nuclear power source from within the larger crafts which stationed themselves in the Earth’s orbit. Once the beam could no longer be received by the craft, it would automatically become disabled and lose control and crash. Jerry jerked to attention as a streak of hope shot through his veins. “That’s it then. We can go in using the same tactic as we did in Washington. We’ll inform the military as soon as we get there…..” “If it’s not too late,” interjected Allison. “Who knows what we’ll find when we get there.”

“I really doubt that the president is going to sit back and welcome a bunch of aliens to the Earth without taking some kind of precautions,” stated Dunken. “He’s a lot smarter than that.” “Don’t count on it,” blurted out Bernard. “Don’t forget what those aliens look like. Something else I haven’t mentioned to you yet. The Zordons are relying on their exact human features to convince our…..your people that they ARE humans. And in a gesture of peace they are returning them back to Earth. The Zordon’s are counting on the human’s civilized and humanitarian nature to accept their fellow humans back home where they belong.” “Oh God, what a nightmare,” groaned Allison. “Well, we can’t let it get to that point, can we? Somehow we’ve got to notify someone in charge to stall any type of with them until we can get there.” Jerry sighed then slumped back against the back of his seat. “It isn’t going to happen the way you think Jerry,” grumbled Bernard. “We can’t disable the Mother Ship using the same method as we did the messenger ship. The Mother Ship has her own nuclear power source on board. She can destroy anything in her path.” Everyone fell silent, stricken with horror and disappointment. Their faces lost all trace of color leaving them pale and sickly in appearance. “We’re going to have to destroy the power source,” stated Bernard attempting to muster up a new flicker of hope. “But you already said it can’t be done,” answered Marion. “From what I can see, we don’t stand a chance of winning against the Zordons.” “That’s not entirely true Marion,” said Bernard. “I said it was impossible to cut power from her using the same method as we implemented in destroying the messenger ship. We……..” Before Bernard was allowed to finish his explanation, a bright flash of light exploded inside the small confines of the plane. As the light dissipated, the forms of two small Zordons stood facing the five startled engers, each one aiming their spray gun towards the small unsuspecting group.

Dunken was the first to react. He jumped to his feet and charged forward heading straight into the line of fire. He hit the floor with a thud and as Marion was about to run to his aid, Bernard grabbed her arm to hold her back. “No, let them take us. We need to go,” he beckoned to them all. Everyone froze in shock and disbelief at Bernard’s ridiculous words. One word raced through each of their minds simultaneously, ‘TRADER’. Before anyone could face him, the plane suddenly dipped to the right then just as suddenly, dipped to the left. The Zordon’s light feeble bodies lost balance and went tumbling down to the floor. Jerry and Dunken stumbled past the two seats that separated them from the Zordons and immediately began yanking out seatbelts from the front seats which they quickly used to immobilize their assailants. Jerry allowed his body to fall to the plane’s floor and take rest against the wall behind the pilot’s seat. In a moment of amazement, everyone found themselves speechless. Their attention was diverted when a hissing and crackling sound filtered in above their heads. “I don’t know what just happened back there,” spoke the captain sounding extremely confused, “and I’m not sure that I want to know. I just hope I was able to help you out with that little bit of turbulence.” Jerry peered his head around the corner so that James Riley could catch sight of his gesture. Jerry raised his hand and gave Riley the thumbs up. “Can’t we just throw these two goons out the door?” asked Allison. “Not at this altitude,” replied Jerry. “We’ll have to wait and take them with…” Bernard jumped in ignoring everyone’s sudden cold attitude towards him. “You don’t want to get rid of them, we need them.” “Sure we do,” sneered Allison. “You wouldn’t want to hurt your friends here, would you?” “It’s not what you think,” stated Bernard confidently. “We need them in order to get on board the Mother Ship. I’m sure that’s where they came from. They’re wearing a small black circle on the top right side of their attire.”

“And why on Earth would you want us to board that craft anyway? We were lucky to escape their clutches once already,” growled Jerry as he approached the group. I wasn’t able to complete my idea on how to destroy the Mother Ship before our visitors showed up. I was about to say that we would have to go directly to their power source in order to disable it which means boarding the ship.” “Are you crazy!” exclaimed Marion. “How do you propose to do that may I ask?” “Using these two as escorts. After all, their orders were to come out here and retrieve us. Why disappoint their commander. However, I don’t think it would be wise for all of us to return. There are no guarantees that whoever goes will even come back. Therefore, someone would have to keep going to Del Rio and attempt to disclose the truth about what is really on the Zordon’s agenda.” Bernard stopped and waited for approval. “I’ll go,” groaned Dunken as he attempted to regain his stance. He pressed down on the sides of his head with his large hands hoping to relieve a throbbing pain that had developed from his fall. “What do you think Bernard. Who should go?” asked Jerry approving the plan. “Well for starters, I for one need to go. I’ve been in the ship before and can save time in finding the nuclear power unit. You Jerry are a problem. I’m not sure what to do with you. If I take you aboard our every move will be tracked and if you go ahead to Del Rio, the Zordons will know that you’re there trying to sabotage their integration efforts.” “Damn it!” shouted Jerry. “If anyone should go with Bernard it should be me.” “Let me go Jerry,” said Dunken. “I’m good at following orders. I can handle it.” “No, I’ll go,” stated Marion firmly. “I already know what to expect once on board, you don’t. If you get rapped up in their mind control, I’ll bet they’ll make sure you don’t ever return. Not alive anyway. Besides, you’ll probably be of more use in Del Rio. Someone has to watch Jerry’s back in case General Bergoff shows up or any of his little friends. It’s just as important for Jerry and Allison to get word to the president or General Mitchell about what’s really going on and what our plans are aboard the ship.”

All were in agreement with Marion’s logic. Bernard and Jerry moved to where the aliens were tied up and released them from the belts. Finding a space away from the others, Bernard and Marion took their place with the two confused aliens who did not hear any part of the recent conversation. Bernard maintained possession of one of the spray guns while the other remained with Jerry. They wished each other ‘good luck’ and promised to meet again later if all went well. In a final and last minute effort to ensure their safety, Jerry buried the military pistol into the palm of Bernard’s hand. Then Bernard focused his eyes onto the eyes of one of the Zordons as if indicating to them it was time to go, and in a bright flash of light, their forms disappeared from inside the plane. Looking over his shoulder at the commotion to his rear, James Riley felt goosebumps run down his spine at the unexplainable event that had just taken place on his Twin Engine Turbo-Prop.

CHAPTER 29

Approaching a large Indian Reservation near Del Rio via a narrow winding road, newspaper reporters and radio personnel drove up in vast numbers. All were hoping to be present to witness the unfolding events that were about to make history. After decades of sightings and military cover-ups involving UFO crashes, the press was determined to break the story firsthand, dropping the reality of Unidentified Flying Objects right into the public’s lap. As news vehicles roared over the bumpy dirt road cameras ready, the long caravan suddenly slowed, eventually coming to a complete stop. They were greeted by military police at the edge of the Reservation where they had set up a thorough roadblock preventing all unauthorized persons from entering the restricted area. They ordered the reporters in a very emphatic manner to turn around and immediately leave the site. Angered and frustrated, the reporters withdrew themselves from the barricade, only to set up a line of observation along the unrestricted side of the barrier. They mounted their cameras on the roofs of their vans allowing them a view of the clutter of military vehicles and personnel that had already congregated near the believed site of . Patiently they waited and watched as missile launchers and military tanks rolled in on the backs of flatbeds and military transports. Since the eye-opening experience with the much smaller craft in Washington D.C. the previous day, they were well aware of the destructive power they were up against. The craft which was located in the Earth’s atmosphere by the military’s radar scope was immeasurably larger, and therefore assumed to be much more powerful. Several hours ed when a frenzied flood of excitement tore through the military camp. A shrill siren filtered through the evening air as groups of soldiers ran to their predetermined stations taking on a ready formation. Bright spot lights flared up into the dark night sky as a cold eerie silence engulfed the surrounding area. Communications had been locked into the radar installation throughout the entire operation, and now it appeared that word of the UFO’s position was received confirming it’s imminent approach. The anxiously awaiting news media acted on the military’s repositioning and immediately zoomed in on the scene. Their high-powered lenses allowed them

on-the-scene coverage without becoming embroiled in the anticipating danger. As the minutes evaporated into the darkness, the waiting finally came to an end. The dense array of stars began to disappear quickly as a large dark blanket emerged above the Indian Reservation. It crept in slowly and silently leaving everyone on ground speechless, their eyes helplessly transfixed on the enormous threatening mass. There was nothing to compare it to. Small green lights positioned close together trailed along the outer edges of the craft’s bottom extremities giving it a noticeably oval shape, the lights pulsating simultaneously off and on. There wasn’t a human on the ground who was not mesmerized by it’s authoritative appearance. Some shuttered with fear while others wiped away tears of utter amazement. The craft continued it’s forward journey while holding it’s descent so that it hovered above the tree tops. It’s size was immeasurable to the human eye. General Mitchell stood fast in the company of Colonel Jackson from the Air Defense Command and General Hicks from National Security. They watched as the craft moved above their heads and looking out into the distance they tly surmised that the ship spanned perhaps 1/2 of a mile in length and maybe 1000 feet across. General Mitchell turned to face the others, the lines around his eyes deepened with renewed strain. “I don’t know about you, but I’m worried.” He wiped the sweat that had formed on his brow and shook his head with an air of uncertainty. “We may as well be an army of ants beneath this thing waiting to be crushed.” Colonel Jackson and General Hicks nodded their heads in agreement. “Where’s General Bergoff?” asked Jackson. “Shouldn’t he be here by now?” “Your guess is as good as mine,” stated General Mitchell. “We haven’t been able to track him down. He hasn’t been around for any of this.” Removing his military helmet and scratching his head, the General continued. “You know, it’s really strange. Since yesterday’s encounter in Washington, D.C., there isn’t a soul on Earth that hasn’t heard or seen coverage of the battle that took place. You would think that General Bergoff would have gotten word.” General Mitchell sighed, and after a moment’s thought mumbled; “Something’s definitely wrong here.”

Jolted away from conversation, their attention veered suddenly to a new development that was beginning to unfold. The large slow-moving craft had moved forward considerably before coming to a stop. What appeared to be it’s center now hovered in place above the military brigade. General Mitchell’s units remained frozen in their positions in anticipation of orders to attack. The air became saturated with tension as no one dared to move or speak. General Mitchell had no idea how to proceed. He was in no position to make any moves fearing his weapons would have no detrimental affect on the unknown alien force. Showing hostile intentions could inadvertently and most assuringly prompt the aliens to strike back in retaliation jeopardizing his men’s lives. No, he thought. His only course of action at that point would be to make repeated attempts at transmitting friendly radio messages. Moving to his Communications unit, General Mitchell picked up the transmitter and began the transmission by identifying himself and asking that they in turn identify themselves. The Communications expert assigned to the task manipulated the knobs on his equipment hoping to lock in on the craft’s frequency. Each attempt to send a message ended swiftly with unbearable ear-piercing static. Annoyed and agitated, the General tossed the handheld radio so that it landed in the dry dirt below his feet. “Excuse me General,” said the Sergeant in charge of Communications. “Don’t give up yet. Let me retune the frequency. We’ll get it, you’ll see General.” The Sergeant picked up the radio and handed it back to General Mitchell who was loosening the collar around his sweat-soaked neck. “You seem awfully sure of yourself Sergeant,” grumbled the General. “Yes sir,” the Sergeant stated with conviction in his voice. “If these things have communications equipment on board, it’s more than likely it functions like ours. By turning these knobs here I just have to find the right electromagnetic wave frequency intermediate between their audio frequency and their infrared frequency and presto! We’ll have ,” exclaimed the Sergeant, obviously excited at having been assigned the task of setting up communications between them and the aliens. His efforts eventually proved successful. After having identified himself numerous more times, the two Generals and the Colonel held their breath as a clear sharp voice responded. Not from the radio, but it emerged from somewhere

on the craft itself. Everyone including the press personnel froze as the words without a face drifted in the air for all to hear. “We are the Zordons. We have come from another solar system many Life Spans away from your Earth. We are here on a mission of peace and goodwill. We are here to return your brothers and sisters that had willingly come to us to aid our civilization and teach us your ways. We are grateful for the knowledge that they so selflessly shared with us. But now Earthlings, it is time to return them to you, back to their loved ones.” The unexpected words reeked havoc with the emotions of the hundreds of humans who looked on in bewilderment. They had been expecting threats of death and destruction not sentimentality after having one of their ships destroyed a little more than twenty-four hours ago. General Mitchell briefly discussed the situation with General Hicks and Colonel Jackson before sending out a response to the waiting craft. It was decided that the President would have to be notified and updated on the new development. A decision of such magnitude could not be made in haste and would require a unanimous decision to move ahead by the t Chiefs of Staff, the National Security Council and of course the President himself. The General picked up the radio and began his response. “This is General Mitchell, representing the government and the people of the United States of America. We whole-heartedly welcome your offer of peace and are in favor of accepting our people back home. However, please be advised that now is not the time. We need to prepare ourselves for your arrival.” The voice emerged again from the massive ship, this time it spoke more sharply. “We do not have time to waste. Our time in your atmosphere is short and cannot be prolonged to any great extent. If you wish your people to be returned, NOW is the time.” “Please don’t misunderstand our intentions,” pleaded General Mitchell. “We have channels to follow before making important decisions. We need some time. Please give us a little time.” “You have one of your Earth hours. That is all we can allow you.” Moments after the alien’s response ended, the ship began taking on a transformation. An incessant grinding sound sprung forth from the large dark mass which up until

now had remained silent. The endless row of green lights faded away until they could no longer be seen by the humans below her. A vast electrical field appeared like a glove around the entire ship, sending bright swaggering rays of electricity bursting outward from the craft’s outer body. By this time the General had already ed the President and set up direct communication lines with the other top ranking decision makers. All agreed that accepting the alien’s peace offerings without taking precautions for their safety would be immature and could inadvertently be devastating to their National Security. General Hicks positioned himself in view of General Mitchell and anxiously pointed his finger to his watch. They had less than 20 minutes to make a final decision. The conversation diverted to the real issue at hand; the one involving the humans who were waiting aboard the craft hoping to come home. No one wanted the responsibility of denying their own people from returning home, it would be unconstitutional and inhumane. The answer seemed so simple, yet the fear of the unknown viciously stabbed each of them repeatedly in the gut. An answer could not be reached in only one hour. The President felt it was his obligation to seek an extension of time. He requested his communications officer to connect him to the alien’s frequency and without any further consideration, made his request. “I am the President of the United States of America. I have been informed of your mission here. I respect your intelligence and your humanitarian gesture. However, we are not in a position to make a decision of such great importance without giving it further consideration. We would appreciate more time to…..” “Your hour has ed Mr. President. We must leave now, and the ten thousand Earthlings who are aboard crying tears of joy at having returned back home will have no choice but to live out their lives in a much colder world. It will be on your conscience, not ours,” stated the voice void of any emotion. The grinding engines waned as the craft began a slow ascent straight up. A barrage of shouting and waving arms filled the air like a thundering stampede of buffalo. Emotions were rising as guilt began festering inside the hundreds of humans who watched in despair as thousands of their fellow humans were denied the chance to return back to Earth. Picking up their weapons, unit by unit

army personnel shouted for the President to hear; “let them come home, we’ll fight the aliens if we have to. We’re willing to take a chance,” and “we’re humanbeings, not aliens. Bring them back!!” The President slumped back in his leather chair fighting off mixed emotions. If he turned his back on those ten thousand humans, his Presidency would be lost, for what good is a President without the people’s respect. He bolted forward and cried out to General Mitchell who was still patched in to the President’s office having visual as well as radio . “Patch me in, quickly!” Immediately the word was conveyed to return the humans. The craft’s ascent halted instantly then slowly began it’s descent until it regained it’s position above the tree tops. The familiar sound of grinding engines became prominent while the electrical field remained intact around the craft. Millions of people watched in horror and astonishment at the incredible event that flooded their T.V. screens. Many of them inched their way closer and closer to the T.V. waiting anxiously for the brave people to disembark from the ship. As they continued to watch, a shiver of fear raced through their blood streams. Looking on with unyielding anticipation, the many observers witnessed what appeared to be the deployment of laser weapons emerging from a dozen or more openings inside the belly of the craft. Terror washed through the bodies of the military and press personnel who were helplessly huddled beneath the giant craft. They felt no better than sitting ducks ready to be slaughtered. Beams of hot piercing light flashed down around the frightened crowd stirring up hysteria and unleashed panic. Some of the more dedicated reporters remained with their cameras while others ran searching for safety. Military personnel guided the civilians away from the laser’s path ordering them to leave the area. Several civilians had to be plucked from the ground after having been knocked down by panic-stricken bystanders. When the dust and confusion began to settle, much to everyone’s surprise and relief they became aware of the fact that the aliens were not firing at them. They were using their laser beams to clear the clumps of trees that hindered them from making a smooth and unencumbered landing. Although the beams flashed off in the distance, the extreme heat that was released from each stream of light created a sauna affect for miles around. One by one army personnel found themselves

peeling off layers of sweat-drenched jackets and shirts hoping to find relief from an uncomfortable heat that had set into their skin. Large numbers of them fell to their knees gasping for air as they held their hands against their chests feeling as though their lungs were burning up. They were no longer consumed with welcoming back the lost humans. Instead, their only wish was to survive the wait. Off in the distance small bright lights began to grow as the object behind them steadily neared. When it finally arrived, it’s landing was rough and almost impossible due to the rugged dirt road which served as it’s only landing strip.

CHAPTER 30

As the small Twin Engine plane rolled to a gradual stop, Pilot Riley stared in disbelief at the sight off in the distance. He had been so wrapped up in his business at the Airfield over the past several days he had not been up-to-date on the details surrounding the alien detection. Now here he was sitting smack dab in the middle of the entire event as it was unfolding. The navy’s largest battleship could not come close to measuring up to this monster of a ship, mused Riley feeling his hands tremble. “Heh Mr. Riley!” called Jerry from behind. “Thanks for the ride, we’ve got to run. I’ll get in touch with you when this is all over.” As he pushed the door open he quickly added the words, ‘I hope’, then glancing over his shoulders he gave Allison and Dunken the thumbs up signal. By the time he planted his feet firmly on the ground he found himself and the plane surrounded by a mob of coughing and hysterical people. They pushed and pulled each other attempting to gain entry into the plane, totally oblivious to the other two people trying to exit through the same small door. “Heh, what’s going on here?” shouted Riley, feeling his plane shake underneath his feet. He diverted his focus from the alien craft to his immediate surroundings only to find his plane was being rocked by a mob of frightened people. “Stop it!” he shouted, but nobody listened. “Please, you’ve got to get us out of here. We can’t stand the heat any longer. It’s killing us,” pleaded the first woman who managed to jump on board. She was followed by several others including two men. All were of a news team who had been reporting the entire event since the craft first appeared. Riley watched as more people stumbled towards the plane. His small plane was quickly filled to capacity and to ensure safety standards remained in place he scrambled to the door and secured the lock. His heart sank as he heard the screams of desperate people begging to be rescued. Riley rested his forehead up against the door for a moment, long enough to whisper an apology and wish them good luck. Taking a deep breath he moved to the pilot’s seat and started up the engine. He maneuvered the plane slowly to avoid colliding with any bodies

that were roaming helplessly and scared in the darkness. As he lifted off the ground he took one last look behind him. It was a sight that he would never forget. Running frantically towards the clutter of military units and civilians that had meshed themselves together, Jerry, Allison, and Dunken searched relentlessly for the Command Center. It was imperative that they find whoever was in charge and divulge to them the alien’s true agenda before it was too late. A jeep carrying two soldiers hummed up from behind and as it began to move by, Jerry flagged the driver down. The jeep skidded to a stop a few feet ahead of the three strangers. “Yah, what is it?” asked the driver of the jeep. “Who’s in charge here, and where can I find him?” responded Jerry, his words blurting out with urgency. “General Mitchell, General Hicks, and Colonel Jackson. You’ll find them over by the Communications tent.” The driver raised his arm and pointed ahead to his right. “Thanks man. I appreciate the information,” said Jerry. “No problem; hop in and we’ll give you a ride. We’re heading that way ourselves,” stated the soldier. Pleased with their luck, Jerry, Dunken and Allison climbed into the back of the jeep. In less than a minute they arrived alongside what appeared to be the Communications tent. The driver of the jeep turned to his engers and with the nod of his head, indicated to them that they had arrived at their destination. He watched as they dismounted from the jeep before he drove off to park his vehicle. Jerry led the search party through the groups of military personnel and equipment until they approached a tent loaded with brass. Allison was the first to recognize General Mitchell, ing his face from their first meeting back in Washington. “Look!” she shouted to Jerry. “There’s Mitchell with the other two big guys.”

Before she could say another word, Jerry had already begun running in the General’s direction. Allison nudged Dunken and both followed close behind. As Jerry and the others approached at a quick pace, they were unexpectedly greeted by two MP’s who darted out in front of them separating them from the brass with weapons drawn. Stopping at the sight of the threatening weapons, Jerry immediately threw his hands up over his head assuring the MP’s they were of no threat to anyone. “We need to see General Mitchell, please, it’s important,” requested Jerry in his most serious tone of voice. “We have information involving this alien craft and it’s mission. There’s no more time to lose.” One MP remained in place while the other headed to the General’s tent. After a brief exchanging of words, the General looked out at Jerry and waved him over. He rushed forward with the others in tow. “General Mitchell sir, my name is Jerry Wilcox. We don’t have much time. We’ve got to prevent that ship from landing.” Jerry could see from the look on the General’s face that he was not being taken seriously. He had not counted on that reaction. “I don’t know who you are Mr. Wilcox, but this ship is going to land. It has cargo on board that we want,” stated the General. “But you don’t understand,” said Jerry overcome with emotion. “You have to believe me, this is not what it appears to be. If they land, my God, if they land General, it will be the beginning of the end of OUR life here on Earth.” “What are you ranting about Mr. Wilcox? The beginning of the end. Let’s get serious,” laughed General Hicks convinced that Jerry was just another raving lunatic. “You gotta listen to this guy General,” pressed Dunken. “He knows what he’s talking about. He’s…” Before Dunken was allowed to finish defending Jerry’s lucidness, a tall stout man ambled up attired in military garb. He stopped a few paces from the group. “He’s a spy gentlemen. His name is Jerry Wilcox and up until recently worked

for the FBI. However, he has been on the run since breaking into my office at the Defense Department after having stolen Top Secret information which he planned on selling to the Russians.” “That’s a lie General Bergoff!” shouted Jerry, “and you know it. You’re the one who has betrayed your country.” Colonel Jackson leaned over and whispered something into General Mitchell’s ear. Mitchell shook his head in agreement and immediately gave the MP’s the order to hold the prisoners at gun point. “You can’t do this!” Hollered Allison. “You’ve got to listen to Jerry. It’s Bergoff who’s the trader. He’s working for the aliens.” “Yah right,” chuckled Colonel Jackson. “It’s true damn it!” shouted Jerry ired by their stupidity. “Ask Bergoff where he’s been since this entire event began. He wasn’t anywhere to be found in Washington yesterday when we were under attack, was he? Why don’t you ask him where he was? And what about now. Where did he just come from? Go ahead ask him?” Jerry did make a good point. General Mitchell was called in because Bergoff could not be located when the event first occurred. He looked over at Bergoff who stood his ground with authority. “Well General? He does have a point there.” General Bergoff would not allow himself to be swayed. He remained in control and shrugged the question off as insignificant and a waste of valuable time. “We don’t have time for games gentlemen. The landing area is almost cleared. Our people will soon be home.” Allison thrust herself forward moving ed Jerry. Standing before the two Generals and one Colonel, she continued the assault. “There are no humans on that ship, they’re Hybrids, part human part alien. The humans are dead. Bergoff knows all about it, he’s been on that ship; ask him. Go ahead, ask him!” screamed Allison hysterically. General Mitchell felt compelled to ask Bergoff if he had in fact been on board the alien craft. “Well General? Could there be some truth hidden in all of this

nonsense? You have been missing lately.” Hesitating briefly in order to form a believable and logically acceptable excuse, General Bergoff finally spoke up with a plausible explanation. “I guess the cat is out of the bag now. I HAVE been on the alien craft since yesterday. I was intercepted by the President shortly after the alien craft began it’s attack at the warehouse on Madison. They needed a mediator to work out an amicable agreement for the safe return of these people. Unfortunately, the small craft in D.C. was not aware of that meeting.” “Oh really,” sneered Jerry. “If that’s the case, why wasn’t General Mitchell and the others here informed about this….this so-called meeting and plan?” “It was Top Secret Mr. Wilcox. Only a select few knew about it. There was no time for big announcements. As you are well aware of by now, the Zordons are pressed for time. It’s now or never,” remarked General Bergoff his eyes piercing through Jerry’s. “And as for this ridiculous fabrication and wild imagination involving Hybrids being on board, well little lady, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” General Mitchell felt his nerves tense up as he felt the tremendous heat sting his own lungs. Glancing at the weakened and pain-stricken people all around him, he couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable and uncertain about what the Zordon’s intentions really were. Before making a final decision he would have to General Bergoff’s explanation for being aboard the alien craft. He signaled to the sergeant in charge of Communications to patch him in with the President. Within minutes was made. “President, General Mitchell here. I have a situation here that requires your verification. I need to kno…..” Without warning the TV monitor went blank and voice turned to static. “What happened sergeant?” asked Mitchell with deep concern. “I’m not sure sir,” replied the sergeant. He manipulated the equipment attempting every means available to regain with the White House. Everything proved futile. “Well, I’m afraid you’ll just have to take my word for it Mitchell,” grinned General Bergoff.

“You can’t!” shouted Jerry. “He’s working with the aliens against us. We can’t allow that ship to land General. We’ve got two people in that ship right now trying to disable their nuclear power generator. Once they’ve accomplished that, then we can destroy them. We HAVE to wait for them to do their job first.” As Jerry tried to explain the situation, an MP arrived handing a piece of paper to Colonel Jackson. The Colonel stepped forward and showed the paper to General Mitchell. “Well Mr. Wilcox and associates. According to this printout we managed to receive before losing our Communications access, you Mr. Wilcox are considered a fugitive. You did in reality, as General Bergoff explained earlier, break into the Defense Department and steal Top Secret information. And your friends here are also wanted as coconspirators,” explained Mitchell feeling a bit more at ease. “You’re wrong, it was a set up. Look around you. If these aliens were to be trusted, why are they inflicting so much pain on these people?” growled Jerry becoming increasingly angry. “It’s an unfortunate side-affect caused by their lasers. It can’t be helped,” jeered General Bergoff. “Now, I hope you’ll agree with me gentlemen when I say it would be wise to keep these three under control until we’ve accomplished this mission. The authorities will want to deal with these spies later, don’t you think?” Having no secure compound available to keep the prisoners detained in, they were led to a nearby tent to wait out the remainder of the mission. They paced nervously inside the limited confines of their prison stopping occasionally to watch exhausted medics moving about at a steady and hurried pace, attending to endless complaints of pain and discomfort caused by the excruciating and persistent heat. The tension escalated when suddenly, their attention was drawn to a new and extremely loud rumble which roared out in the distance. Leaving his post, the MP on guard duty disappeared from sight ing fellow soldiers to satisfy his curiosity. Jerry and the others bolted from the unguarded tent moving to a nearby clearing to get a better view. At first the darkness prevented visual but as the rumble of engines neared and lights became more prominent, a new wave of

fear rushed through the veins of the three prisoners. They watched and listened as a dozen or more B-52 bombers made a steady approach. “Where the hell did THEY come from?” mumbled General Mitchell under his breath.” The fleet of B-52 bombers were dispatched by the President, launched from Louisiana carrying a full load of cruise missiles. After losing with the units in Del Rio, the President felt it necessary to send in some backups to ensure everyone’s safety. “Oh my God,” grumbled Jerry. “Heaven help us all if they attack.” “What was that you said?” asked General Mitchell as he walked up behind them. His eyes watched as the lights of the bombers disappeared above the massive craft. Jerry spun around to answer the General’s question. “If they blow up the space craft General, everyone here will be blown clear into the next state. The ship is powered by…” Jerry was not able to finish before General Mitchell interjected. “Is powered by an electrical current being transmitted by a larger craft sitting up in the Earth’s orbit. So all we have to do is disable it like we did the other one. We knock out it’s power interceptors and voila!” The General felt overly confident with the seemingly simple task. He had convinced himself that if the delivery of humans did not go as planned, destroying the enemy would be at their fingertips. “No General, not this time. This ship is equipped with it’s own power source. Nuclear power to be specific. It’s a floating time bomb. You destroy it, it’ll take us right along with it,” said Jerry with absolute certainty. “How do you know all this Mr. Wilcox? Were you also aboard this craft acting as a liaison?” The General’s voice was filled with sarcasm, not believing for one moment in the rare possibility. “No sir but one of the aliens informed me of that important detail. That’s why I’m here. To warn you not to attack.” “Oh for Pete sake,” sneered General Bergoff who had appeared from out of the

blue along with General Hicks and Colonel Jackson. “I hope you’re not taking any of this crap seriously Mitchell. Now the guy wants you to believe he’s befriended one of these aliens, the same aliens he’s trying to warn you not to trust. I don’t know about you, but I’ve heard about enough from this guy.” Allison thrust her fist out at General Bergoff totally disgusted by the man’s deceptiveness. Dunken grabbed Allison fearing that the General would lash back at her. “You pig!” shouted Allison. “You’re not going to get away with this.” Turning to General Mitchell she made one last attempt to win him over. “General Mitchell, don’t you me? I was with Dunken here and another guy and Marion Stevenson, a reporter from Chicago. We came to you when the small messenger craft attacked in Washington. It was our friend Bernard Watkins who told you how to disable and destroy the craft. ? If it wasn’t for us, Washington D.C. might not exist today.” General Mitchell closed his eyes searching his memory for recognition. When he opened his eyes he itted that he did not her specifically. People were roaming the streets in hysteria and panic and his mind was focused on the destruction taking place all around him. He did however the man who saved the day with his factual and life-saving information. “So his name was Bernard Watkins. Where is he now?” asked the General. “He’s one of the people on board that ship as we speak. He’s…” Allison stopped abruptly as she was startled by General Bergoff’s sudden movement. Bergoff lunged forward at Allison catching everyone off guard. Using his sharp reflexes, Jerry jumped to his right where an unsuspecting MP stood by waiting for orders. Catching the soldier by surprise, Jerry managed to snatch the rifle away from his slackened grip. As he retrieved the weapon, he cracked the butt of the rifle against the MP’s jaw sending him crashing to the ground. Taking his cue from Jerry, Dunken made a dive into a second MP knocking the rifle from his grasp. Allison dove to retrieve it. In seconds a loud boom echoed in the night sky as a laser beam emanating from the Mother Ship flashed upward hitting a B-52 bomber dead on. As the bomber exploded on impact, the sky lit up to reveal the other bombers regrouping for another attack. “Now do you believe me General?” shouted Jerry. “They can’t be trusted.”

“What do you expect you damn fool?” hissed General Bergoff. “They were being threatened by heavily armed aircraft. It’s only natural that they’d want to defend themselves.” Jerry stood his ground adamantly. “The bombers have to back off!” Receiving a hard blow against his chest, Jerry suddenly felt the wait of a body come crashing down on top of him. General Bergoff struggled to gain control of the rifle and when it rested firmly in his grip, he motioned Jerry to stand. Aiming the weapon directly at his prisoner, Bergoff ordered Allison to drop her weapon. She hesitated only a moment before complying with his demand. He grinned in victory until seconds later a shot rang out and his limp body fell to the ground. All eyes turned to look in the direction where the gunshot originated from. The Communications sergeant stood silent, his face drained of it’s color. “I’m sorry sir, but he grabbed my gun from my belt.” Everyone turned their attention to Dunken who was standing motionless, still holding the gun that killed General Bergoff. Sensing that Dunken would need backup, Jerry picked up the rifle that had fallen near his feet and aimed it in General Mitchell’s direction. “Now General, we’ve got to make our guys back off,” stammered Jerry, his mouth feeling exceptionally dry. “If they don’t, they’ll be annihilated.” “You’ve just murdered a General, and you’re expecting us to trust you?” “You really don’t have much choice General,” stated Jerry still pointing the rifle. While he waited for the General’s answer, two medics arrived with a stretcher to remove Bergoff’s body. As they turned his body around, General Mitchell’s decision had become much easier. Looking at the dead man’s lifeless form, they stared in horror as a clear liquid with an unusual odor oozed out from the wound, seeping like water into the dirt. General Mitchell raised his voice loud and clear sending out verbal orders to his disabled Communications unit to make the rounds, notifying the other units to stand down holding all fire until receiving further orders from him personally. Pointing up into the sky to the north, Allison pointed out a formation of B-52 bombers that were approaching ready for battle. Jerry dropped his rifle to the

ground as he and the others moved closer to the Generals and the Colonel as they watched helplessly at the assault. They had no way of calling them off. Knowing how powerful the bombers were with their underwing pylons loaded with short-range attack missiles, and their forward-looking infrared and low-light-level TV sensors which gave them the ability to fly low, they could easily outwit and possibly destroy the Mother Ship leaving a wake of destruction in it’s path. As the lead plane roared above the hovering craft, the pilot waited until he was precisely midway before releasing a line of missiles which struck the alien’s craft exploding one by one. Each one contained 500 pounds of explosives, yet no damage to the outer shell could be detected. Without warning, an unfamiliar blip on the navigator’s radar screen appeared. The blip was followed by another and another. The fire control systems operator locked onto the foreign objects and opened fire with four 50-caliber machine guns. The bomber expelled 800 rounds of ammunition none of which stopped the assault launched from the alien craft. The plane’s captain attempted to veer away, executing a steep turn to avoid impact but the huge heavy plane could not move away fast enough. With a sudden jolt on impact, the plane’s left wing was struck. The huge plane began to shake as all four port engines were knocked out and another burst into flames. The plane began to fall like a rock losing altitude quickly allowing the six-man crew no time and distance to eject to safety. The on-lookers from the ground lowered their heads with grief and disappointment as the bomber crashed into a ball of flames. They had no idea how lucky they were to have failed. As another B-52 attack went into motion, the electrical field surrounding the space craft grew in intensity. This time the bomber going in for the attack was escorted on either side by other bombers ready to unload their missiles simultaneously, impacting at different points in hopes of weakening the craft’s structure. As they made their approach, three bright rays of light streaked out towards them and in three swift and silent bursts, the incredible heat from the lasers disintegrated the B-52’s in mid air. It was more than the ground units could bear. Ignoring the orders given to stand down by General Mitchell, one by one the ground units prepared for battle. The artillery units responded by unleashing their entire supply of 1,000 surface-to-air missiles and an endless barrage of antiaircraft fire. Their efforts were futile. One by one the B-52’s fell from the sky. The aliens then focused their attack towards the ground, their heat intensified lasers scorching the ground at it’s point of impact, taking with it all soldiers within it’s path. As the lasers emerged from openings along the bottom edges of the large craft at regular intervals, the heat generated by them seemed to steal away the human’s

life-ing oxygen. People began to panic as pain ripped deeper through their chest cavities, some dropped to the ground gasping for one last drop of air, while others struggled to put distance between themselves and the craft that loomed above their heads. Jerry, Allison and Dunken slowly began feeling the same rawness invading their airways, and they too began peeling away unnecessary pieces of clothing as they felt their skin burn from the enormous heat. Jerry’s fear of a major nuclear explosion coming from the Mother Ship no longer seemed probable. She had proven herself indestructible. It was all up to Bernard Watkins and Marion now. If they couldn’t destroy the ship, no one could. Amidst the hubbub and hysteria loud cries of excitement could be heard shouting. “Look up there! They’re coming!” And, “Help is on the way! We’re going to be rescued!” Looking up in the light-streaked night sky, two flights of AH-64 Apache helicopters each led by 2 MH-53 Pave Low helicopters from the 21st Special Operations Squadron swooped in making an offensive strike. Unbeknownst to everyone on the ground, the crews of the Apaches and Pave Lows were able to pick up transmissions made by the B-52 pilots while they made their assaults on the enemy craft. The Pave Lows swept in employing their long-range navigation capabilities to assist the Apaches in locating the alien’s weapons bunkers. Military ground personnel took it upon themselves to continue whatever firepower was available to them in order to keep the alien craft busy employing their lasers. Each time a laser was fired the MH-53 Pave Lows were able to lock in the position of the bunker from where the laser originated from, and giving the Apaches the coordinates, the Apaches were able to lock onto their targets and disable the laser. One by one the lasers were destroyed. Just as the humans began to claim victory, they were taken by surprise with another turn of events. The Mother Ship began to waver and slowly it began it’s final descent. The Apaches and Pave Lows began to reposition their assault by striking from above, but it was to no avail. Just as the B-52’s had failed, so too did the warfare helicopters. The Commanding officer in charge of the Apache Fleet and the officer in charge of the Pave Low fleet immediately saw the need to evacuate the helpless people who were suffering needlessly. They called in their pilots giving them the orders to evacuate the area as quickly as possible. All equipment and personal belongings were to be left behind. Camera crews attempted to hide their cameras beneath their clothing in hopes of saving their incredible ordeal on tape, but after

thorough frisking carried out by serious copilots, they were discovered and promptly ordered to discard them. Once loaded to full capacity, the helicopters took off with haste heading for the nearest town some twenty miles southeast of the Reservation. The Zordons observed what was transpiring beyond the outer walls of their craft. Having had their lasers destroyed they were more vulnerable to attack in the air. The Zordon Commander decided that playing dead for the moment would perhaps work in his favor. With the military disabled and clearing the area of human occupation, there was still room to succeed in carrying out their agenda. Once the hatches are opened and their cargo is set free, integration would ultimately take it’s course. Even if only a fraction of Hybrids were to survive, successful reproduction was now a genetic reality.

CHAPTER 31

Inside the grounded Mother Ship, Bernard Watkins and Marion Stevenson frantically made their way through the winding and narrow ventilation ducks in their desperate search for the ship’s nuclear power generator. It had served well once before as a concealing escape route for Marion and the others, and since other options giving them quick mobility throughout the ship were practically nonexistent, it seemed only logical to utilize that same path again. When they first appeared inside the ship with the two small aliens after having overpowered them inside Riley’s small Twin Engine plane, Bernard and Marion were not surprised to see a small army of worker aliens standing by the transporting platform ready to greet them; all armed with weapons. When the four bodies materialized on the transporting platform, the two captive aliens were positioned with their backs to the spray gun which Bernard was holding firmly in a threatening gesture. If the welcoming committee felt any real concern for their fellow cohorts, it was hidden behind their blank, unemotional stares which was a normal inbred characteristic which they all carried. Bernard focused his energy on his thoughts, concentrating on sending the aliens the message to back off to avoid any injury to the aliens on the platform. However, his expectations were met with much surprise. Without hesitation, one of the aliens raised his weapon and fired on his own kind, hitting one of the alien hostages point blank on the chest area. Without a moment’s hesitation, Bernard jumped from the platform dragging Marion with him by the arm. He yanked the military pistol from inside the waist of his tros and in the same instant slapped the spray gun inside the palm of Marion’s trembling hand. “Here!” he shouted to Marion. “Take this and use it, NOW!” As his commanding words echoed inside Marion’s spinning head, he raised the pistol and fired at a large control covering the wall directly ahead of him. In the same instant, Marion began a wild, unaimed assault on the aliens who’s reflexes and coordination lacked speed and meticulous mobilization. Within seconds, sparks from escaping energy and clouds of white smoke began seeping out from the

damaged control shorting out the lights. Whispering to Marion, Bernard urged her to follow close behind, keeping low to the floor at all times. Having no knee ts, it was difficult for the worker aliens to maneuver themselves in a low-creeping position. As Bernard and Marion neared the door, they both suddenly realized that the loss in power made it impossible to use the normal exit. Marion placed her hand gently on Bernard’s arm indicating to him to stop for a moment, then she placed her finger over his lips urging him to listen. In the eerie silence, a smooth and steady shuffling of feet could be heard moving in their direction. The aliens first instinct also prompted them to head for the door assuming it was the only means of escape. Their movement was slow as they dragged their feet along the smooth steel surface inch by inch. Marion nudged Bernard and whispered close to his ear. “I’ve got an idea. The air ventilation system runs through the entire ship, doesn’t it?” Not waiting for Bernard to answer, she continued. “We’ve got to find the vent that leads into it. The only problem is, where do we go once we find it?” Bernard had the answer. “It leads into the cooling tower. It’s perfect!” “The cooling tower? What’s that?” asked Marion curiously. “We don’t have time to discuss it right now. What we need to do is get into that ventilation system before we’re discovered. As long as the power remains out in this area, these guys can’t get out and help can’t get in. All we have to do is make sure they don’t follow us through the vent.” Bernard began crawling, keeping close to the wall. “Come on Marion, we haven’t any time to waste.” By the time the aliens had reached the door, there was no sign of their prisoners. They stopped in the darkness clumsily bumping into each other. They remained huddled in a group, confused and unable to continue their search without the aid of light. Bernard and Marion’s search for the ventilation vent was easier than expected. Without the aliens trailing close behind, it allowed them to extend their search upward reaching up while on their tip-toes. Running their hands exhaustively, scouring every inch of the cool steel walls, Marion could hardly contain her excitement when her fingers trailed over the bumpy strips of metal that formed the grate leading into the air duct.

In order for her not to lose track of the spot where the vent was located, it was necessary for her to raise the volume of her voice slightly to inform Bernard of her discovery. By the time she had manipulated the grate’s secure positioning so that it popped off, Bernard had already arrived to the spot where Marion was standing rubbing her head. As it happened, the grate popped from it’s resting place and soared down from the wall above her head making with a thud, against her now tender forehead. “Marion, you’re going to have to boost me up first. Once I’m up there, it’ll be easier for me to pull your weight up into the duct.” Not wasting any unnecessary time, they proceeded with speed using Bernard’s suggestion. Once inside the air duct, Bernard hesitated. “What’s wrong Bernard?” whispered Marion. “Why are you stopping?” “I’m trying to get my bearings. As I mentioned before, I’ve only been on this ship a couple of times. I’m trying to recollect where everything is so that we head out in the right direction. Marion waited patiently as Bernard mumbled to himself pointing his finger in various directions. “Okay,” he stated with absolute certainty. “We’ve got to head in this direction.” He pointed his finger over Marion’s shoulder indicating a change in direction. Compressing her body into a tight ball, she managed to change her position with only minimal difficulty which left her in the lead. “Now that we’re here Bernard, could you explain to me what it is we’re looking for?” Marion twisted her head so that she could see Bernard’s face, noticing for the first time, the small, dim green light that threw their shadows along the edges of the duct. “The ventilation system connects up with the nuclear power generator’s cooling tower,” stated Bernard. “It’s a large thick-steel corridor, more like a chimney where the waste steam is condensed back into water, and where large clouds of steam are allowed to escape through it’s top which is dispersed out into the atmosphere. If we can get into the maintenance shaft which runs parallel to the cooling tower, that’ll be our ticket into the containment room where the nuclear power generator is housed.” “Then what?” asked Marion.

“Well, when we get there, if we get there, it’ll be easier for me to explain the rest of it,” replied Bernard. “Now, let’s get moving.” They crawled through the tight confines of the winding tunnels as quickly as possible, only stopping occasionally to reassess their direction. Absorbed in their quest, they were totally unaware that the disabled transporter room had set off an alarm, alerting the ship’s control room and it’s staff of an unexpected problem. Control room instruments detected a gradual loss of power stemming from the main transporter room which was beginning to effect other areas of the ship. A crew of worker aliens were sent to the location to investigate and report the cause of damage, but immediately upon arriving, found the door jammed. The findings were instantly transmitted by way of their telepathic abilities to the ship’s commander who without haste, dispatched a new crew of workers armed with high-powered lasers which would be used to blast the door open. Once inside, the workers educated in the craft’s mechanical operations would be sent in to repair the damage and restore full power. The cause of the distressing situation would then be dealt with accordingly. Fortunately for Bernard and Marion, their arrival on board the Mother Ship had gone unnoticed by the commander and his aides, as they were submerged knee-deep in military assaults by General Mitchell’s ground units and the Air Force’s tactical air attacks. Marion had begun to succumb to heat-induced exhaustion. Her muscles were weakening making it more and more difficult to continue the fast pace forward. “Come on Marion,” urged Bernard. “You can do it, we’re almost there, just a little bit further.” He only hoped that she could hang in there. Her weariness was very apparent through her moans and sighs and her slowing pace. Bernard reached forward and placed his large strong hand on Marion’s left shoulder. “I know you’re tired, but it’s all up to us. We can do it if we just hang in a bit.” Marion stopped to rest. The air was becoming noticeably thin making it difficult to breath. She envied Bernard as she looked at his easy, unhindered breathing. “How do you do it?” she asked feeling a wave of light-headedness come over her. “What do you mean?” Bernard asked. “How can you keep going at this pace without begging for air? It’s killing me in here,” replied Marion trying to fill her chest with air.

Bernard managed to relieve himself of a short quiet snicker. “When you’ve been on a space craft as long as I’ve been, you learn to adjust.” He watched Marion’s facade soften with a thoughtfulness that he had never before witnessed since being in her presence. It was then that he first realized how quickly his feelings for her had grown since their first meeting back in Chicago. Amidst the dim soft light that glowed around them, Bernard Watkins was certain that he detected a hint of emotion flowing back at him. Marion smiled at him feeling a sudden flush emerge in her face. Not from the heat she surmised, but from an emotional connection that was forming between her and the unusual alien, that for whatever reason, had become her ally. She couldn’t deny that she found the alien attractive. “Marion, hello? Are you with me?” asked Bernard nudging her arm gently in the attempt to regain her attention. Marion shook the mist from her thoughts, realizing that she had allowed herself to drift into an area that was off limits. “I’m sorry Bernard, I’m just a bit lightheaded. It’s the lack of fresh air,” she grumbled. “We should be there soon. Listen. Do you hear it?” He sat in silence and listened carefully to a faint deep drone filtering into the ventilation duct from up ahead in the distance. “It’s the nuclear generator Marion. I recognize the sound. Come on, let’s get going.” Marion felt the adrenaline stir up inside of her giving her a renewed source of energy. They moved further and further until they turned a corner. It was then that the end of their quest was in sight. Up ahead in full view was a wider, larger opening which entered into a shaft of some sort. As they approached the opening, Marion moved to the side allowing Bernard to by. He stretched his neck out beyond the ventilation duct and inspected the shaft. He retracted himself from the shaft’s opening, and turning to look at Marion, smiled victoriously. “This is it Marion; we’ve found what we were looking for.” In a moment of intense excitement, Bernard lunged forward planting his lips on Marion’s startled mouth. Although caught off guard by his surprise assault, Marion could not bring herself to back away. She couldn’t deny the fact that she enjoyed the kiss. It felt just right.

When the unleashed emotions subsided, both Bernard and Marion sat motionless and speechless staring at each other. Jolted back to reality, they jerked to attention when a loud hissing thrush streaked upward beyond the far wall of the shaft. Marion jumped holding her chest as her heart pounded out of control. “It’s okay Marion. Don’t worry. That was the steam being expelled through the cooling tower next to this maintenance shaft. We’ve got to climb down the shaft until we reach the duct leading into the containment room. Once we get in there we can sabotage the generator. When that’s taken care of, the ship won’t have the power to defend itself without the use of it’s electromagnetic force field, and if I know my aliens as well as I think I do, they won’t be in any condition to retaliate.” Bernard’s statement stirred up a new well of curiosity and questions, but Marion knew NOW was not the time to dwell on them. Looking straight ahead, she inhaled deeply as a light wave of air brushed against her face. Following Bernard’s lead, she began moving forward. When she reached the edge of the air duct leading into the maintenance shaft, she waited and watched as Bernard cautiously began the steep descent down the dimly lit ageway. The steel rungs which provided upward and downward access within the maintenance shaft were excessively narrow and spread unusually far apart making the age even more treacherous. Marion waited until Bernard was at a safe distance before beginning her arduous descent. As she took her first step down, her eyes were automatically drawn to the seemingly bottomless pit beneath her. She had never been afraid of heights before, but somehow, not seeing any sign of a solid surface below her only served to instill a new sense of fear in her. It was this newly acquired fear which caused her fingers to stiffen and tighten their grip around the handrails which were systematically placed along both sides of the rungs. Off in the distance she could hear Bernard’s voice echo against the walls urging her to catch up. Resisting the temptation to glance down again, Marion stared at the wall directly in front of her while concentrating on her grip in hopes of releasing them. It wasn’t until her hands began to tingle from the onsetting of numbness that she felt her muscles relax and her grip loosen. Keeping her eyes focused on the rungs as they ed at eye level, Marion managed to proceed at a steady pace down the shaft. Along the way she noticed that approximately every 50 feet or so there was an opening leading into the ventilation system just like the one they had come out of. Just inside the shaft at those particular locations there appeared to be an array of electrical instrument s. She surmised that each vent led onto another level of the ship, and adding up all the vents that she

had already ed by, the deck they were searching for couldn’t be much further, she hoped. Much to her relief, Marion’s supposition had been correct. Only two more vents ed by before she caught sight of Bernard crouching inside the third familiar opening. “We’ve made it,” called out Bernard as he watched Marion approach from above. “This duct will take us where we want to go. Hurry! Let’s get this show on the road.” Marion proceeded with caution to avoid losing her footing. As she neared the opening, Bernard was already reaching out to help her enter. Moving quickly, they made their way through the winding air duct stopping occasionally above grates leading into various rooms. Peering through the grates one by one, Bernard scanned the area below them hoping to find the containment room. The enormity of the craft became more prevalent with every new room they came across. Marion’s body was throbbing with aches and pains, especially her knees from having to crawl on them continually. Her pace began to slow until eventually sharp needle-like pains piercing through her knees forced her to stop to inspect the damage. Several layers of skin had worn away leaving her knees raw and laced with blood. Seeing her condition seemed to worsen the pain. Noticing that her stop had gone unnoticed, Bernard had continued the trek forward leaving a wide open gap between the two of them which left her feeling uncomfortably anxious. Blocking out the pain, Marion scrambled back on her hands and knees picking up the pace and gradually closed up the gap. It seemed only moments before Bernard pulled his eyes away from another grate and grinned with enormous delight. “Here it is Marion, the containment room.” Without a moment to waste, Bernard made sure the coast was clear then began tapping repeatedly, applying enough pressure to the grate until it popped off. He grabbed the edge of the metal plate before it had a chance to drop noisily to the floor below. Had he allowed that to happen it would alert the generator’s maintenance crew who were always close at hand. Bernard stretched his head past the vent’s opening and quickly took a visual inventory of the number of worker aliens that stood between them and the generator. Turning to Marion, Bernard raised his brow and said. “There’s six little guys in here. We’re going to have to use the spray gun. I’m afraid if I use the pistol, the workers in the control room next door will hear it. We’d end up with more

trouble.” Without discussing a mutually agreed upon plan, Marion gladly handed Bernard the spray gun which she had been carrying inside her pocket. Extending his head and shoulders out through the vent opening, Bernard took aim and fired. As one alien dropped, Bernard fired again and again taking the aliens by surprise. When the last deformed creature fell to the floor, Bernard eased Marion’s legs out through the air duct first then gently and carefully lowered her to the floor. Following close behind, Bernard dropped himself feet first to the floor. “Come on Marion. Give me a hand. We need to drag these guys out of sight just in case one of the others come in.” Pointing to a large storage container, Bernard began dragging the first alien to it’s position where he stashed the unconsciense form out of sight. Marion proceeded to do the same. When the task was complete, Marion glanced around in total amazement at the gigantic machine. “God this thing is huge!” she exclaimed. “I can see how it’s capable of moving a ship this size. The power this thing must have….it’s….it’s…” Marion couldn’t find the words to complete her sentence. She could feel the power vibrate below her feet. “Uranium is a powerful ore and it’s easy to obtain, not only here on Earth but out on other planets as well.” Pointing to the far left corner of the room, Bernard took Marion by the arm and motioned her to follow. “Over here is where the worker aliens convert the uranium into a gas. Once they accomplish that, it’s put into a centrifuge where it spins separating the Isotopes. It’s converted into a black powder known as uranium dioxide.” Leading Marion to another work area on the opposite side of the large room, Bernard continued to explain the energy-making process. His excitement overflowed as he spoke. It was clearly obvious to Marion that Bernard’s acquired knowledge in Chemistry and Physics gave him great pleasure. “As I was saying,” stated Bernard proudly. “The aliens turn the uranium dioxide into small pellets then pack them into tubes. They’re bundled into larger tubes and made ready to put into the reactor.” “Wow,” whispered Marion to herself mildly impressed at the alien’s stolen knowledge. “What would the real Bernard Watkins think about all this?”

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” asked Bernard. “Oh nothing. I was just talking to myself,” replied Marion feeling a bit embarrassed. “Shouldn’t we be doing something?” “Yes, you’re right. Unfortunately we can’t do much out here. We have to get into the next room, the reactor floor. It’ll give us access to the fuel rods and reactor core. If we can jam just one of the fuel rods long enough for it to shut the reactor down for 12 minutes, the rest will fall into place.” “Why 12 minutes?” asked Marion somewhat puzzled. “What will happen in just 12 minutes?” Bernard grinned devilishly. “You’ll have to wait and see. Right now we have work to do.” They crept up to a large window that had the same texture as glass but according to Bernard it was an almost indestructible form of plastic. Peering through it they discovered at least nine worker aliens tending to the control s which were heavily assembled with instruments tracking every detail of the operating mechanisms. Bernard found it necessary to warn Marion that if there was any sign of danger such as overheating of the core or unauthorized tampering, the instruments would identify the problem immediately and sound the alarm. Locking her eyes on Bernard, lines of concern formed across Marion’s forehead. “So how do you propose to sabotage this thing without giving us away?” Before Bernard could answer, a loud shrill alarm filtered through the entire spacecraft. Within seconds an authoritative voice rang out above the alarm. “This is Chirno, commander of the Mother Ship. We know you are on board Miss Stevenson. It would be wise to give yourself up. If you do not, you will be made to regret your decision. This I promise you. You have 15 of your Earth minutes to reveal yourself.” Marion felt a wave of goosebumps race up her spine. “What are we going to do now?” she asked Bernard as her body trembled out of control. “He’s giving you 15 minutes. All we need is 12 minutes. The first thing we have to do is disable the doors so we don’t receive any uninvited guests, then we have

to get rid of the nine trouble makers in there.” “So what’s the plan?” asked Marion. “Who’s got time for a plan,” jeered Bernard. He smacked the controls by the door and as it flashed open, Bernard ran in shouting at the top of his lungs waving his arms in the air. He was received just as he planned. The aliens turned clumsily around to face the clamor. Bernard waved his pistol and the spray gun in the air for Marion to see, and immediately she understood his gesture. She reached her hand out catching the spray gun as it came soaring through the air towards her. Without any prompting, Marion took aim and fired, missing her target only once, then hitting the remaining aliens head on. Bernard used his pistol to knockout the door control so that help could not arrive and gain access in time to stop him from disabling the fuel rod. As he was about to head for the reactor, Bernard caught sight of two aliens approaching Marion from behind. Her attention was focused on the alien in her sight not aware that she had lost track of two others. Bernard shouted out a warning to Marion and as she turned to face him, she was thrown into a state of shock when it appeared that Bernard was aiming the pistol in her direction. Instinctively her reflexes took charge, and in an act of self-preservation, Marion lunged out with the spray gun, firing it at Bernard. With instant foresight, Bernard plunged himself to the floor missing impact by a split second. As he looked up shrouded with panic, his eyes darkened with anger. He raised the pistol and fired repeatedly. He pulled himself up along the edge of a nearby work table then hurried towards Marion’s lifeless body. When he arrived he dropped down on his knees and in one swoop of his hands, scooped Marion up in his arms and embraced her close to his chest.

CHAPTER 32

Time was running out fast. Bernard moved Marion’s body out from amidst the puddle of warm sticky liquid and placed her on top of one of the work tables before setting to work. He scanned the reactor over thoroughly and suddenly realized there was one other means of executing his plan. He could break the magnetic field which in turn would prevent the flow of electric current which is what powered the craft and instituted all life on board the ship. It would take less time then jamming the fuel rod. Running back out to the power generator, Bernard frantically searched for the mechanism which housed the current producer. Unable to find it by visual inspection, he raced over to the control where a computer diagram showed a dissected version of the entire nuclear power generator. It was clearly labeled in alien dialect. Trailing his finger back and forth covering the entire unit, Bernard inhaled deeply holding in the air for an extra moment as his eyes stared at a small dot on the diagram. He expelled the air from within his chest then spun himself around ready to begin. Finding the location of the current producer without further difficulty, Bernard pushed a small red button above a heavy steel compartment which gently ejected the mechanism forward making it easily accessible. He watched as a large cobalt wheel rotated rapidly moving a coil inside the perimeter of two attracting magnets. The coil was red hot as electrical currents generated through it ing into the circuits by way of two heavy rectangular slip rings. From there the currents were discharged out into the reactor. In order for him to shut down the reactor, Bernard had to find a way to stop the flow of electrical currents. That could be accomplished by stopping the cobalt wheel from rotating. Running around the room nervously, Bernard searched the work tables and inside the storage containers until he found a long steel cylinder used in the making of uranium dioxide. Gripping it firmly in his hand, he ran back to the current producer and with enormous effort, he wedged the cylinder in-between the rotating wheel and the attracting magnets. The rapid spinning wheel attempted with great force to dislodge the strange and displaced cylinder but slowly gave in thanks to Bernard’s prevailing strength and determined pursuance. As the gears and wheels began to unwillingly slow, the scraping and whining of steel on steel caused Bernard to squeeze his eyes tightly

together while raising his shoulders up close to his ears. Through the plastic window, billowing clouds of steam rose towards the ceiling and the control room alarm saturated the space around him. From out in the corridor, loud explosive clamor permeated through the thick heavy door. In seconds an explosion shook the room and the floor beneath Bernard’s feet as a crew of Hybrids forced themselves in, climbing in through the ragged edged door. It was over. There was nothing more that Bernard could do. Time had run out, so it appeared. He raised his hands above his head in defeat and stood silently waiting for his instant execution as a trader. The Hybrid in charge of the group raised his weapon; a military pistol similar to the one that Bernard had been carrying. Bernard shook his head with disgust and mumbled under his breath. “Armed and ready thanks to General Bergoff, America’s trusted defender.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at the whole idea. “Okay guys, what are you waiting for? I’m all yours,” sneered Bernard waiting for the gun to be fired. He watched as the Hybrid placed his finger on the trigger and applied pressure to his grip. Staring at the trigger finger he suddenly closed his eyes with fear. A shot rang out and a body dropped to the cold hard floor. Bernard opened his eyes to find the bullet was not meant for him. Instead, the Hybrid aiming the gun was now lying face down in his own warm body fluids. Another Hybrid raised his weapon instantly but before he pulled the trigger, a tall thin Zordon dressed in a tight-fitting uniform entered the room accompanied by another Zordon of the same race who was dressed less formally in a loosefitting robe. The Zordon in uniform spoke telepathically to the other and immediately the Zordon attired in the robe moved toward the current producer. The Zordon in charge looked at Bernard shaking his head with disappointment then glanced at the Hybrid next to him giving him the order to destroy the prisoner. As the Hybrid aimed his weapon an amazing development exploded throughout the room. Electrical currents emerged from within the alien’s bodies encoming them entirely in bright bursts of electrical waves. The Hybrids hollered out in pain as the sensors implanted in their heads short-circuited, exploding in their brains. The two tall Zordons revealed no emotions, they stood immobilized, their eyes staring blankly at Bernard while their bodies began to weaken then slump. They were merely manufactured humanoid androids.

Bernard stood reveling in satisfaction. He could only imagine what was transpiring throughout the entire ship at that very moment. He grinned with pleasure as he thought of the fourth of July. Each and every Zordon aboard the Mother Ship including the army of Hybrids were having the life drained out of them in one form or another. As he watched the last body fall lifelessly to the floor, Bernard pointed his finger at the army’s failed leader and victoriously blurted out the words, ‘your 12 minutes are up’. The pleasure only lasted a few moments before he sighed and closed his eyes. His nerves were beginning to fray. Lost in a sudden flow of emotions he was suddenly startled by yet another surprise attack from behind. This time it was much gentler. Bernard turned himself around pleasantly surprised to see a soft smiling face. It was Marion Stevenson. “Well Bernard. Aren’t you going to thank me for saving your life? That Hybrid would have nailed you right between the eyes had I not intervened.” Marion jested playfully with Bernard forgetting for a moment what had happened to her. “Thanks Marion. One good deed deserves another,” he replied jesting right along with her. Marion stopped and considered the entire ordeal and eventually her memory came drifting back. “You….you…you rotten pig you. You tried to kill me, didn’t you?” “Wait a minute, stop right there will you. You were the one who tried getting rid of me, . Remind me never to put a gun in your hand again,” replied Bernard filling his words with sarcasm. “What are you talking about? You were getting ready to blow me away, that’s why I fired at you,” stated Marion firmly. “Miss Stevenson, just in case you’re interested in what really happened, let me explain it to you, okay?” said Bernard. Marion couldn’t find a reason to deny him the chance to clear himself, so she crossed her arms in front of her chest and began tapping her foot on the floor. “You were so busy aiming and firing to the front of you that you neglected to check your rear on occasion. I was pointing my gun at two little Zordons who were moving in on you from the back. And, just in case you’d like to thank me

for my services, I’d like you to know that I blew both of them away for you. You Miss Stevenson fainted during the entire event. I picked you up off the floor and placed you on the table.” Marion considered his words thoughtfully and realized that she had made a bad mistake. “Well, you know if I did hit you with the spray gun, you’d eventually come to again. It’s not like I would have killed you,” snickered Marion. “Thanks for those comforting words. However, if you had succeeded in knocking me out, who the hell would have sabotaged the generator and put an end to all this insanity? You perhaps?” Bernard felt his nerves and muscles begin to relax. He felt perfectly comfortable around Marion. “Well, now that we’ve worked all that out, what do we do now? Do we just walk out from the ship and leave it behind?” asked Marion on a more serious tone. “That would be the easiest thing to do but I’m not certain it would be the best thing. You know how the military is when it comes to UFO’s, and then there’s the scientific community. Hell, what a picnic they’d have dissecting all these creatures. God, not to mention what hideous path it would lead our own scientists on after discovering the genetic possibilities, playing God and creating new life.” Bernard paused at the thought which made him shiver. “Life without a soul.” “What do you mean by that Bernard?” asked Marion genuinely interested. “Look around you Marion. These Zordons aren’t real. Haven’t you noticed? They don’t eat or drink to survive. They don’t have bones inside their bodies, surely you noticed these things while you were held captive,” answered Bernard. “I still don’t get it. I saw you eat and drink real food back in that all-night restaurant in Washington,” said Marion baffled beyond words. “Haven’t you figured it out yet? I would have thought a professional reporter like you could see past the shadows. I’m not an alien. I’ve never been an alien for crying out loud!” shouted Bernard. “But you can’t exist. You disappeared a long time ago. Even if you were still alive, you’d be really old. You haven’t aged in all these years. How do you explain it?” retorted Marion, “and what were you doing on the spacecraft?”

“When they abducted me they…..” Before he could finish, both he and Marion were knocked off balance by a strong jolt coming from the port side of the craft. Bernard grabbed Marion’s hand and headed for the door. “We’ve got to get to the ship’s controls. If this ship is like the Cybercom, it’ll have a self-destruct mechanism that can be armed manually.” “But won’t it need power to function?” shouted Marion over the thundering bursts of military munitions being dropped above their heads. “Under normal circumstances you’re absolutely correct. However, in a pending disaster, in order for the aliens to protect their knowledge and secrets, they’ve rigged the trigger with an auxiliary power unit. We’re going to have to climb up the maintenance shaft to get to the controls. The transporters are out.” Bernard didn’t stop to debate the issue. “Oh God, you can’t be serious. I can’t…” Realizing that she had no other choice, Marion proceeded to follow Bernard. They climbed into the nearest air duct and crawled at top speed towards the shaft. Once there, they hurried upward until Bernard finally veered off into another air duct. Marion tried her best to keep up. As she approached the opening, she threw her left leg out positioning it on the edge of the entrance. As she let go of the handrail with her right hand, a sudden jolt shook the ship causing Marion to lose her footing. Her body slid down, her weight being held by only her left hand which was struggling to hold it’s grip on the handrail. Overcome with panic and fear, Marion began shouting hysterically, calling Bernard to help her. She was relieved when she heard his voice call down to her telling her to hold on. He reached down and placed a firm grip on Marion’s right hand and while she still held onto the railing with her left hand, Bernard began pulling her up until she was able to plant her feet back on the rungs. He remained in place ready to grab her if she needed further assistance. When she finally entered the air duct, her entire body was draped with sweat. “Thanks Bernard,” she whispered. “I could have fallen.” “I wouldn’t let that happen,” smiled Bernard. They continued on until they located the flight deck with all the controls. By the time their feet were back on the floor, the military had regrouped and a new force of F-16’s and a half a dozen B-2 Stealth bombers had been dispatched to the scene with orders to destroy the alien craft. Not knowing that the aliens had

been destroyed, they unleashed successive rounds of missiles and bombs which surprisingly enough began to rip away sections of the alien craft. Bernard worked feverishly in locating the self-destruct mechanism. When he finally found it’s position it took him less than 5 minutes to set the system up. Having everything in place, Marion trailed close behind Bernard who headed straight for the door. There was only one problem. Without power, the door was not capable of functioning. Steadily the craft was being torn apart around them. They stood by the door helplessly trapped wondering what was going to kill them; their own military forces or the craft’s self-destruct mode which they themselves armed. “We’ve got to keep going Marion. Somewhere inside this ship there’s got to be a big enough puncture to escape through. The missiles are having no problem penetrating this can now that it doesn’t have it’s electromagnetic shield to protect it.” Marion raced up and down the corridors alongside Bernard searching for that exit. Just when their hope was running out, a blast ripped through the aft section spewing fragments of steel and other foreign materials out in their direction. Bernard threw himself at Marion knocking her face down onto the floor and using his body, shielded her from the flying objects. When the dust had settled, Bernard helped Marion to her feet and assisted her to the newly formed door. The steel was hot from the recent impact making it necessary for Bernard and Marion to push the scraps away with their feet so that they could through to the outside. Off in the distance the sun was beginning to rise and a bright orange hue caressed the early morning sky. It was a sight neither of them thought they would ever see. High-pitched whistles streaked relentlessly all around them as they moved away from the wreckage and made a run for it. An F-16 pilot spotted the two forms running from the craft and immediately assumed they were the enemy trying to escape. He veered from his course and headed straight for the unsuspecting couple. It’s guns were made ready and with speed their path was locked into place. Positioned safely behind sandbags and armored vehicles, Jerry, Dunken and Allison remained behind keeping vigil, waiting for some sign of their friend’s survival. It was Allison who spotted them first but it was Jerry and Dunken who simultaneously spotted the misguided F-16 heading straight for the two runners. “Oh my God!” shouted Allison terrified at what was about to happen. She couldn’t allow the tragedy to take place. She plunged herself forward climbing

over the sandbags tripping on the other side. It gave Dunken a chance to catch up and prevent her from getting killed. Meanwhile, Jerry was ranting wildly at General Mitchell trying to explain what was happening and urging him to call the pilot off. General Mitchell was not able to understand a word of what Jerry was trying to tell him which only wasted more valuable time. Having lost every ounce of patience, Jerry ripped the radio from the radio OP’s hand and began ordering the F-16 to back off. The message was received but rejected. His orders were firm, destroy all evidence of the aliens and their craft. General Mitchell could not stand by and allow innocent people to die needlessly. He believed Jerry and what he had to say. Taking the radio from Jerry, he ordered the pilot to abandon his position and to concentrate his efforts on the craft itself. The General confirmed his rank and position in the matter taking full responsibility for the order. The pilot changed his course allowing Marion and Bernard to proceed safely to the military camp where Jerry, Dunken and Allison waited anxiously to greet them. As Bernard made his approach he spoke sharply and very seriously. “It’s set to blow. We’ve got to warn everybody here to evacuate the area.” “Where are they?” asked Jerry desperately wanting to know. “They’re gone. I guess you can say they’ve been deactivated,” replied Bernard. “There’s not much time left, maybe 20 minutes.” The four of them raced to General Mitchell’s tent and informed him of what was about to happen. They did everything in their power to convince the General of the pending doom and destruction which lingered above their heads if all personnel within a twenty mile radius was not evacuated. After hearing their story his face turned pale at having to face the reality. “God, do you people know what you’ve done here? If that ship blows, the radiation fallout is going to be devastating beyond belief. We can’t allow it to self-destruct,” growled the General. “The President should be informed about this. He and the Chief’s of Staff should be making the decisions. However, we don’t have time for that now.” He picked up the radio and began an open transmission to all pilots assigned to that mission. He gave the orders to retreat. The mission had officially come to an end.” Then turning to Bernard the General announced; “I’m afraid you’re going to have to go back in there. You’re the only one who knows where the self-destruct mechanism is and how to disarm it.”

“But I don’t sir. I know where it is, but that’s it. I don’t know how to stop it,” replied Bernard not at all pleased with the General’s order. “I’ll send in some men with you who have experience with disarming live bombs. It’s the best I can do. Now, I suggest we get started before it’s too late.” Turning to an MP on duty, the General gave him the order to ensure everyone within twenty miles of the area were carefully and quickly evacuated. He put in a call to the nearby Air Force base in New Mexico calling for evacuation helicopters to be flown in to assist. Bernard and his crew sped up to the craft and using the same hole as he escaped through, they hurried past the wreckage following close behind Bernard who led them directly to the flight deck. He pointed out the arming device then stood back allowing the experienced military crew to do their job. As he stood by and watched, Bernard closed his eyes and prayed. It was a device never before seen by the military’s demolition experts, but using simple logic and a prayer, they were able to disarm it by cutting off it’s power source. Leaving the craft for the last time, Bernard lost his footing and fell through the jagged opening cutting his arm severely enough to produce a steady flow of blood. When he returned to the General’s tent, he was greeted by his friends and a very relieved and happy General. The mission had been successful and much had to be learned about the aliens. Jerry, Marion, Allison and Bernard agreed to share their information with top ranking officers but not until they had some time off to recover. Bernard was taken to the nearest civilian hospital by his request and treated for his wound. Seeing Bernard’s thick red blood over-joyed Marion who was now convinced that he was part of the human race and therefore available to be pursued. While in the hospital she was able to listen to the story that Bernard had not been able to complete while on the disabled ship. She learned of his abduction by the Zordons which had taken place 26 years earlier and how they wanted his chemistry expertise to help them with their breeding experiments. When he refused his services they forced his hand by injecting him with a cancer. He was faced with premature death or a chance to live out the full term of his life on board the craft helping in genetic experimentation. He took it as an opportunity to expand his knowledge. Shortly after having adjusted to his situation, Bernard overheard a conversation between Bergoff and the commander of the Cybercom, the ship where he was held a prisoner. He learned the sad truth about his

predicament. Sitting back in his comfortable hospital bed, Bernard closed his eyes for a moment wishing away the thoughts. Marion touched his shoulder asking him to continue. There was never any cancer injected into me as they told me. It was one of their deceptions used to keep me around. Anyway, when I overheard Bergoff talking about it I tried to make a run for it. When they caught up with me I was put into a kind of suspended animation chamber. Apparently I was in that state for ten years. While I laid there in the chamber, they dug through my mind over and over again using every bit of information from my memories. When they finally released me I had nowhere to return to and they informed me that I would have to make myself available whenever they needed me. I thought I’d save them the trouble of hunting me down and ripping me out of another life; I willingly stayed. But now it’s different Marion. There are reasons to stay here, one in particular. He looked up into Marion’s big beautiful eyes and knew he wanted to be with her. He hoped that one day she would feel the same for him. Two weeks ed before they were ed by the President and requested to attend a closed meeting to discuss the aliens and their agenda. They willingly attended and disclosed pages upon pages of information. When the meeting ended they felt certain that Earth’s power, although not as advanced as the aliens, was still great enough to ward off any future attacks. The news media ran the story in it’s entirety for over a year, running it into the ground until it was no longer of any interest.

* * *

Eighteen months later, Marion and Bernard found themselves comfortably married and living in Marion’s country home. They attempted to conceive a child of their own but after undergoing a complete examination, Marion was told she had some severe scarring inside her uterus. She could not bring herself to discuss the humiliating examinations that took place against her will aboard the alien craft so she simply cried away her frustration whenever Allison came to visit. On the eve of her second wedding anniversary, Marion and Bernard sat cuddled

on the over-stuffed couch waiting for Jerry Wilcox and Allison to arrive to help celebrate the special occasion. Jerry and Allison arrived together as they so often did and immediately dove into the celebration with a bottle of Champaign. A few hours ed when in the midst of laughter and steady chatter, the doorbell rang. Marion and Bernard looked at each other wondering who it could be. Marion took her husband by the hand and dragged him to the door with her. Bernard turned the knob and opened the door and standing all alone was a small girl no more than 3 or 4 years old. Looking down at the beautiful little girl, both were wondering what she was doing at THEIR doorstep. They listened in silence as the small child began to speak. “Hi mommy, hi daddy. I’m so glad I found you.” Marion felt her knees buckle underneath her weight, and before hitting the floor, Bernard reached out to break her fall. Jerry and Allison floated out to the entry curious to see who had dropped in without an invitation. They saw the small child by the door donning a perfect smile. “Well well, who do we have here?” asked Allison bending down to the child’s level. “I don’t have a name yet. Mommy and daddy didn’t give me a name before they left,” replied the child, her voice full of confidence. “Where is your mommy and daddy now?” asked Allison not paying attention to Bernard and Marion who stood staring in shock, the color drained from their faces. “There they are,” said the child pointing up at Marion and Bernard. “That’s my mommy and my daddy.” Allison straightened her posture and inched away cautiously putting space between herself and the strange child. Allison felt a cold chill come over her. Jerry forced himself into the conversation. “Where did you come from little girl?” The child stepped outside and pointed straight up into the sky. “Up there. Mr.

Zordon found you and brought me home where I belong.” “Oh my God!” whispered Marion. “It’s happening all over again.”