The entire landscape as far as he could see both north and south looked like someone had basically tried to erase it. Every single thing had been smashed to bits and scattered for miles. Occasionally, dotting the scene, were things he recognized. A car. A roof. A boat. He hadn't been to the area many times but he tried his best to recall what it had looked like before. He couldn't seem to remember exactly. A lot of people lived there. He knew that for sure. Tens of thousands at least, and probably more than that. It was a number so large that it ceased to have emotional meaning to him.
He tried to give it some perspective. He knew the town he lived in had about five thousand people. If every man, woman and child perished times ten that might account for what happened here. Even that became too large to comprehend fully and so he settled for a stunned numbness.
The sudden quiet and stillness woke Tiny and he poked his head up over the edge. Looking around and sniffing the air he began to make little uncomfortable whining noises. Jim reached over and patted him. "It’s okay, boy. We aren't going that way anymore. I'm going to back track and get on the parkway and head home that way. Okay? Don't you worry." That seemed to mollify him and he turned in circles a few times and lay back down. B.A. looked at him sideways and then back at the horizon again. Jim would swear the dog looked sad and worried. He started the engine and turned around.
A short distance back he found the interchange for the parkway. He took a ramp around, going in the wrong direction but ended up where he needed to be in any case. The roadway, at least for the next few hundred yards, looked clear except for dirt and rocks that washed across it. He prayed it would stay like that all the way home though he knew chances were that wouldn't be the case. He still had a long distance to go. Having come this route before, he knew he had about ninety miles left with a river crossing at the end that might prove impossible depending on the circumstances.
He kept up a speed of about forty miles an hour for a while. Fast enough to make good time and yet slow enough so he could avoid obstacles and debris. The devastation looked as though it were endless. Mile after mile of it. As he came to a point where the road veered away from the ocean, he noticed a line of destruction where the wave seemed to have stopped and spared small communities of homes. He noticed a police car and people in the streets trying to figure out what to do.
A short time later he saw three Black Hawk helicopters flying in formation in the distance. They appeared to be heading north and he assumed they were trying to assess the damage and look for survivors. Based on what Jim saw he doubted there were any. It seemed unfathomable how anyone could survive that. It wasn't something anyone could have foreseen or anticipated. Most people were likely asleep when the wave came.
After about forty minutes of driving and making good time his luck ran out. He brought the motorcycle to a stop as he surveyed the land ahead. He turned off the engine and got off to stretch his legs. Tiny and B.A. did the same. They hopped out of the side car and hobbled to the median looking for a place to pee.
Jim figured the highway must have swung back toward the coast at this point because the road up ahead was wrecked. The ocean side of it still had water covering it, complete with an enormous tanker on its side. The receding water must have compromised the roadway as it climbed toward a small bridge spanning a river.
There, huge hunks of blacktop had broken off and fallen away. The next quarter of a mile of travel would be an ass puckering experience at best. At worst it could seriously injure him which, under the circumstances, would mean a long lingering death.
He sat against the front of the motorcycle, sighed deeply and clenched and unclenched his jaw while pondering his next move. The dogs, having finished their business, came over and sat on either side of him.
He ran his hand through the fur on B.A.'s head and gave him a pat. Tiny, who peered around Jim's leg, began to whine. Jim looked down at him. "What's wrong, boy? Is something making you nervous?" he asked the worried looking chihuahua as he squatted down to pet him. The dog stepped aside so Jim didn't block its view.
Jim turned to see what the dog looked at but couldn't really find it, until it moved. At least he thought it moved, but it shouldn't have. Dead bodies don't move and the arm sticking out of the muck definitely belonged to the dead. Dead bodies don't move unless...
Jim thought back to the morning when he had first met the two dogs. That thing that had been trying to get at him while he lay asleep in the car. He hadn't really had much time to think about where it came from or what it was. At the time he thought of it as a zombie for lack of a better idea. What if there wasn't a better idea? What if that was exactly right? The figured that stood up out of the muck seemed to confirm his theory. The others that began to stand up after that first one left no doubt.
His sense of urgency and panic would have been much greater if the things weren't moving so slowly and awkwardly. Jim got back on the motorcycle and the dogs, without him needing to say a word, hopped back in the sidecar. Tiny poked his head back up over the edge and watched the figures for a few seconds before ducking back down.
He looked back out at the figures walking toward them and he had to fight the urge to count them to see how many there were. Instead he pulled in the clutch and put the bike in gear. For some reason he couldn't understand, he made the sign of the cross and then began rolling up toward the bridge.
The roadway undulated because of some parts sinking more than others. So he bobbed up and down as he tried to keep to a narrow ribbon of road that looked most stable. Pieces of the edges of that ribbon fell away as he drove past. Just as he made it to the bridge he heard a large kerplunk to the water below. The road on the other side of the bridge wasn't quite as bad so he kept going.
He passed a sign that told him home lay only seventy miles away. The vision of dozens of undead rising up out of the muck replayed in his head. He felt on the verge of breaking. He found himself driving so fast that even Badass ducked down into the seat of the sidecar. He did not stop for anything. Including two police cars he saw along the way. All he could think of was making it home.
With only about fifteen miles to go, the last bridge he needed to cross came into view and what he saw really made his spirits sink. One of the bridge's towers leaned to the left and the other leaned to the right. This did not bode well. To make matters worse the wind blew strong gusts and large drops of rain were beginning to hit the pavement.
Within a few minutes he began the final approach to the bridge. The roadway split with a significant gap as it climbed above the river. Jim slowed being unsure what he would encounter. On the other side, close to the entrance of the bridge were several large trucks blocking the roadway.
Against them pressed a large crowd that seemed agitated about something.
As soon as he got on the bridge he could understand why the roadway had been blocked. It was an absolute wreck. He had to slow to a crawl to make sure he didn't have an accident. Part way across the motorcycle suddenly sputtered to a halt. At first he thought it stalled because of the slow pace but it refused to start up again.
Then he noticed the fuel gauge said it was empty. He stared at it in disbelief of its message. He had been in such a hurry to get back he never once checked his fuel level. He was furious with himself. He had no choice but to walk. He knew of a gas station on the other side. Perhaps he could bring some gas back. He got off the bike. The wind whipped at him. The dogs, noticing he had stopped, peeked out from the sidecar.
"Come on, you two, we're going to have to walk," he said to them in a raised voice to be heard over the wind.
They climbed out reluctantly. He looked to the other side of the bridge and saw an abandoned pickup truck in the middle of the road. The truck looked an awful lot like Turnello's but Turnello would never leave his truck this far from home unless something bad happened.
He walked to the riverside of the bridge, looked down at the dark green water and the height made him instantly dizzy. He gripped the rail tightly out of reflex. He
squinted at several things floating on the surface of the water below. Gulls most likely. No, their colors were each different. Then, as he realized what they were, he felt his heart break.
David and Ivy on the Alien Ship - Morning Wed Sep 4
With Ivy's left hand supporting David and her right hand holding her revolver the two slowly made their way to the alien ship. It sat fifty feet away with its doorway open and a bright light emanating from it. Ivy's entire body tingled with anticipation and excitement like she was about to do something really naughty but enjoyable. The whole scene seemed surreal, like something out of a movie. David needed to pause again to rest.
"I hope this isn't going to be another one of those times I start out saying 'I really shouldn't do this but...' and then end up getting myself in trouble," he whispered as they began walking again.
"Well, what else are we going to do? Call 911?" Ivy asked and that stopped David in his tracks.
"Oh my god, the phone."
"Phone? What phone?"
"I have..." he corrected himself, "I had a satellite phone."
"Had?"
"He took it from me," he said gesturing toward the building with his head, "but I have no idea what he did with it."
"Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit. I'm thinking we should look for that as soon as we can."
David nodded, "There are some people I know who would be very interested in all this."
They got to the ramp leading up into the ship and both hesitated moving inside. They peered in but couldn't really see beyond the bright light. They looked at one another, took a deep breath and stepped up the ramp and into the ship. Though she felt fairly certain there wasn't anyone on board, she raised her revolver defensively as they crossed the threshold and went into the craft.
The moment they stepped onboard, outside sounds disappeared and so did the bright light. It was replaced by a red glow that wasn't coming from any specific place they could discern. The area appeared to be some sort of airlock. What they noticed immediately was the slightly diminished sense of scale. Everything was just a little smaller than felt comfortable. The feeling reminded Ivy of an eighteenth century home she had once visited.
They stepped through another doorway and into what seemed like the ship's main compartment. They stopped in mid step. In the center of the space stood a console with two egg shaped seats. Directly ahead of the console sat a large screen that showed the scene outside in ultra high definition.
All around the compartment, wherever they could be placed without interfering with movement or access to some piece of equipment were dozens and quite possibly more than a hundred potted plants of various sizes. Although they differed in size, they all appeared to be the same type of plant. David furrowed his brow and turned to Ivy. She stood with her mouth open. He took a few steps toward the plants closest to him.
"Are these...are these what I think they are?" he asked.
Ivy walked over to another group of plants and touched the leaves. They were certainly real. She looked at David astonished and nodded. "Cannabis. Why..." she paused and narrowed her eyes, "what...the...hell?"
"Where did they get all of these from?" David said moving from plant to plant slowly as he took the scene in.
"Never mind that, my question is why? Why would they have all of these?"
David crossed to the console which appeared to be nothing but a large slab of perfectly polished obsidian without a single switch, button, or lever. He reached out to touch it, his hand hovering over it for a moment, but then the notion made him uneasy and he withdrew it. He turned to the seat next to him and examined it more closely. It seemed to be designed to hold their entire body so that their feet didn't touch the floor of the craft. Some things resting on the other seat caught his attention. He walked the few steps to it and for the second time since they boarded the ship he felt completely surprised and perplexed.
"Hey," he called to Ivy who crouched down looking at some of the smaller seedlings, "Look at this."
She came over and saw a small pile of VHS tapes and DVDs on the seat. She narrowed her eyes, tilted her head and picked up a tape from the top of the pile.
"Dawn of the Dead," she said, reading the label. She picked up another. "Night of the Living Dead. So we've had close encounters with aliens that smoke pot and watch zombie movies?"
"Well, I certainly didn't see that one coming," said David as he poked at some of the DVDs with his finger.
"They aren't all zombie movies either. I guess they like bad sci-fi too. Here look at this," she said picking up several loose DVDs and handed them to him.
"Impact. Deep Impact. Meteor," he said looking at the titles on the discs and shaking his head.
"This is just weird."
"Well, space travel takes a long time even if you're moving close to the speed of light. We watch movies on airplanes going across the country and those flights are only a few hours long."
"So you think these things spark up a doobie and pop in Dawn of the Dead while speeding across the galaxy?" she asked, giving him a skeptical look.
"It's a possibility," he said shrugging his shoulders.
"Don't they have movies where they come from?"
"I don't know about you but I like to watch foreign films on occasion."
She laughed and shook her head. "Foreign films, huh? What kind of scientist did you say you were again?"
"I'm an astronomer," he said indignantly, "You?"
"Oh, I'm not. I was just about to start my pathology residency at the University of Arizona, and I'm sorry I didn't mean to laugh."
He held up his hand. "It's okay. Don't mind me," he said looking and feeling suddenly weary. He stepped back and leaned against the console to rest. The moment he touched it, the lighting in the space changed. He looked up to see what happened. Ivy's head snapped toward the console and her eyes widened. David, suddenly realizing what he leaned on, leapt away like it was a hot stove. The entire console lit up showing a complex set of controls that made a recording studio console look simple.
They both held their breath and stood still waiting for something to happen. A minute passed. Nothing. They looked at one another.
"Maybe we should get out of here," Ivy whispered.
"Let's just take a peek in the back. There can't be much more to this thing."
"I don't know. I'm getting the willies," Ivy said looking grave.
"Just one more minute and then we can get out of here and look for the sat phone." Without waiting for her to reply he walked to the back and carefully peeked through the doorway. She saw his eyes widen and his face pale before he pulled back into the room. He looked at her with eyes wide and gritted teeth and motioned for her to come. Then the light in the room changed again.
They turned simultaneously and found themselves looking at the face of a surprised alien on the screen that had once showed the outside scene. They both gasped audibly and were momentarily frozen with fear. Its large eyes narrowed as it reached down to something off screen. Ivy grabbed David's arm and prepared to drag him out of there if necessary.
They hadn't gone more than two steps when the exit door slammed shut.
A Bad Day Part 1 Page 12