Red the First

by C. D. Verhoff

  “Have your gun ready,” he told Doc. “My wife will be driving, so you’ll have to do the shooting.” He quickly showed Elizabeth the buttons on the windshield, and gave her a crash course in using the controls.

  Michael’s face lit up when Red ushered him into the driver’s seat of the second craft. “You mean I get to drive?”

  “Yep.”

  “Awesome!”

  Red had taught Michael to drive a car, so he knew the boy could handle himself behind the wheel of the hovercraft. Besides, if a fight broke out along the way, Blanche needed to be free to use her gun or her ‘charismatic muscle if needed.

  “Follow your mother to the billboard and do whatever she tells you.”

  “What about Zena?” Michael said, tearfully glancing over the field.

  “I’ll keep my eye out for her.” Red said in all honesty. The thought of leaving his dog behind tore him up inside.

  “I’m sure she’s in the barn,” Elizabeth said, as much to Red as to Michael. “Your friends love that dog almost as much as you do. I’m sure they’ll look after her.”

  “Michael,” Red squeezed his son’s shoulder. “In my absence, you’re the man of the family. Promise me you’ll look after your mother and little brother or sister until I come back.”

  “I promise, Dad. But why can’t you come with us?”

  “If things get too quiet, the Celeruns will storm the barn. When they don’t find anyone inside of it, they’ll check every nook and cranny, and there’s a chance they’ll find the secret door, so we can’t let that happen. Nate and I will stay long enough to keep it interesting. That will buy some time before the launch.”

  “What launch?” Michael asked.

  “Yeah, what launch?” Blanche wanted to know, but nobody answered.

  Elizabeth handed Red her semi-automatic.

  “You keep it,” he said pushing it back.

  “I have an extra.” She lifted up the back of her shirt to show a handgun.

  “I’m sorry about my reaction to the baby news,” Red said. “I’m glad. I really am.”

  “I know you’re not,” she said. “But I appreciate you pretending for my sake.”

  “There’s no fooling a mind reader like you, Elizabeth.”

  “I haven’t been able to read your mind for months now,” she confessed.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I dunno...maybe I thought it kept you from trying to hide your feelings from me.”

  He thought about it a moment, and replied, “Then I something really important to tell you.”

  “Yes?”

  “When the world was at its darkest, you became my light,” he said, and really meant it this time. “I love you.”

  Elizabeth’s delicate fingers caressed the outline of his jaw. If she could still read his mind, she would know that he didn’t expect to see the inside of that bunker. He sensed that she knew him so well, she didn’t need charisma to see his many regrets. A lesser woman would have begged him to return to the bunker with her. Not his lovely and strong Elizabeth. She knew nothing could deter him from doing this and she wasn’t going to make it any harder on him than it already was.

  “We had a good run,” she said. “Didn’t we?”

  God, she looked more beautiful than ever under the moonlight. A single tear glistened down her cheek. He pulled her close. They shared a long kiss. As he let go, Michael began to sing the song from this last evening’s Mass, “I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless; Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness; Where is death’s sting? Where, grave, thy victory. I triumph still, if Thou abide with me.”

  Red’s soul stirred with an impossible blend of resignation and hope. He wasn’t good at this mushy stuff, so he stood back, dumbly shoving hands into pants pockets. Elizabeth’s dark eyes lingered over his face as if she was trying to commit every detail to memory. She gave a mysterious smile to rival the beauty and depth of the Mona Lisa. “You’ll always be my hero, Red Wakeland.”

  She twisted the hovercraft’s handle, and sped off, taking their unborn child with her. Doc glanced back, holding up a hand in salute. Michael followed behind them. The boy had given him a second chance at being the kind of father he had always wanted to be. For that he would always be grateful. Blanche sat behind Michael, looking back at them, blonde hair blowing in the wind, holding up one hand in a perpetual wave until they faded into the horizon.

  “Godspeed,” Red said, voice breaking. Nate patted him on the back.

  “Don’t worry, Bossman. They’re gonna make it. So are we.”

  Chapter 21

  Oil lamps and matches were found stored inside the barn, and the adults lit them gingerly, placing them on areas swept clear of straw. The lamps gave off just enough light to keep the children from Hewego and Last Haven calm. Bales of straw were stacked high in hope of keeping any stray Celerun laser blasts from finding a human target. Fire was still a big concern, but what else could they do?

  They’d been trapped inside the barn for hours. Most people were nodding off, when a little girl from Last Haven pointed out something most peculiar. Veronica aimed her flashlight at it to get a better look. A long tube sock, weighted with something in the toe and tied into a bow, was floating near the rafters. The adults held a quick debate as to whether this could be a Celerun trick. Farmer Morningside ended the debate by snatching the sock out of the air with a rake. He rejoined them behind the hay shelter. Everybody huddled close as he untied the sock.

  “There’s a note.” Everyone inched closer. “From the mayor. It’s his handwriting. He wrote it with a pen—I can feel the indentations.”

  He passed around the note to let everyone read the instructions.

  “Wow,” said Veronica. “Now I feel terrible about being so rude to General Moore.”

  “No use crying over spilt whisky,” said Farmer Morningside. “Everybody remember the lock code?”

  “1-14-4-25-9-11,” Veronica said. “I have a head for numbers.”

  “New Years, Valentine’s Day, Independence Day, Christmas, Emergency,” Father Bob said. “He made it easy enough to remember.”

  They tore up the paper when they were all done reading it, as per instructions, and each chewed up and swallowed a scrap of the paper.

  “Needs salt,” Farmer Morningside complained.

  Some of the men took positions near the doors and windows, sending out a spray of gunshots toward the fields, to warn off any exposed Celeruns. That led to a volley of lasers, and more gunshots. While that was going on, the rest of Hewego and Last Haven lined up in front of the stall marked with a verse from the bible.

  There is neither Jew nor Greek: there is neither bond nor free: there is neither male nor female. For you are all one in Christ Jesus. ~Galatians 3:28

  Farmer Morningside found the huge trap door, several men pulled it open, and ushered everyone down the steep ramp. When the last person in the barn had gone through, they descended too, shutting the trap door behind them.

  Chapter 22

  Stars glittered like diamonds over the velvety blue horizon. Red and Nate inched through the weeds closer to the barn, firing intermittent shots at the alien invaders. Hopefully, the acoustics of the undulating farmland would make any sound difficult to pinpoint.

  Unfortunately, aliens were now posted along the road and on all sides of the barn, trapping Red and Nate between the building and the meadow. Red hoped and prayed the others had made it to the safety of the bunker. He would die easier knowing that much, but there was still a chance he might come out of this alive. Nate too. The kid had done more than his share of the work and the worry and deserved a shot at happiness.

  The countdown watch said 5 a.m.

  Red aimed his gun at an alien standing near the tractor. Got her right in the ear. Nate shot off an entire round in a random arc, ensuring the aliens that the humans were still there, causing trouble.

  Aliens began to wildly gesticulate toward the barn, then started pointing at the m
eadow. A team of them began to aim their instruments toward the grass. Red could tell the Celeruns’ mother ship was still draining their resources by the way they shook their weapons and various gadgets, as if trying to settle a loose battery into place. Power was probably still being diverted to the mother ship, creating blips in their technology. Still, the aliens were beginning to suspect that the humans were up to something. Red held his lighter to a pile of dry leaves, fanning the flame toward the meadow grass.

  “It’s now or never,” he told Nate.

  The men crawled through the smoking meadow toward the highway, squeezing unseen around behind the Celeruns who had suddenly taken an interest in the growing flames.

  When the two men got to the road, the alien orgy had broken up. Whatever that had entailed, Red didn’t ask, but Celeruns were still socializing out on the highway. The hovercrafts were so close, yet so far out of reach they might as well be on the moon.

  “Maybe we should walk?” Nate suggested. “After all the walking we’ve done in the past three years, we can easily cover two miles on foot in less than an hour.”

  Red looked up the road. He knew from driving it a dozen times before that it was lined with tall honeysuckles. Combined with the early morning darkness, that would be excellent cover. He let Nate take the lead.

  They walked for a quarter of a mile, edging close to the thick bushes, before coming to a river.

  “Crap, I forgot about this,” Red said, glancing nervously behind him, waiting for the pursuit he knew would come sooner or later.

  “Should we swim?”

  Red shook his head.

  “The current will carry us downstream, and we’ll lose time. Let’s walk a little ways and see if there’s a shallow place where we can walk across.”

  Further downstream, they found a section of the river which was both narrow and shallow. A tree had fallen from bank to bank, allowing them to cross without dipping a toe into the water. On the other side of the river they found an elementary school. The sign outside said: Talent Show, Monday, 7 pm. All the broken hopes and dreams that died in a generation—it was best not to think about it.

  A batch of tall elms stopped at the edge of the playground. A pink sunrise was spreading over the horizon. Red felt a sense of urgency rising in his chest.

  It was already 5:20 am.

  “We’re not going to make it at this rate.”

  “Nonsense,” said Nate. “I can run a five-minute mile.”

  “I can’t,” Red said. “Besides, if you run straight down the highway, the Celeruns will see you in no time.”

  “Follow me, Bossman.” Nate led him into a ditch with a couple of inches of water at the bottom. They jogged through the water, sending up a spray. It was difficult keeping up with a guy half his age and Red found himself gasping for breath. They probably had covered a mile when familiar squeaking and clicking come from above.

  He followed Nate up the bank to see six parked hovercraft on the edge of the road. Tall celery-colored aliens were searching the trees on the opposite side of the road. The aliens moved methodically, boldly, fearlessly. Perhaps he’d feel the same way in their place, thinking a few hundred puny humans didn’t stand a chance against a billion Celeruns. Red noticed that they aliens had left their hovercrafts unattended. He saw Nate eyeing the vehicles too.

  “We might as well go for it,” Nate said.

  Nate ran out into the open as soft as a cat and pounced onto a hovercraft. Red wasn’t as agile, but claimed his own vehicle without being noticed.

  As an afterthought, he fired bullets into the engine housing of the other hovercrafts. He hoped it was enough to stop the Celeruns from pursuing them, but who could tell with alien technology?

  Startled Celeruns emerged from the trees. Red ducked to avoid laser fire. The trajectory missed Red, but the beam of light landed directly into his hovercraft. Red heard a sizzle, and jumped clear, just as the thing exploded. Burns dug into his skin like blazing razor blades. He writhed in place, thinking he must be dead, but he was more shaken than anything.

  “Climb on, Bossman!” Nate had circled back. “Shake it off!”

  That’s when he noticed the blast had wiped out all the vehicles except Nate’s. Red found his footing and leapt aboard behind the young man. It was a tight squeeze, but the extra weight didn’t seem to bother the hovercraft at all. Nate sped down the highway at full throttle, with Red constantly glancing behind them. So far, no Celeruns, but it wouldn’t be long.

  A few moments after they’d taken off, they saw the giant face of a smiling baby with a chin full of green gunk. The words, “Feed Your Little One Rainbows!” filled the top of the billboard. Nate swung off the highway and parked behind the huge sign. One of the three cylindrical posts supporting the billboard showed the faintest outline of the doorway.

  “So,” Nate said, his face filled with uncertainly. “Behind this door waits the rest of my life?”

  “Yep,” said Red, glancing at his watch. The time was 5:45 am.

  “Oh-uh!” Nate squinted, shielding his eyes from the rising sun with his hand, toward the fuzzy line of silver shimmering over the western horizon.

  They flattened themselves against the pole, not sure if they’d already been spotted.

  “One of us has to lead them away,” Nate said. “Let me be the one, Bossman. You’re a father and…”

  “Hell, no, kid.” Red swung a leg over the hovercraft once again, strategically using his arms and legs as barriers to prevent Nate from reboarding. “I’m the mayor. It’s my responsibility. “Look after my family—will you?”

  “They’ll be my own—Red, there’s just one thing I need to get off my chest.”

  Red raised an eyebrow. What could be so damn important at a time like this?

  “The election…” Nate looked to the ground. “I didn’t vote for you.”

  “I didn’t vote for me either. Stupidest election ever.”

  Nate grinned and gave the peace sign. “Love and light, Bossman,”

  Red returned with a two finger V. “Not for peace—for victory.” Then he reached down into his pants pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper, tossing it to Nate. “Don’t lose this. It’s the code to get in.”

  With that Red climbed back on the lone remaining hovercraft, turned it around and headed full speed toward the approaching aliens.

  Chapter 23

  The Celeruns pursued Red back to the elementary school. He zoomed around the playground, hoping to keep the invaders distracted until the countdown began. Finally, the Celeruns cut off all possible routes, forcing him to stop. They surrounded him and yanked him from the stolen hovercraft. He didn’t resist. They took his gun and brutally slammed his face against a merry-go-round. His vision filled with whirling fireflies, but they couldn’t be real.

  “Leave me alone!” Red hollered, sounding half drunk, his voice echoing over the countryside. He lifted a finger to pop the insects he had hallucinated. “I need to get home. Piper is calling for me.”

  He felt as helpless as one of her ragdoll when they stood him on his feet and threw him onto the ground. His wrists and ankles were quickly bound with the sticky stretchy cord. He fought it, but he’d have to be a gorilla to break it. Blood ran in his eyes. He contorted his wrists and squinted at his watch’s display. The time was 6:01 am. Oh, God, no. The countdown had failed.

  An alien grabbed his wrist to see what he was looking at. She shook his arms so hard in her attempt to rip the watch off him that he thought she’d take his arm off with the watch. Spittle flew out of her mouth as she said something harsh to him, but it sounded like gibberish.

  Suddenly, a blur of tan and black barreled across the cracked blacktop.

  “Zena,” he whispered, heart sinking.

  Sharp teeth bared, she leapt at the Celerun who had just mistreated Zena’s beloved master. Another Celerun spun to see her pounce; with cold accuracy, the Celerun aimed her laser gun.

  “No!” He tried to rise, tried to shout, anything
to distract the alien with the blaster, but there was no need. Orange light rolled through the window of the weapon, sizzled, then faded into vapor. More Celeruns took aim at his attacking dog, but their lasers failed in the same way.

  Zena landed on the Celerun who had violently shaken his arm, knocking her to the ground with such force that the alien’s gadgets slid across the pavement. He had never seen a Celerun’s eyes open so big, the pupils shrunk to pinpoints. Zena buried her fangs into the Celerun’s neck. The other aliens tried to beat Zena off with metal rods, but she buried her fangs deeper as she pulled her victim across the ground. The mighty Zena’s strength was fading fast under the assault though, and red blood was splattering everywhere.

  Red tried to defend her, but was viciously beaten down with the same rods. Head woozy, kidneys bruised, everything bloodied—he fell to the playground. They continued to mercilessly beat both Zena and himself. When his dog finally let go, she limped to Red’s feet covered in red blood and yellow ick, tongue lolling out, eyes filled with suffering. His heart broke when she looked up at him with complete trust.

  “It won’t be long, my faithful friend,” he said, struggling against the cords to give her a reassuring pat on the head.

  The alien whom Zena had attacked lay there unmoving as her frustrated friends tried to give medical assistance, but it was clear that she was dead. A Celerun pulled Red up by the hair, shoving him for no reason that Red could see other than revenge. Zena tried to come to his aid, but she let out a yelp and collapsed back to the ground. A group of Celeruns were taking a closer look at his watch when their armbands all pinged at the same time. They pulled out their electronic tablets, read the displays, then glanced back in the direction of the barn, looking slightly confused.