“It doesn’t have any lids. I poked him in the eye,” Hanson explained, cleaning his hand. “It’s creepy being stared at by that thing.”
Bennetts dug out a set of keys and handed them to Hanson. “Pull the van around and open the icebox. Let’s get this guy stored up and haul ass. Fucking Texas is kicking up my allergies.”
Hanson took the keys and dropped the handkerchief to the ground. Bennetts picked it up and knotted it in his hand as his partner left. He looked back down to the alien. Bennetts pointed the flashlight under his chin. It lit up his face and he glowed like a demon. The agent regarded the corpse.
“I have waited a long time to meet you, my friend,” Bennetts said with a big grin.
He glanced toward his young partner and he made sure Hanson was out of earshot. Then he turned his illuminated face back toward the alien.
“You look like a sympathetic ear. I don’t know what to do about that kid,” he confessed, quietly. “I thought he had the guts for this, but I’m not too sure, now. I don’t trust him not to crack and spill everything. I think I am going to have to dissolve our little partnership. But, hey, the life of an FBI agent is dangerous, you know. Shit happens. I just have to work out the details.”
Bennetts grimaced, as if the alien had objected. “Hey, I feel like a shit heel about it, okay. I should have seen he was too soft and green for this. But I am not going down for him or anyone else. You gotta look out for numero uno, baby.”
Bennetts paused, as if expecting the creature to reply. Then, his face grew uncomfortable. “You know, the kid was right,” Bennetts said. “It is creepy being stared at by you.”
He covered the alien face with the handkerchief.
The tendrils suddenly detached from Cecil’s face. He slumped lifelessly to the van floor, and he saw nothing else.
***
Bubba fought the descending alien fleet. He let out a war cry as he pointed the plastic plasma gun at the flickering saucers on screen. He glanced down to his number, and he saw that he was within a thousand points of the high score. That honor belonged to the initials of RLW. They were the only set of letters on the scoreboard besides TNT, Bubba’s cool as hell signature, that occupied the other nine score slots.
Bubba had worked this game for months, and he was finally closing in on that top spot. He quickly surveyed the score again, smiling because he was sure he had surpassed his nemesis, RLW.
“Really lame wimp!” Bubba quipped, pointing his weapon outside the screen and clicking to reload. “I have your ass now, RLW!”
Suddenly, the electricity died. The store went dark and the game shut down, the cityscape graphic burned into the screen. Bubba dropped the plasma rifle. It dangled on a wire.
“Oh, hell no, man!” he complained, lashing out and rocking the game. “Damn, I had it! I had the high score!”
Bubba took his fountain drink off of a nearby window ledge.
“Cecil, what the hell did you do back there?” he called out.
Bubba marched toward the back, sure that the lights would return at any second. He imagined Cecil stumbling around in shadow toward the fuse box. There was moonlight in the store, and Bubba used it to find the side garage entrance.
“Hey, do you know if that Invasion game loses the scores if the power is out?” Bubba called, reaching for the knob on the garage entrance.
He twisted it and opened the door. A tall and lanky silhouette greeted him. The red glow of an emergency exit light in the garage lit the form up. Bubba stared into the ominous alien face. It resembled the faces Bubba had seen eyewitness sketches of on UFO documentaries. Its flesh was grey and it had an egg-shaped head with large black eyes and no nose to speak of. There was only one detail that wasn’t consistent with what Bubba had seen; it’s mouth. That orifice was huge and large fangs flashed from it as the creature howled and reached with its long tendril fingers at Bubba.
He screamed and tripped. Bubba fell back to the floor, landing flat on his big bottom. The soda had miraculously survived, the plastic cup clutched in his hand. The creature knelt and grasped Bubba by his ankle. It started to tug him into the garage. Bubba screamed again and tossed his drink at the alien’s head. The lid popped off and the liquid splashed the beast’s face. Bubba heard a sound that resembled meat frying in a pan.
The monster screeched in pain. It dropped the large man and it scurried over him, kicking Bubba in the cheek as it ran. It burst through the store entrance and disappeared into the night.
Bubba sat, panting with fright, and then he remembered his friend.
“Cecil!” Bubba cried, pulling himself up and limping from the clutch the alien had put on his ankle. He could smell the seared flesh of the beast in the air.
Bubba entered the garage and followed the faint red light to the van. He noticed the back door was open. Bubba peered cautiously as he approached the quiet vehicle. He stepped around the door and saw Cecil sprawled out next to a metallic canister of some kind.
“Cecil,” Bubba whispered loudly. He eyed the metal cylinder. Suspicious and scared, Bubba chose not to enter the van. He reached in as far as he could. He managed to snag Cecil’s pant leg. He quickly pulled his friend out. Cecil’s head banged against the chrome bumper as he slipped to the greasy garage floor.
Bubba quickly knelt down and gently shook Cecil. “Cecil? Come on, partner. You open your eyes, man.”
Cecil groaned and his eyelids fluttered. He groggily regarded Bubba. “Bubba?” he said, weakly.
“Yeah, yeah,” Bubba said, smiling with relief. “Thank Jesus. I thought I was going to have to give you the kiss of life.”
“If it ever comes to that… don’t,” Cecil said, grunting and dragging himself upward.
Bubba gave him a hand, pulling Cecil to a sitting position and leaning his friend against the van. “There is some kind of mean ass looking alien out there,” Bubba said. “It about gave me a heart attack.”
“I know, man,” Cecil said, his vision clearing. “It was in the box in the van. It got in my head; made me free it.”
“Mind control?” Bubba said. “You’re saying it possessed you?”
“It worked me like a damn puppet,” Cecil admitted.
“What is it?” Bubba asked, glancing toward the door and making sure it wasn’t returning toward them.
“I don’t have a name for it. But it is old and evil. I can tell you that much,” Cecil explained, his energy rising.
“It’s the curse,” Bubba realized. He recited Rosalita’s words again: “You will be plagued by the strange and evil until the end of your days.”
“Damn, Bubba!” Cecil said, crossly. “Would you quit repeating it? You’re probably thickening the sauce every time you say it out loud!”
Bubba nodded, quickly. “Yeah, man. Of course. I’m sorry.”
Cecil sighed angrily. “We just went through the wringer last night. Don’t we at least get a breather?”
“Shit, we should have realized something like this would happen,” Bubba said. “Tonight is Halloween. We should have expected a check point for this stuff on night like tonight. We gotta make amends with Rosalita.”
“Where did that thing go?” Cecil asked.
“It went out the front door. It is far away from here by now,” Bubba said hopefully.
“No, it’s close. I can feel it,” Cecil said, pulling himself up to a standing position.
Bubba helped steady him.
“So what do we do? Hide in here and hope it phones home?” Bubba said.
“No, we gotta stop it,” Cecil said. “I’ve seen what it can do. It’s weak, right now. But as it grows stronger, it’ll kill everything. It’ll stick a straw in this planet and suck it dry.”
“I’m calling for back-up. Police, military, someone,” Bubba said, digging the small cell from his jeans pocket.
“What are you going to tell them?” Cecil asked. “They’re gonna figure you for drunk or crazy.”
“I’ll make some shit up. I’ll tell them we
got a terrorist over here or something,” Bubba decided. He flipped the phone open. He pressed a few buttons and scowled. “It’s dead, man. I just charged this damned phone this afternoon and I’ve hardly used it today.”
“It’s the alien,” Cecil explained. “It sucks the juice out of everything. It feeds on it. I saw the thing kill an entire planet that way. We gotta end this before it gets too strong for us to handle. And that’s gonna happen quick, man.”
“How are we supposed to do that?” Bubba questioned Cecil. “We don’t even have any weapons.”
Cecil motioned around the dark garage. “Use your head, dumb ass. There’s dangerous shit everywhere.”
The boys walked over to the tool counter. Bubba picked up a crowbar. Cecil wrapped his knuckles with a piece of chain. They looked at each, satisfied with their choices, and nodded silently and in accord. They walked toward the side store entrance, their eyes going everywhere.
They crept uneasily back into the store. Bubba looked to a shelf. He reached out, grasped a loaf of bread, and held it up to the moonlight. He nudged Cecil with his elbow. “Look at that, man,” he whispered.
Cecil stared over at the bread rack. He picked up food items and studied them. All he inspected was rotted. The bread and snack cakes were green inside their packages and gnats were already appraising the situation.
“Yep, what did I tell you,” Cecil whispered back. “I bet everything with a shelf life in this place has turned.”
Bubba dropped the bread, and they made their way to the register. Cecil pulled the security bat out from under the counter.
“I sure wish daddy weren’t so anti-gun,” he muttered, resting the bat on his shoulder.
The store entrance burst open. Cecil and Bubba turned toward it. They were ready to strike.
“Drop it!” Agent Bennetts shouted, aiming his 9mm at the pair.
Hanson stepped in, drawing his weapon and taking aim as well.
Bubba immediately dropped his crowbar to the store floor and hiked his hands into the air. His flannel shirt rose above his belly.
“Hey man, y’all don’t shoot!” Bubba said, panicked at first and then relieved after he thought about it. “Thank God you guys are here! We got a situation occurring!”
Cecil frowned at the men, knowing all about them, now. He dropped his arsenal, and faced his palms at them slowly.
“What the hell is happening here?” Bennetts demanded. “Why are you guys crawling around with weapons in the dark?”
Bubba motioned to the side garage entrance. “An evil ass alien came out of that van of yours! It’s nasty and it’s roaming around out here!”
Bennetts looked at the men, incredulously. “What are you hillbillies saying?”
“That thing in your van got into my head,” Cecil said. “It showed me shit, and then it made me release it.”
Bennetts regarded Hanson. “Go check it out.”
The young agent nodded and walked past Cecil and Bubba. Bubba started to relax his arms.
“I didn’t say to put your hands down, Slim,” Bennetts said, motioning with his firearm. “You keep them up until we figure things out around here.”
Bubba shot his arms back into the air, flashing his white belly once again.
Hanson returned quickly. He stepped next to his partner and trained his gun back toward Cecil and Bubba. “It’s gone,” he said, fearfully.
“What, these assholes broke it out of the box?” Bennetts figured.
“No, it’s been opened by the control pad,” Hanson said, staring curiously at his partner.
“How did a couple of yokels manage that, Leonard?”
“They couldn’t have,” Bennetts replied. “Only you and I have that code.”
“Like I said,” Cecil asserted once again. “It got in my head and started steering me around. It communicated with me. I punched that secret code of yours in like it was my own social, and I barely remember that.”
“It violated him,” Bubba threw in. “It raped his brain. He wouldn’t have let that thing out on his own. We wouldn’t cross you. We’re chicken shits, man.”
“So, you had a close encounter, did you?” Bennetts said, moving in closer on the boys. “Tell me what you saw in this little mind meld you had. It better be something useful, Sunshine. You need to convince me that something buried for one hundred and seventeen God damn years had the strength to walk out of this building and is hiding out in the darkness.”
“How else you gonna explain this shit?” Cecil said.
“Maybe the box malfunctioned and opened on its own. And maybe you two have the carcass hidden somewhere. Maybe you’re playing a game with us and you plan on cashing in on it yourselves,” Bennetts said, putting together a more likely scenario.
“Look around, man,” Cecil said. He stretched out his arms and motioned around the dark store. “Everything is dead. Every perishable food is rotted. If you got a cell phone, I’ll guarantee the battery is dry.”
Hanson dug his from his jacket and checked. “He’s right.”
Bennetts gave an angry pant and waved the gun around. “I don’t know what you morons are doing or how, but I am still calling bullshit on all of this. It’s not fucking possible, okay? You need to start singing a song we all know the lyrics to, chief.”
“Or what?” Cecil challenged him. “You gonna shoot me?”
Bennetts stepped up and jammed his gun against Bubba’s forehead. “No. I’ll shoot your friend.”
Bubba gasped, and his eyes moved toward Cecil. “Don’t set him off, man.”
“That thing is dangerous. It’ll destroy everything. And you’re bullying us?” Cecil said. “You need to get your head out of your ass. We are all in danger.”
Despite the fear, Bubba was indignant. “Hey, what the hell kind of FBI man are you? Threatening innocent civilians like this.”
Bennetts shoved the gun tighter against Bubba’s head. “Shut up, you worthless piece of redneck shit!” Bennetts turned his attention back to Cecil. “Tell me a story, or this fat fuck is a memory.”
Cecil looked over to Hanson. The young man seemed in a quandary. He held his weapon on Cecil, but his attention was devoted to Bennetts’ violent display. Cecil nodded and motioned his hands downward.
“You want a story? Okay, man, I’ll give you a story. Everything I know. But you take that gun off my buddy. Then you’ll get it.”
Bennetts pulled his gun away from Bubba. He nodded and grinned. Then he punched Bubba across the face. The big man went down to his knees.
“All right, Tex,” Bennetts retorted. “I’m all ears.”
Cecil glanced down at Bubba. His friend was nursing a bloody nose and his left eye was swelling up. But he, too, stared anxiously at Cecil for the tale.
“All right, well this here story is about one evil alien son of a bitch,” Cecil said, eyes darting between the two agents as he spoke. “This monster would go from planet to planet, and destroy them. It feeds on energy, and can take out an entire world in days, if it ain’t opposed. So after completely wiping out a world, the thing got in its ship and proceeded to move on to the next menu item.
“But there was a problem. The spaceship the thing flew around in malfunctioned. It got thrown off course and crash-landed, on this planet, in a small town called Pleasant Storm, Texas in 1876. The judge of Pleasant Storm, Robert Hartman, discovered the wreckage. He decided to bury it all. He felt the world wasn’t ready for this type of revelation, and he was probably right. So he and a few men hid everything, and they all vowed to take it to their graves. But once the thing had been buried, horrible things occurred. The town suffered a strange outbreak of disease.
“Nothing grew in Pleasant Storm for two years after the alien was buried. It was as if it had polluted the very ground it was consigned to. The town was nearly abandoned, but things finally came around. Crops blossomed again, around 1879. That same year, the good judge Robert Hartman died from a strange, unexplained sickness.”
Bennetts and
Hanson looked to each other. Both seemed genuinely shocked at Cecil’s knowledge of this.
“How do you know that, man?” Bubba asked, still knelt down on the floor.
“I just do. Some of it I saw in a vision, and the rest I just know,” Cecil tried to explain.
“There have always been rumors about that town,” Bennetts insisted. “I am sure it’s just part of the local lore.”
Bubba raised his hand, slightly. “The only story I know about Pleasant Storm is the one about that farmer that massacred his family and neighbors in 1965, I believe it was. I reckon everyone around here my age or older knows about that. But I never heard about an alien visitation, and I am an expert on that stuff.”
The Night is Long and Cold and Deep Page 8