Texas Strange

by West, Terry M.

  “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 everyt
hing. 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.”

  “There’s only one thing I can’t figure out,” Cecil said. “And that’s how the two of you knew where to dig it up.”

  “You want to know? Okay, Huckleberry. I’ll tell you. The judge kept a journal,” Bennetts explained, arrogantly. “He documented everything. He insisted on his deathbed that his notes be burned, but his wife refused. The journal was discovered about a year ago, and it hit my radar. A friend of a friend gave the judge’s descendant a large finder’s fee and the journal came my way. Is the puzzle complete enough for you now?”

  “Almost. But I got another picture that needs painting here. There’s something else I saw,” Cecil continued, eyes burning toward Bennetts. “And I am sure it is something your partner would want to know.”

  “And what would that be?” Bennetts asked, suspiciously.

  Cecil turned to Hanson. “When you guys dug it up, you poked its eye. And your partner here gave you a handkerchief to clean your hand.”

  Hanson was stunned. He looked to Bennetts and then back to Cecil. “How could you know that?”

  “I was looking through the thing’s eyes,” Cecil said. “It wasn’t dead. It’s had a spark, this whole time. And then something gave it the strength to rise again.”

  “What could have possibly done that?” Bennetts asked, his free hand searching his pockets nervously for gum.

  Cecil and Bubba looked at each other. They knew the curse was behind the events of that night, but both silently agreed not to explain.

  “I don’t know, man. Maybe it was atmospheric conditions,” Bubba offered. “Or planetary alignments.”

  Cecil spoke to Hanson. “Your partner was planning on cutting you out of the deal. In a permanent way.”

  Hanson’s face contorted in frustration and confusion. “You know, I think I am seriously losing it here, Leonard. What is this guy saying?”

  “He’s screwing with you. He’s trying to turn us against each other,” Bennetts assured his partner.

  “Leonard there said he couldn’t trust you,” Cecil continued. “He must like the sound of his own voice ‘cause he talked like that alien could hear him. And it did. I did.”

  “These guys are just trying to save their asses,” Bennetts argued. “We’re going to waste them, right now, and tear this shit hole up until we find the alien.”

  Hanson turned his weapon on Bennetts. “You shoot them, you die, Leonard.”

  Bennetts looked to Hanson. He had a genuinely hurt expression on his hard face. “Come on, kid. What the hell are you doing?”

  “I’m not a killer,” Hanson said. He grabbed his wrist and steadied his aim. “Getting rich is one thing. But I am not going to bathe in blood to get there.”

  “Think about it,” Bennetts said, pulling his gun back and pointing it to the floor. “Do you really think we can let these losers live? They’ll turn on us in a heartbeat.”

  “No sir, you let us live and we’re square, man,” Bubba said, turning his frightened eyes to Hanson. “We don’t know shit. We’re all three monkeys on this.”

  “No one dies,” Hanson said. “You promise me, Leonard. You were my father’s partner. You’re like an uncle to me. It’s not worth this. Tell me we’ll go another route.”

  Bennetts sighed and looked to the ground. “You had to bring your old man up, didn’t you?”

  “Come on, Leonard,” Hanson pleaded, lowering his gun. “You’re a good man. We don’t have to do this.”

  “You’re right,” Bennetts said, quickly raising his gun and shooting Hanson between the eyes.

  Hanson fell backward, crashing into a comic book rack, and then he slumped to the floor.

  Bennetts turned back to Cecil. “That’s on you, Sunshine.”

  Cecil shook angrily. Bubba stared at Hanson’s fallen body.

  “He was young,” Bubba whispered, shaking his head.

  “This was the plan all along,” Cecil said to Bubba, wanting to unleash his fury so severely that his fists flexed in the air. “I was just trying to warn the guy.”

  Bennetts backed up to Hanson’s body and knelt down, scooping up his partner’s gun. He shoved it under his belt.

  “Now, before I start assigning pain, I am going to ask nicely one more time; where in the fuck is my alien?” Bennetts snarled.

  Hanson’s corpse jerked. Bennetts glanced back, and his partner’s fallen form bounced against the floor. The dead body twitched and vibrated. Bennetts moved his gun between the quivering body and his hostages. Bennetts’ eyes were wild with fright. Cecil thought about rushing the bastard, but he was cautious of the twitchy corpse. He figured the alien behind this dark magic.

  Hanson rose up, as if pulled to a standing position by invisible wires. His head bobbed and he took clumsy steps toward his murderer.

  Bennetts fired three rounds into Hanson’s body. The reanimated corpse bounced around and then continued its slow, labored march.

&nb
sp; “Look over there, man!” Bubba screamed, pointing to the window near the Invasion machine.

  The alien was staring inside the store. Its fingers glowed and circled the air.

  Bennetts aimed toward the creature. The alien shrieked and hissed. It bolted away. As soon as it disappeared, Hanson’s corpse crashed back to the floor. Bennetts stared at his dead comrade, biting his lower lip and thinking. He turned his face back up toward Cecil and Bubba.

  “Okay, I believe you,” Bennetts conceded. “And I guess I need you apes to get through this. So you get to live. For now, anyway.”