The Abduction Chronicles

by Thomas L. Hay

  Ouch! That had to hurt.

  “We’ve got to keep moving,” Tom-Tom said, still waving for us to hurry.

  As bad as we stunk, I smelled that smell again from the cavern on Easter Island. Similar to the west wind that blows from Kansas. It was the atmosphere that the aliens breathed. It made me wonder if Jayhawks weren’t aliens too.

  Tom-Tom said that the air wasn’t harmful to humans. It just stunk and made a person want to puke. But now was not the time to be throwing up.

  “Just breathe slowly and keep moving,” he advised while holding his nose.

  The dome was actually a shield. Tom-Tom knew it had a power grid to keep it in place. That was our target. If we could disrupt the power source, the shield would collapse, leaving the aliens exposed to earth’s atmosphere. Supposedly, they could survive by breathing our air, but it made them sick and want to puke when they were exposed to it.

  Our plan was to disable the power grid, capture or kill the aliens, steal a time craft, and whiz me back to 1978, where I could continue my dreary life. Unfortunately, however, not all plans go according to plan, especially when dealing with a superior race that has just conquered you.

  No sooner had we assembled inside the dome, we saw that we were surrounded. I about crapped my pants when I saw Monroe and several of his warriors pointing laser guns at us. It looked like he had survived the crash after all.

  One of the warriors had my discarded helmet and forced it back upon my head.

  We have been expecting you, Tom. Thank you for bringing your brother along, Monroe said, with a wicked smile plastered on his alien face.

  Oh man. We fell right into their trap. We learned later that the aliens had planted a rat in our midst who had spilled the beans on us.

  “You wouldn’t happen to have a plan ‘B’ up your sleeve, would you?” I asked Tom-Tom, hoping for a miracle.

  He frowned and shook his head, “Afraid not.”

  It looked like Monroe would be the hero this day. This wasn’t going to look good on my Marvel Hero resume.

  Put them through the distillery, they smell like human waste. Then escort them to the prison compound, Monroe told his warriors.

  After being stripped naked and sprayed with a fine sweet-smelling mist, we were clothed in the boring gray metallic cloth outfit that the aliens wore. We were then marched to a building that resembled a prison compound and separated. I was put in a small room and strapped to what appeared to be a hospital operating bed, resembling those in our present-day mental wards. I was then left alone in a deafening silence to ponder my demise.

  As I surveyed the room, I noticed a small table with a tray containing familiar utensils. The utensils looked similar to what you would see in a dentist’s office. This didn’t look good. In fact, it became downright depressing. I couldn’t remember having scheduled a dental appointment for today.

  Okay Tom, time to think this through. What would Batman do in a situation like this?

  How about nudging the bed closer to the table, grabbing the sharp utensil knife in one hand, and cutting through the strap that bound me to the bed. I would then be free to rescue my comrades, escape from the building, blow up the shield’s power grid, kill all the aliens, steal a time craft, return to 1978, and live happily ever after with my leading lady?

  Absolutely brilliant plan, Tom!

  There was only one small problem. This was not the movies and I was no Marvel hero. Monroe brought me back to reality when he entered the room.

  Well, earthling, there is no need for any more deceptions or tricks, he said. As you humans would say, it is time to get down to the nitty gritty, so I will get right to the point. Thank you for leading us to your clone. We allowed the rebels to shoot down our craft and rescue you. We suspected they would plan to disable the shield, so we were waiting. Now you can provide us with the rebels’ base location and their identities.

  Apparently, their rat was the one who got vaporized, since Monroe still needed that information.

  Uh oh. I was in a heap of trouble now. I hadn’t bothered to get any names, except for Tom-Tom, and they already knew him. Plus, I don’t recall Tom-Tom having GPS, so I had no idea of the base location.

  “I would if I could. No one told me their name and I have no idea where their camp is,” I said, knowing that was probably the wrong answer.

  You can read my mind, so you must know I am telling you the truth, I thought.

  Ah, but the rebels have probably trained you on how to hide some of your thoughts, said the alien.

  I knew it! I suspected all along there was a way to hide them, and he had kept it from me.

  I was hopeful you would cooperate. If not, then I will be forced to cause you much pain, Monroe said, with a sneer on his face. I’m getting the feeling he was hoping I wouldn’t cooperate.

  “I’m telling you the truth. My mother taught me to never lie,” I wisecracked, with a fake smile.

  By the look on his face, I could tell he wasn’t appreciating my sense of humor. Somebody must have gotten up on the wrong side of the bed.

  You will not think it to be funny when I demonstrate how much pain you can tolerate.

  Monroe, or whatever his name was, picked up one of the utensils and started yanking out my teeth.

  YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH, I screamed, as I spat blood at him.

  “That hurts. Don’t you have some truth serum you could use?”

  I prefer primitive methods. Much more effective, the alien snarled.

  And, when I am done pulling out all your teeth, I will start on your fingernails and work my way to your toenails.

  Christ! Who was it that outlawed water boarding? I had a bone to pick with them. It’s time to abandon this adventurous hero stuff.

  So what happened to ‘when the going gets tough, the tough get going’?

  Excuse me, but right about now, I’m not feeling so tough.

  “I told you I don’t know any names or have any idea where they are hiding,” I said, choking on the blood filling my mouth.

  “Oh, by the way, you wouldn’t happen to have any Ibuprofen or Extra Strength Tylenol handy, would you?”

  I figured it couldn’t hurt anymore to ask.

  He must not have had a funny bone anywhere in that alien body, as he grabbed another tooth and yanked it out.

  “YOU MOTHER FUCKER!” I shouted. (Mom, cover your ears).

  Pardon my French. My temper and the pain was getting the best of me. We all know that stressful situations can bring out the worst in people. I was definitely a little stressed at that moment. I would certainly be experiencing some post-traumatic stress disorder after this ordeal.

  “That’s the last straw,” I said, as I spat more blood at the alien. My anger and pain level had reached a ten.

  “Do you have any idea what my dentist will do to you when he sees what you’ve done. Then after he is done with you, I’m going to pluck those big weird looking eyes out and tear your mother frickin’ creepy looking head off that scrawny body of yours,” I screamed at him.

  Superman and Batman would have been proud, but I had to remind myself that this was not the comic books. That was real blood oozing out of my mouth and real pain shooting through my brain.

  You are not in any position to make any threats, earthling, Monroe pointed out, as he yanked out my last remaining tooth.

  It just so happened to be my only gold one. Can you imagine the price of gold in 2191? That little sucker would have done wonders for that cranky 401K portfolio of mine.

  I suppose you really do not know anything, or else you would have at least thought it by now, Monroe finally admitted.

  He turned and waved his hand over a console on the wall. Two other aliens entered the room.

  Terminate him along with the others. They are of no use to us anymore, Monroe told them.

  “HEY! WAIT! DAMN YOU TO HELL,” I screamed at him.

  “Aren’t you forgetting my fingernails and toenails?” I yelled, grasping at a last straw. />
  Anything to delay my execution. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. I thought I was the good guy. Good guys were supposed to prevail. Someone had gotten the script wrong.

  The aliens weren’t listening as they rolled me out into the hallway. I heard screams coming from behind each door we passed. They rolled me into a room that smelled of death and had me gagging even more. It was smoking hot from the inferno coming from a furnace. Human and other types of corpses covered the floor. Squiggly worm-like critters crawled from their eye sockets, ears, noses, and mouths. They got bigger and bigger as I looked upon the frightful sight. This was turning into one humongous nightmare.

  Time to wake up, Tom.

  Problem was, I was already awake. I had to admit that I was scared shitless. I’d never been this scared in my entire life. Fear within itself is impossible to define. It must be experienced to know its meaning. Right about now, its meaning was coming in loud and clear. I had found out that this Buck Rogers crap wasn’t any fun after all. No wonder he had retired a long time before. It also seemed highly unlikely that one of my superheroes would come to my rescue anytime soon. It appeared I had met my Waterloo and would be disappearing from the face of the earth in the past, present, and future.

  One of the aliens pulled out his laser gun, pointed it at my head, and said, sweet dreams, earthling, as he pulled the trigger.

  “NO!” I screamed, as my head exploded, revealing the alien half of me.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The Reconciliation

  “I think he is regaining conscious,” my nightmare echoed in a dense fog.

  Tom, can you hear me now?

  I recognized Monroe’s thoughts. My head felt like someone had been pounding on it with a sledge hammer.

  “Yes, I hear you. Why in the hell did you shoot me? Am I dead?”

  No. You are in the infirmary, recovering from the crash.

  “Infirmary? Crash? Oh! My! God! My teeth!” I gasped, as I recalled the nightmare.

  I put my hand to my mouth and breathed a sigh of relief when I felt that my teeth were still intact. Thank God!

  You have suffered a concussion in the accident and have been unconscious for two days, Monroe responded.

  “An accident? What accident?”

  Our craft malfunctioned as we were entering the dome and we crashed. We were smart to be wearing our seatbelts.

  “But I saw you shoot me,” I replied, totally confused.

  Why would I shoot you? asked a puzzled Monroe.

  “You mean I’m not dead and you’re not an alien?”

  No, Tom, you are not deceased. Why would you think me to be an alien? I have already explained all this? You must have had a hallucination in your coma, since you are speaking nonsense.

  A hallucination? In a coma? You got to be kidding me? You mean to tell me my torture and death was a hallucination? Wow, what a relief. Some hallucination, I thought with a tremendous sigh.

  Hallucinations, nightmares and dreams. Are we getting a wee bit confused? I bet you thought for sure I was history. I know I did.

  My headache quickly passed, as the futuristic healthcare had me back on my feet before you could shake a stick.

  Ok, Tom. Enough jacking around.

  It’s time to find out why my future ancestors had cloned and brought me back to the future. Hadn’t Monroe said something about he and my cloned brother requiring my assistance?

  Monroe and I left the infirmary and walked to another structure. As we entered the lobby, you will never guess who we ran into. There, walking in the opposite direction, were my two no-name NASA buddies on their way out. You do remember them? They were now wearing the same one-piece gray metallic cloth outfit that everyone wore (except the warriors) in this time frame along with helmets similar to mine. One need not worry about being in style in this day and age.

  I wondered what they were doing here in the future? I had thought I had left them in the past.

  “Hey guys! What’s going on?” I shouted and waved.

  Neither bothered to acknowledge my presence. I know they heard and saw me, as both looked my way. Oh well, they had always been a little snobbish anyway. Who needed snobbish friends? Then it dawned on me. They must have been cloned too. Were they here for the same reason as I?

  Once inside, these futuristic facilities became translucent. You couldn’t see any walls that separate the rooms. As we passed through the vast lobby, an opaque 3-D image could be seen in the middle of the room. It was suspended in midair and looked to be similar to a hologram. A crowd had gathered and was cheering the announcement that the Metropolis Cardinals (formerly St. Louis) had just come from four runs behind, in the bottom of the ninth inning, to win the 2191 World Series. A player named Freese V had hit a grand slam!

  Hey, Monroe, that’s my favorite baseball team. Way to go Cardinals! I said excitedly.

  The announcer went on to say that this was their forty-third World Series championship, putting them one up on the Metropolis Yankees. Seven of these championships had occurred during my lifetime. Well, I guess it was eight now.

  As it turned out, Monroe was a Cubs fan, so he didn’t share my enthusiasm. It also turned out that the poor Cubbies were in another long World Series drought.

  As I surveyed the room, it looked to be a World Archives Museum. I noticed pictograms displayed throughout the room. I walked over to one, noticed that it contained commemoratives of human history that involved time travel. The first one that caught my eye read:

  “June 13, 1947. Roswell, New Mexico. In memory of three brave pioneers who died in the first attempt to conqueror time travel.”

  Holy Cow! I thought. The Roswell story was true after all, except they mistook the bodies to be aliens.

  Also on display were numerous old-style military uniforms that covered many decades of history. A plaque displayed under one uniform caught my eye. It read:

  “In memory of USN Grumman TBF-1 Avenger Torpedo crewmen. Flight 19, Dec. 5, 1945. Bermuda Triangle.”

  Another display showed a female pilot standing by an aircraft. It read: “The Electra. Amelia Earhart. July 2, 1937.”

  I remember reading about them, I told Monroe, as he joined me.

  Two of the greatest mysteries of human history. In the early days of time travel and abductions, unfortunately, some things did not go according to plan, Monroe replied with sad eyes.

  “Like what?” I asked out loud, sending a echo through the silent room.

  Suddenly everyone in the room turned their eyes on me as if I had committed a Cardinal sin by speaking out loud.

  “Sorry,” I whispered.

  I sensed he didn’t want to continue the conversation, as he gave me that ‘above your pay grade’ look.

  Not to change the subject, but do you still play golf?

  Yes, we do, but at present we have more important matters to attend to, he said, rolling his big eyes as he guided me toward the elevators.

  What could be more important than golf? Bet you’re afraid I’d whoop your butt.

  That stopped him dead in his tracks. His frown and glare and then his thought went far beyond my comprehension.

  Okay, forget it, I said. No need to get all riled up. I’m just messing with you.

  Messing with one’s mind could have consequences, was his tense response.

  At this point, I figured it might be in my best interest to keep my thoughts to myself. If that was even possible.

  We took an elevator to an unspecified floor. I guess you would call it an elevator. It was nothing like I’d ever ridden and nothing I could possibly describe. It was like riding on air. There were no visible walls or floors. It messed with my equilibrium and I kept losing my balance. Monroe had to help steady me. It was sort of scary because I kept feeling like I would fall through to the ground floor.

  We departed the ‘elevator’ and walked down a hallway. The hallway floor was also translucent. I could see through all the way down to the bottom floor. Again, my equilib
rium was thrown off and Monroe had to help steady me. It was the weirdest sensation! Sort of like walking on thin air.

  We finally settled in a plain small room. Once in the room, the walls, floor and ceiling became opaque, rather than translucent. The room contained only a chair and a couch, with a small, low table wedged between them. All the furniture was suspended in air about a foot off the floor. A man who looked to be my twin jumped up from the chair to greet me as we entered.