The Abduction Chronicles

by Thomas L. Hay

  We loaded food rations, water supplies, camping equipment, and a couple breathing apparatus for Tom and Karen into the vehicles. If you recall, the atmosphere outside the Domes was thin. Monroe’s kind, the clones, and the originals’ children were adapted to the thin air and didn’t require them.

  There weren’t that many supplies since Monroe indicated our trip shouldn’t take more than a few days, if that.

  The food came in the form of energy bars that supposedly provided all our nutritional needs. Oh man, no steak, pizza, or ice cream to satisfy my taste buds. Caren and I might be losing some weight on this trip.

  The Warriors packed rope, flashlights, and camping gear into their vehicle.

  “Don’t forget the sunscreen,” Caren said.

  “Honey, we’re not going golfing, fishing, or to the beach. Besides, we will be in the vehicles or underground most of the time.”

  “What if a vehicle breaks down? I’m just saying...better to be safe than sorry,” she replied giving me ‘that look’.

  There is sun protection in our supplies, Monroe assured us.

  His intervention came to my rescue and put an end to our little discussion.

  “Okay then. Let’s saddle up! It’s time to get this show on the road,” I barked, striking a Bolt pose and pointing a finger on each hand toward the exit.

  Monroe’s confused expression told me he probably had no idea who Bolt was and what my gesture meant. So Caren tried to clarify.

  “Bolt was a Olympic Gold medalist. The fastest human being of our time. Let’s make like Bolt and truck on down the road,” she remarked joyfully. She was participating in our ornery little game we had going with our grandson.

  I gave her a high five, as we were on the same page.

  We could tell that only added to his bewilderment, as we noticed another puzzled expression and a slight shaking of his head.

  My grandparents must be senile, was what I thought I heard him think.

  “Let’s shake a leg,” I added, knowing that would only add to his confusion.

  He looked at us like we were aliens who had come from another planet. This generation gap language had to be trying for him. We had turned the tables on him. Usually it’s the grandkids whose expressions stump the grandparents. Hope God doesn’t judge Caren and me for our transgressions. We were just having some fun with him because it seemed our younger generation forgot how to have fun.

  Monroe, I and Caren boarded one vehicle, with the three Warriors occupying another.

  We shot out the tube, cruising through the wastelands, heading east on what had once been Interstate 70. I-70 had been the main route that had connected Lawrence and Kansas City in Tom’s timeframe.

  We passed through the unmanned and half missing Toll Plaza. There was no troll to collect a toll on this day. Didn’t even have to purchase a prepay ticket to avoid the rush hour traffic. But then, there was no need to fret about any rush hour traffic.

  Once into the vacant city, we turned north on I-35, which would lead us to the Missouri River bluffs and SubTropolis. Why Monroe chose to follow the old highway routes was beyond me. With vehicles that travel above the ground, I would think taking a direct route would be more time saving.

  There you go thinking again, Caren would say.

  The old highways were full of pot holes and some weird vegetation sprouting out of large cracks in the concrete pavement. Some sections of the road were completely missing for a quarter of a mile or so. But our cruise was smooth as silk as the vehicles never touched the ground.

  “Giddy up! Can’t this pony go any faster?” I asked Monroe. “We don’t have to worry about getting pulled over by a cop.”

  The vehicle speed is programmed to a safe level according to the surrounding terrain, was his asserted answer.

  I suspect Monroe was not all that thrilled for another ‘Fast and Furious’ sequel. But then, he probably had never even heard of, let alone seen the movies I was referring.

  As we cruised along, I couldn’t help but marvel at the sights of the barren wasteland. The vista which lay before us was bleak, harsh, and scarce. The land was parched with very little vegetation. A single weed growth sprung here and there from the dry dust-covered ground. A slight breeze would stir up a whirlwind of dust and send tumbleweeds dancing across the barren land. There were just a few unhealthy trees scattered across the landscape. The lack of vegetation was what made the air so thin.

  Most of the river beds and lakes had very little water to speak of because it rained only a few times a year. But when it did rain, Monroe told us, it poured and washed away everything in its path, creating mud holes out of the dust. According to Monroe, this is the look of the entire planet outside the Domes.

  We observed bones scattered sparsely over the landscape. Some looked to be human. Some looked to have been eaten on. So much for Kansas City’s famous barbecued ribs.

  There were still some buildings and structures in place. But they were very old and run down. Most were leaning as others had collapsed in a pile of rubble. There were still a few road signs and billboards struggling to stay upright in the shifting winds. The ones that hadn’t fallen were decapitated and leaning badly. All were faded and mostly unreadable. All of this brought to mind pictures I use to see of old American Western ghost towns of the 1800’s.

  A few low puffy clouds, mostly gray, with a few white spots sprinkled in, obscured the wasteland with creepy shadows. Silence lay thick over the parched land as we observed a dust devil dancing sporadically across the flowing landscape. These sights dampened our morale as Caren and I sat silently in the depressing environment. It saddened us to think that this was to be the land of our future.

  How had mankind lost their grip on nature’s earthly paradise? A little bitty tear let me down. Spoiled my act as a clown. I could tell Caren was having the same thoughts as her eyes were also watered.

  We were approaching the Missouri River bluffs when Caren indicated she had to go.

  “Nature is calling,” she advised.

  “One or two?” I asked.

  “Tom, what differences does it make.”

  “Why didn’t you go before we left?” As soon as the words escaped, I knew I had put my foot in my mouth. I’ve had this problem all my life, saying something before thinking.

  “I didn’t have to go then,” she replied, somewhat agitated that I would ask such a stupid irritating question.

  She then gleefully gave me the finger, tacked on with a fake smile.

  “Is that your age or IQ?” I playfully asked.

  Monroe cooled the anxiety, There should be a rest stop or service station in the vicinity. Although the restrooms are unfunctionable, they should serve the purpose.

  Sure enough, it wasn’t but a couple of minutes we came upon a Quik Trip still standing, although barely. It was leaning badly, and all the windows had been broken out. It would have to do.

  I thought it weird there were big mounds of dirt scattered around the grounds outside the store. They reminded me of ant hills, only these suckers were much bigger. Some at least three feet high. I could only imagine what created them.

  Caren and I departed the vehicle and walked through the store searching for the unfunctionable bathrooms. All the shelves in the store were dusty and bare. I couldn’t help but noticed a few more of the dirt mounds inside the store.

  I thought that since we were stopping, we might as well kill two birds with one stone.

  “We best make it quick. I don’t trust this building to stand much longer,” I warned, as the whole atmosphere was a bit spooky.

  Ironically, she went to the ladies bathroom while I went to the men’s just across the hall. The signs were faded but readable. Creatures of habit.

  I had just finished shaking my noodle when Caren let out a loud, blood-curdling scream. Sounded like she was passing a kidney stone. I zipped it so fast that I clipped my noodle in the zipper. I too let out a scream as I sprinted toward her cry for help to see what the fuss
was all about.

  As I approached her bathroom door, she let out another scream.

  “I’m coming, honey. Hang on,” I shouted, finally getting my noodle loose and my pants zipped back up.

  But the dad gum bathroom door was stuck. I backed up and heaved my shoulder into it. It busted open, spilling me and the door to the floor. I jumped up and saw her sitting on a stool, her jumpsuit down around her ankles, with a horrendous mole type creature tugging on one of the legs of her jumpsuit. Only this mole was about ten times the size as any I had ever seen. It squeaked as it shook its head and scrabbled to keep hold with its long sharp teeth. It had apparently emerged from one of those dirt mounds that was a few feet from the stool she was sitting on.

  “Get it off,” she screamed in desperation, kicking at it.

  I searched for something to hit it with. Wouldn’t you know it, that of all times, I couldn’t find a darn thing. I started to panic when I heard a swish ker-splat sound. A laser beam had hit the creature. It exploded into a mushy mess of foul-smelling blood, skin, and bones. The debris splattered all over the stall and a startled Caren. A Warrior was standing behind me and had made use of his handy hardware.

  “You okay?” I asked, as I rushed to her side and cupped her frightened face in my hands.

  “Yes. It just had hold of the pant leg, not my leg. Thank you,” she nodded to the Warrior.

  He just nodded back, like nothing had happened.

  “Well that scared the crap out of me,” she joked.

  All this commotion started a chain reaction. The entire building started making a loud crackling sound and began to shift.

  “Run,” I shouted.

  But Caren could only hop on one leg as she was still half out of her jumpsuit. The Warrior handed me his weapon and lifted her up in his arms as we made a mad dash to escape the falling building.

  We narrowly made it out as it collapsed in a pile of rubble, sending a cloud of dust flying everywhere.

  Caren pulled her jumpsuit up and wiped her hands over her face and jumpsuit, trying to remove the entrails. Her expression was a mixture of relief and disgust.

  “Can you find something I can use to clean up a bit?” She asked, shaking more entrails off her hands.

  No sooner had she spoken, the Warrior came back with a towel.

  After she wiped the reeking debris off, Monroe sprayed her with a sweet smelling mist. We made our way back to our vehicles and continued trucking on down the road.

  I had an eerie feeling that this mole creature wouldn’t be the last of our strange encounters.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Discovery

  We continued our journey on I-35. At least, I thought it was I-35. With most of the road signs and pavement in disarray or completely missing, I was going mostly on memory. Luckily, our vehicles didn’t touch the ground because the Paseo bridge completely disappeared over the Missouri River. Only there was no more Mighty Mo. Just a dry river bed with a few puddles of water here and there. Most of the big cables that held the bridge had snapped and were dangling in the air. Ruins of old river barges that once navigated the waters carrying various cargo in our day lay scattered about in the dry river bed.

  We continued on until we reached old highway I-435 and turned east. The vehicles must have had some kind of GPS programmed to take us to our destination. Passing what was once Worlds of Fun and Oceans of Fun gave me even more jitters. I had once ridden the popular roller coasters and water slides. Now there were but a few structures and railways left standing next to the empty parking lot.

  A few more miles we crested a ridge and arrived at our destination. The trip hadn’t taken but 45 minutes, even with the potty stop.

  Are you getting any indication that Tom and Karen are in the immediate vicinity? asked Monroe.

  “Nope,” I replied.

  “Me either,” said Caren.

  What are we going to do now? I wondered while biting my lip.

  The cavern is 150 feet below the surface. Debris could be blocking your ESP, Monroe surmised. We shall commence a search of the cavern.

  The Warriors started searching for a entrance but found none. It appeared that the original entrance to the cavern had collapsed to obstruct the entry. Tons of rock and dirt from the above cliffs now blocked our way.

  Using a small electronic device, one Warrior determined that the thickness was about five feet in depth at the blocked entrance.

  “Everyone stand back,” he warned, as he aimed his laser weapon at a spot in the rubble.

  Dust and debris pierced the air, spitting chucks of rock and dirt about. The laser beam soon drilled a hole that was barely large enough to crawl through. Two of the Warriors went first.

  “You expect Caren and me to crawl through there? We’re a little old for this. Besides, I’ve had a knee and hip replacement, and the doctors would not be too pleased to hear that I’m crawling through a hole I can barely fit through.” I rubbed my hip while looking imploringly at Monroe.

  “Quit being such a sour puss. Think of it as another adventure,” my lovely wife added, sticking her tongue out at me.

  “Yes, dear,” I said. That’s my standard reply when I know I said something before thinking.

  “Ladies first,” I gestured.

  Caren followed two of the Warriors who had already crawled through.

  “Well. if she can do it,” I said, as I reluctantly got down on my hands and knees and squeezed my way through the small tunneled entrance.

  The third Warrior followed me. Only he didn’t make it all the way through. As soon as I exited into the carven, the tunnel suddenly collapsed, spilling tons of dirt and rock into the crawl space. A heavy cloud of dust caused everyone to choke and cough as it covered our bodies. The third Warrior was trapped beneath a ton of debris.

  “Quick, we have to do something,” Caren shouted, as she began pulling fallen chunks of rock away.

  I quickly joined in, but couldn’t understand why Monroe or the other two Warriors didn’t pitch in to help. They just stood there like nothing had happened.

  I was about to say something when a hand appeared out of the rubble. Debris started to shift as another hand appeared, and then his whole body sprang forward as if he were shot out of a cannon. He landed on his feet and dusted himself off like nothing serious had happened. He appeared to not have a scratch on him, although his clothing was shredded in several places.

  Caren and I looked at each other in amazement.

  “Holy Mackerel! Did you see that?”

  “Unbelievable,” she replied, shaking her head.

  Now I figured the Warriors to be super humans, because of their genetic enhancements. But Gee Whiz, Superman was the only person I would think could do something like that. And he ain’t human.

  Can you or Caren sense your originals presence? Monroe asked, bringing us back to reality.

  “Nothing,” I said.

  “Same here,” Caren announced.

  After the dust had settled, I looked around the cavern we had just entered. Amazingly, the cavern was dimly lit with what appeared to be natural light. But I couldn’t see where the light originated. It was just there.

  “Are we searching the entire facility?” I asked.

  Yes. Because you cannot sense them, may not indicate that they are not present. They may have found a way to block your receptions. The Warriors will do the searching. We will remain here until they have completed their search.

  “There’s 1,100 acres to cover. Don’t you think that it would be much faster if we split up and have everyone searching?” I said, giving him my two cents worth.

  That would be too dangerous. We have no idea as to what may be lurking in these caverns. In addition, we would only slow them down.

  “Okie Dokie. You’re the boss.”

  But I thought it odd as we had been brought along to help find Tom and Karen and now we would be sitting on the sideline. I couldn’t shake the feeling that Monroe was keeping something from us.


  We sat down on the ground and broke out some rations as the Warriors disappeared into the caverns. I noticed Caren had a strange look on her face.

  “You have to go again…so soon?”

  “No, honey. It’s a bit creepy in here, and I’m just a little nervous about all this,” she replied.

  No sooner had she spoken, we heard a horrendous bellow in the direction the Warriors had gone. It sounded like one big bad ass, pissed off creature. I immediately saw laser beams casting reflections all around the cavern. All kinds of weird noises started coming from the direction the Warriors had gone. There was definitely some kind of frightful commotion taking place.

  The noise and light show stirred up a flock of bats that came flying out of nowhere in every which direction, squealing their dissatisfaction for being disturbed. Only these bats were about twice the size of any I had ever seen.

  “Hit the deck!” I shouted, as the bats whizzed overhead in a frantic flight.

  This scary commotion lasted another five minutes before all went quiet again. Caren was the first to speak.

  “Wonder what that was all about?”

  Do not worry, Monroe said, the Warriors can handle themselves.

  I had no doubt about that after seeing one dig himself out from under tons of rubble, with nary a scratch.

  “We got more company,” Caren said, pointing to the other side of the cavern.

  There in the dim light were two bright shining eyes staring at us.

  “Monroe, did you bring a flashlight?”

  The words had just escaped my mouth when a beam from Monroe lit up that corner of the cavern.

  In the beam stood a funny looking little creature. It wasn’t but about a foot in height. It stood on its two tiny hind legs. Two huge eyes stared at us on a small head. Sort of looked like an overweight chipmunk wearing oversized flight goggles.

  “Ah! Isn’t it cute?” Caren said, as she walked toward it.