by Jerry Hart
Owen looked into the mirror and saw his hair was as sloppy-cool as Cullen’s. The gel’s scent was nice. “Holy crap, this actually looks pretty good.”
“I know, right?”
The two of them stared at their reflections for a moment, then Owen said, “That truck outside—you said it’s yours?”
“Of course. Come on, I’ll show you; it’s badass.”
Owen followed him out of the bedroom and down the hall to the kitchen. Vanessa was there, pouring a bowl of cereal.
“What are you two doing?” she asked.
“I’m going to show him my truck.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean, that thing—”
“That thing ain’t botherin’ nobody,” Cullen said with a grin. He kissed her on her cheek and steered Owen toward the garage door. “Let’s go through here, though, so that monster doesn’t see us going through the front door.”
Owen laughed nervously. This was so surreal, he and his childhood best friend, sneaking through the garage while a monster stood a mile away. All for the purpose of seeing a nice truck.
Cullen hit the garage-door button and the motor overhead roared to life. Owen felt incredibly uncomfortable as the door grinded open—he wondered if Silver could hear it from where it stood. Cullen hit the button again to stop the door midway up, then he and Owen ducked under it and stood in the driveway.
Cullen ducked in front of his truck and peeked around the hood to the monster. Owen did the same. When Cullen turned around to look at Owen, he had a huge smile on his face.
“Ooh snap, son, this is exciting,” he said, then stood up to full height and strutted to the driver’s-side door. “Boy, that thing doesn’t care about us.”
Owen stood up and walked over to the passenger door, never taking his eyes off Silver. Cullen pulled his keys from his shorts and unlocked the doors. He climbed into his massive truck and sat in the driver’s seat. Owen climbed into the passenger seat.
“Ooh snap, son!” Cullen repeated. “This truck is the hotness, right?”
Owen nodded and studied the dashboard. It was gray and shiny, as if it had been waxed recently. The cab had that new-car smell that he loved and the seat was nice and comfortable. There was a bag of balloons by his feet. He tried not to step on it.
“Seatbelt’s broken, though,” Cullen said. “I’m getting it fixed soon; warranty will take care of it.”
“When did you buy it?”
“A few weeks ago. Brand new.”
Owen saw a bunch of CDs on the floor. “You listen to rap?” he asked.
“Boy, you silly,” Cullen said, and Owen suddenly remembered how Cullen always used that phrase a lot when they were younger along with “Ooh snap, son.” “I’ve always listened to rap. Don’t you remember?”
Owen honestly didn’t, and that added to his woes over his defective memory.
“Wanna go for a ride?” Cullen asked.
“Where?”
“Around the neighborhood, silly. We don’t have to go near ol’ Silver.”
“Okay.”
They closed their doors and Cullen started up the truck. It was surprisingly quiet. He backed down the driveway and drove down the hill, past the other houses. An old woman watched them drive by as she rocked in her chair on her front porch. She had a black shawl draped over her shoulders.
“That’s Ms. Summers,” Cullen said. “She’s weird, but nice.” He turned left—away from the street that led to the giant—and headed deeper into the neighborhood. The huge oak trees loomed over a lot of the houses and Owen felt the neighborhood was more like a forest.
He and Cullen rode mostly in silence, save for the music that was playing from the stereo. Considering Cullen was a country boy, Owen had been surprised that he was into rap. Owen didn’t listen to music much and didn’t have a preference. He liked the song that was playing, though.
There was a big yellow pump in the backseat. Owen stared at it for a moment, then said, “What’s that for?”
Cullen looked, then said, “For the balloons by your feet. Sidney’s birthday is coming up next week and I wanted to throw a big party for her. I don’t do things small, especially when it comes to my baby.”
Owen smiled. He still hadn’t gotten used to his friend being a father. “Does Sidney have a lot of baby friends?” he asked sarcastically.
“Shut up, butthole,” Cullen said with a laugh. “And yes, she does; she’s very popular, just like me.”
They were heading back to the house now. Owen had been surprised that his worries over everything, including Silver and Blue, had vanished during the ride, and wondered if that had been Cullen’s intention all along.
“There’s something I have to do, someone I have to look for,” Owen said.
Cullen didn’t reply, only listened.
“Can the guys stay here while I go out?” Owen asked.
“Depends. Are they potty-trained? Am I going to have to feed them or anything, because I already have a baby?” Cullen grinned. So did Owen.
* * *
Doug and Curtis sat on the couch, the TV turned to the news. Blue hadn’t moved since sending the signal to Silver. Silver was still standing at the top of the hill, looking around.
Doug held a bag of chips, launching a few into the air to catch in his mouth. One chip bounced off his cheek and fell into the couch. “Crap, I lost one,” he whispered, looking around for the Matthews.
“Keep it to yourself and you should be fine.” Curtis wasn’t looking at Doug or the TV; he was still drawing in his notepad.
Doug put the bag aside and looked at the pad. “What are you doing?”
Curtis stopped drawing and showed it to him. Silver and Blue (they were still in black and white, but Doug got the point) were standing back-to-back while people fled from them. There were dozens of cars and buildings on fire. The giants were destroying everything around them.
“Nice drawing,” Doug said nervously.
“This is what’s going to happen if we don’t do something soon,” Curtis said, staring seriously at Doug.
“We don’t know that for sure,” Doug countered, looking to the TV.
“I can feel it.”
“Dude, are you going to steal the orb or something? Because that’s just not cool.” Doug frowned.
“The thought has crossed my mind, but no, I’m not going to do that. I don’t trust Owen, though. Did you see the way he threw that car at Birch Plaza? He’s hiding something.”
On the TV, the news was reporting that a few tanks and helicopters were headed downtown, and that the government was going to try to communicate with Blue. The same was planned for Silver.
“Given this unprecedented event,” said Hal Morris of KDFH news, “plans to communicate with the alien beings are underway. It is unknown whether the blue giant’s actions earlier this morning were unintentional or an act of hostility.”
Hal stood at the opposite end of the street from Blue. The giant could be seen standing idly by in the background.
For how long it would continue to do so was still unknown.
* * *
Turning left onto Bear Hollow brought Owen directly in front of Silver, though the monster was a mile away. He could still see it just over the slope in front of him. He drove the little car slowly, afraid of attracting its attention. This was the only way around it.
Owen looked over to D, who was partially covered with the blanket. He desperately wanted someone to talk to right now, and the robot was on for some reason. Owen was afraid to even sneeze. He was so afraid, his heart pounded furiously.
The orb was in the backseat, most definitely powered off. He had checked several times before starting this trip. He wasn’t even sure what he was doing anymore. The plan had been to look for Chris in Birch Plaza, but chances were Chris wouldn’t still be there. Owen toyed with the idea of activating the orb just a little to see if it would attract Chris, but then thought that doing so would also attract the giants.
But not the shape-shifters. Owen knew they couldn’t come out during the day, for fear of suffering a deadly sunburn.
He was getting closer to Silver now. Too close. He slowed down even more, so that he was hardly moving at all. The road consisted of only two lanes, with ditches on either side. Silver was at the top of the highest slope, completely blocking passage.
* * *
The Matthews joined Doug and Curtis in the living room to watch the communication attempt with Blue. Vanessa held Sidney, patting her on the back. Five tanks were rolling down the streets of downtown, surrounding the giant on both sides and in front. There were also a few helicopters hovering overhead. Blue looked at them all in turn.
There was no telling what was going to happen. The cameraman was taking in the entire scene, getting the cops’ reactions.
“That’s Officer Fisher,” Doug suddenly said, recognizing him immediately. The officer was talking to a woman in a police uniform.
Suddenly, Blue gave a loud, horrible moan. Doug recognized it as the sound he had heard coming from the sky on their way here. The godly voice.
That’s when the unthinkable happened. The tanks blew up one after another, and then the choppers did the same, their fiery remains crashing down into the street. Vanessa screamed and Cullen pulled her into his arms. Sidney started to whine.
The cameraman, who had been panicking a minute before, running from the fiery crash of the copters, was now aiming at Blue once again. Something was happening with the giant. Its chest was separating, revealing a dark cavity. Blue reached into his chest and pulled something out. It looked like a scepter of some kind, and it looked to be made of chrome. Doug guessed it was about twenty or thirty feet long.
No—longer. It was stretching in both directions. On one end, there was a large, round lens.
And then Blue jammed the scepter into the ground with earth-shaking force. The camera shook violently and many people, the cameraman included, fell to the ground. Blue bellowed to the sky with that same shriek from before.
Curtis got up from the couch and ran to the window. Doug and the others followed. Sure enough, Silver was reaching into his chest and pulling out a scepter. There was a tiny car on the road in front of it. It was stopped in front of the giant. Doug recognized it.
Silver drove the ever-growing spear into the ground, causing a horrible rumble that could be felt from the house. Sidney started crying.
“Do not approach us!” a deep voice echoed from the TV. It was Blue—the giant was speaking, though its lips weren’t moving. “We are searching for something. Once we find it, we will leave. Do not approach us again or we will respond with violence.”
* * *
Owen looked up at the scepter that Silver had just planted in front of him. It had a large lens on its tip. The lens was growing steadily brighter. The giant reached into its chest again and pulled out another scepter. Owen put the car into reverse and backed away quickly.
CHAPTER 12
Owen was back at the Matthews house in no time, his face sweaty and ghostly white. Now he sat at the dining table once again, the backpack in his lap. Doug and Curtis had filled him in on what happened downtown.
For hours Owen sat at the table. The day grew later and darker and he was still no closer to finding out the secrets of the orb or the invaders, and his plan to find Chris had failed. The only way he could think to get past Silver was to walk past him, but Owen’s heart wasn’t into it right now.
He felt lazy and worthless. He almost felt like crying, but decided there was no way he was going to do that. He had cried enough at the condo last night.
Even more frustrating was he couldn’t remember the time he’d spent here after his dad’s death. He looked down at the orb in his backpack. He wanted to touch it for some reason. Something told him that if he touched it, he’d remember things that were locked away in his mind.
All he had to do was touch it.
* * *
Doug and Curtis stood in front of the TV once again, finding out whatever they could about what had happened downtown. Hal Morris, the indestructible reporter, stood a good distance from Blue.
“Officials say they can’t account for why the tanks’ and choppers’ weapons detonated,” Henry said into his microphone, “and there are rumors that the military intended to fire upon the blue giant without attempting to first communicate with it. These reports are being denied by the…”
Curtis couldn’t listen to any more. This was getting out of hand. They all knew the invaders wanted the orb, but no one was even considering giving it to them. And now the beasts were planting strange scepters into the ground (Blue and Silver had planted four in their respective areas, forming some kind of circle facing north, south, east and west).
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that something bad was being planned for Earth. Curtis knew he had to act if he wanted to save the planet from whatever fate lay before it. He turned around and saw Owen staring right at him, a creepy sort of look on his face. It was as if he knew what Curtis was thinking of doing, and was planning to stop it before it happened.
* * *
Doug looked out the window again, not at Silver, but at someone standing at the end of their street. It was an Asian boy of seventeen or eighteen, and he was staring directly at the sky.
That wasn’t the weirdest part, though. The boy was completely naked and holding a basketball. Doug wanted to laugh, but found himself unable to. The teenager raised an arm and pointed skyward. Doug gasped as the arm turned black and lengthened.
“Curtis, get over here,” Doug almost yelled.
Curtis ran up next to him and stared down the street. The boy was still there, pointing at the sky.
“What the hell?” Curtis said.
“I think it’s one of those things, like at the plaza.”
“What’s it doing here?”
The sky was still very cloudy, blocking out the sun. It looked as if night had arrived, even though it was only four in the afternoon. The boy, who was still looking up at the sky, opened his mouth. Doug and Curtis could hear an inhuman scream coming from him. Then he retreated into a house at the end of the street. Curtis ran for the front door.
“What are you doing?” Doug asked nervously.
“We have to help whoever lives in that house,” Curtis responded. He was halfway out the door.
“Owen!” Doug screamed, running into the kitchen. Owen was staring straight ahead in his seat, his hands inside the backpack. Doug ran up to him and shook him violently. Owen didn’t respond.
“Come on!” Curtis screamed. “Leave him!”
“What’s going on?” Vanessa asked, walking from her room at the end of the hall.
“No time,” Curtis said, grabbing Doug’s shirt sleeve. They ran out the door and into the street.
* * *
Owen awoke in a room that was not his own. His vision was blurry so he rubbed his eyes. He was in Cullen’s room and it was nighttime. Cullen snored away in the top bunk. Owen got up from the bed and went to the bathroom. His vision was still blurry. He looked into the mirror and saw his fourteen-year-old self staring back.
Something wasn’t right. He couldn’t put his finger on it, though. At the moment he looked into the mirror, he’d felt like two people at the same time. But why? He was just Owen Walters, right?
And then he realized what was wrong. He wasn’t supposed to be fourteen. He was actually sixteen. He then realized what was going on: He was dreaming.
No, not dreaming; remembering.
He was remembering his time at the Matthews house after his dad died. He was aware of this and, yet, not aware at the same time. His young self was still going about his business automatically, without his older consciousness interfering.
Young Owen went back to bed. Older Owen decided not to even try to control his actions. Instead, he just sat back and let the events unfold. What happened here had always been a mystery to him anyway. Let the others in the present worry ab
out Silver and Blue while Owen retreated into his memories for a spell.
He felt cold wetness in the bed with him, but didn’t make an attempt to see what it was. Before he knew it, morning arrived. The sun was poking through the blinds of Cullen’s window. The bedroom door opened and Cullen’s father walked in. He was wearing a blue robe and matching slippers. He was bald and had a bristly mustache.
“Wake up, boys. I need help with the yard work—” He stopped abruptly and his fat face turned red. “Damn it, boy, you are too old to be wettin’ the bed. This is the second time this week.”
Owen realized Mr. Matthews was talking to him. He looked down and saw a big wet spot on the front of his pajama pants. Mr. Matthews grabbed Owen and pulled him forcefully from the bed.
“What did I tell you, boy?” he asked Owen, shaking him.
“Dad,” Cullen said from the top bunk. Mr. Matthews didn’t even look up at his son; he continued shaking Owen.
“Why don’t you look at me, boy?” he asked Owen. “I don’t know how your father could stand you, always peein’ the bed like this. Clean yourself up!”
Mr. Matthews let go of Owen and left the room. Cullen jumped down and put his hand on Owen’s shoulder. “Come on, silly. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Owen followed Cullen absently into the bathroom where Cullen was getting the shower started.
“Can you take it from here?” he asked Owen. Older Owen tried to answer but Young Owen said nothing. Not even a nod of the head. Cullen just shrugged and left the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Now Owen was sitting in the kitchen with a bowl of cereal on the table in front of him—time appeared to have jumped ahead. Cullen sat across from him, staring nervously at his father, who was also sitting at the table. Mr. Matthews had a newspaper held in front of him.
Cullen looked at Owen now, then down at Owen’s cereal. He nodded his head toward it, and Old Owen knew Cullen was telling him to eat it before his dad saw that he hadn’t touched it.
Owen picked up his spoon and scooped some of the cereal into his mouth. He didn’t chew it, though. Mr. Matthews suddenly looked at him from behind the paper, not the least bit subtle about it.