The triangle’s carvings instantly lit up into a red neon brightness.
‘General, the triangle!’ shouted John as he pointed towards the panel.
The grooves in the wall began to fill with a white light that ran through them like liquid. Hargreaves’ face shot back from the steel as the light completed its cycle. A large slab of the wall opened with force; everyone jumped at the movement. The General zig-zagged several feet backwards, stunned by the sudden action.
Standing in the doorway were two seven-feet tall grey beings. Their massive black eyes glared intimidatingly down upon the trembling humans. The mist circled them before slowly clearing and revealing their full appearance.
Terrified screams reverberated the walls. Mark and John grabbed hold of the General’s arms to steady him as he scrambled away from the creatures. The three of them barely managed to stay on their feet as they skidded through the grime.
The aliens’ thin mouths tightened as they bent down and reached out with long wrinkly arms. Enormous, bulb-shaped heads hovered closer as the humans shouted and cried, huddling each other as they were shepherded into the corner like cattle. With nowhere to go, they all fell to the floor and covered their heads with shaking arms.
Stay where you are – or die!
The words entered each of the humans’ minds simultaneously, echoing around their skulls. Hargreaves glanced up from within the tangle of limbs. A sneer curved the nearest creature’s mouth. It thrust its face through the red tinge, and directly into the General’s quickening paleness.
The group continued to cling to each other as the two Greys turned and exited the room with a stilt-like walk. Pained screams – human – could be heard from outside of the door before it closed abruptly. They all kept still for a while until they were sure that the aliens would not be returning. They slowly rose to their feet.
‘Jesus Christ!’ said John as he held his rough hands to his black hair, ‘I can’t fucking believe this!’
‘Fucking hell, what’s happening?’ added the thin man, trembling as he looked at them, as though they knew the answers.
James walked up to Mark and grabbed him by his blue shirt, crumpling handfuls of the light material. The force took the Professor by surprise, pushing him back before he dug his heels in. ‘What’s going on, Mark? You’re the expert, tell us why we’re here!’ he said, maintaining his strong grip. ‘Aliens?! What the fuck!’
‘I don’t know, James. I’m just as confused and scared as you are,’ he replied, trembling fiercely. He placed his hands gently over James’ who, seeing that the Professor was equally as frightened, relaxed his grip on the creased shirt. ‘I feel like I should know something, but I can’t remember.’ With that, he slid back to the floor and placed his hands over his head.
Emotion rippled James’ smooth-skinned appearance. ‘Does anyone know?’ he asked. His full bottom lip began to quiver. ‘Someone must know.’
‘I think I do,’ said Hargreaves as his square jaw came into the pale glow. ‘I think that we are on one of the extraterrestrial ships.’
They all looked towards him; his eyes had a sudden glaze to them. He took a deep breath and dropped down against the wall.
James narrowed his eyes. ‘Ships?’
Mark cocked his head to one side. ‘This makes sense, this is why we can’t remember anything. It’s because of the mist – it’s all a hallucination. You see, some compounds within certain drugs have these effects on people. Obviously they –’
He was cut off rudely.
‘Yes.’ Hargreaves let out a huge sigh. He rubbed his lined forehead with the palm of his shovel-like hand. ‘Yes, James, you heard right.’
‘Heard what right, exactly?’ said John as his limbs refused to stop shaking.
Hargreaves addressed the group. ‘My colleagues and I were interviewing an extraterrestrial being at Area 51, trying to get information regarding a potential threat to our country’s sovereignty. Things got messy, then there was a bright light – and now I’m here amongst you… in this place.’ He looked around, staring at the walls with a mixture of disgust and embarrassment. They appeared to perspire as the moisture glistened in the faded light.
‘So, this is your fault that we’re trapped here like animals,’ interjected James angrily. ‘And you’re only telling us this now?’
He walked purposefully towards Hargreaves, skating to a halt on the floor as John stepped forward to block his path.
‘Now come on, no one is to blame. This is an unforeseen event,’ John said as he gently held the angry youngster by his left upper arm. ‘How can anyone have predicted that this was going to happen?’
James shrugged off the light grip, irritated at the gesture. ‘How can you all be so calm?! What the fuck is wrong with you people?’
‘He’s right, it is my fault,’ said Hargreaves as he unbuttoned his jacket, allowing himself to breathe more easily. He remained crouched, balancing his weight upon his aching feet. ‘We were warned what would happen, but it was already upon us.’ He stared at the floor as he stroked the top of his head in a calming manner. ‘We should have acted immediately.’
Mark’s expression changed as the General’s words soaked into his brain. ‘What do you mean “it was already upon us”?’ he asked, perplexed.
Hargreaves lifted his head. ‘Exactly what I said, Professor. We could have done more – should have done more.’
The group dealt with the events and admissions in their own ways. James comforted Tom, who sat in the filth, a crumbling wreck. He couldn’t conceive the reality of what was happening around him. His body still shivered in the cold; the hairs on his arms bristled. James gesticulated for Tom to rub his arms in an attempt to get the blood flowing, but it seemed that his gesture fell flat.
The thin, brown-haired stranger leaned with his back against the dank wall. His slim hands rested in the pockets of his baggy grey jogging bottoms. His cocksure attitude – a world away from his earlier terror – showed in his lazy stance. He removed his hands and nonchalantly began twirling the dark grey aglets that sheafed the lace of his matching hoodie. If he was still scared, he wasn’t showing it.
John and Mark both stood. They gave each other a hard stare, as though together they were thinking the same thing – to sympathise with Hargreaves’ predicament. John slipped his hands into the pockets of his olive parka jacket. He shrugged towards the Professor, letting him know that he was welcome to proceed.
Mark coughed, clasping his hands together to keep warm. ‘So, who were the others, the ones who warned you?’
Hargreaves peered up at the Professor with burdened, bloodshot eyes. His tough personality dropped its guard, making him vulnerable, if only for a brief moment. ‘Does it really matter? It was too late anyway. They lied, probably a trick of some sort,’ he suggested. ‘I’m still only remembering fragments at the moment though. I have a feeling that we are all suffering from a form of memory loss.’
‘Who lied, General?’
‘The creature we were interviewing was one of those bastards!’ he snapped, pointing towards the door. ‘It said that it was warning us against two other races, Greens and Blues or something.’
‘What does that mean, Greens and Blues?’
The General rolled his eyes. ‘Greens and blues – colours, Professor!’ He looked back at the door. ‘Think about it, those freaks are grey. It was all misdirection.’
‘Misdirection, but why, for what purpose?’
‘I have no idea,’ said Hargreaves bluntly.
Mark stumbled over to Hargreaves, who shouldered the entire blame upon his heavy build. ‘Nobody’s to blame. Besides, what difference does it make? They are far more technologically advanced than us.’ He lowered himself down next to the General. ‘Yes, I agree, General, it would have been too late. But how do you know all of this? You’ve just said yourself that you’re only receiving fragments. I mean, none of us seems to be able to remember anything.’ A suspicious look crossed Mark’s face. ‘Have yo
u known since we woke here?’
‘No. Let’s just say that when those “things” entered this room, it hit me like a brick to the head. Their faces… I remembered their faces.’
Silence dominated the room as they paced, pondered and hoped. James remained with Tom, his arm around the man’s shoulders as they huddled to keep warm. Tom stared blankly, as though he had switched off. James turned from him, his own attention drawn by the strange mist. He sat watching, mesmerised as it curled within itself, almost alive.
Mark and John squatted next to each other again, their eyes scanning the room in an uncomfortable silence. John tried to gather the hem of his jacket as it brushed the dirty floor. Mark buttoned the top of his own shirt; he had noticed that another drop in temperature had occurred.
The stranger stood quietly alone as he stared at the humbled General. ‘For Christ’s sake, what’s the next step?’ he asked finally as he relaxed his skinny arms. He used his right foot to launch himself forwards from the wall.
The others looked to him as his words woke them from their slumbering thoughts.
‘That’s a good question, friend. I’m sorry, but what’s your name? I didn’t get it,’ asked Mark.
‘Daniel, Daniel Lambert. I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself earlier as there were, are, more important things to worry about.’ He ruffled his short hair with his fingertips, and nodded towards Mark with dark brooding eyes.
The Professor acknowledged the courtesy. ‘He’s right, we’ve got to get out of here.’
‘That’s not what I meant,’ Daniel laughed. ‘Besides, how are we going to get out of the door, and then past God knows how many of these creatures? And all this ends with us getting off this craft?’
‘Should we even try?’ said James as he looked to Daniel, who again fidgeted with the cords of his hoodie. ‘We still don’t even know what’s going on, do we?’
A gentle throb began to course underneath the steel grating of the room. They looked at each other with worrying glances as they tried to balance their body weight.
John slid his torso up the wall. ‘Are we moving, or do you reckon we’re static, you know, hovering?’
‘I don’t know. Might just be the propulsion systems that are kicking in,’ said Mark as he sat on the floor. Yeah, kicking in to begin flight – or to end it, to land!
Tom whimpered as he rocked his cold body back and forth; he looked shot to bits as the throb pulsated through his body in nauseating waves.
‘He’s done in, don’t you think?’ said John as he looked increasingly worried by Tom’s cracking sanity. ‘I wonder what happened to him? He’s not right, better keep an eye on him.’
Mark rubbed his chin with the back of his hand, itching his skin with the sharp stubble. ‘I think that something happened to his wife, but I’m not sure. I would definitely say that he’s getting worse though, especially since the aliens revealed themselves.’ He moved his hand around to the back of his hairline. ‘Something bad frightened him – hurt him.’
Tom’s eyes projected an innocence, looking through them as they discussed his ever decreasing psyche. His left hand yanked hard on James’ light cotton jacket sleeve, desperate for attention. With his right, he stroked the sweaty hair back from his eyes. ‘My wife, my Connie,’ he whispered in a hoarse croak.
James turned and felt Tom’s warm forehead, guessing that he was feverish. His look to the others did little to instill any confidence in them.
Tom cried hard as the memories stung his soul. He pushed his head deep into James’ arms, which tightened more with each heartfelt sob.
‘You can remember your wife?’ Mark walked closer towards the two hunched men. ‘How?’
Tom’s eyes peered out from the comfort of James’ jacket forearm. ‘My wife, my Connie.’
The Professor placed his hands on his hips, staring sadly at Tom before turning his own teary glance away. ‘I’m sorry, Tom. To lose someone is awful, especially a loved one.’
He sighed as he looked to Hargreaves, who continued to glare at the dirty flooring, ashamed of himself. He watched as John fought his way through the haze, still shaking his head as he leant and patted the General on his large shoulder. This was not the time for blame as they all shared Tom’s grief.
‘Ahhh!’ shrieked James, startling the others. A crawling feeling slowly tickled his fair skin. He glanced down at his denim covered calf. ‘What the fuck?’ A strange blue inch-long insect – like an alien version of a cockroach – had scampered underneath the right leg of his jeans, and across his goose bump-laden skin.
‘What’s the matter?’ asked John, attentions diverted.
‘Fucking hell!’ James clawed at his trouser leg with urgency, desperate to flush out the insect. ‘Don’t you dare bite me, you little shit.’
Mark skidded through the mist, and tried to assist the freaked out teenager. ‘Keep still, I can’t help you otherwise.’ He pulled James to his feet while trying to lift the denim over the youngster’s calf muscle. ‘Now shake your leg! Don’t let it bite you, we don’t know if it’s poisonous. Shake your leg!’
The insect dropped onto his black woolly sock; the thornlike barbs that protruded out from its legs caught in the fluffy material, leaving it dangling in a frenetic spin.
‘Get it off!’ James shouted angrily. After realising that it no longer posed any threat, he looked closer at it. His expression changed to one of hatred as he flicked it hard, sending it reeling to the floor. He walked over to where it crawled, dazed. A large black leather boot shadowed the creature before crushing it with force; pink guts exploded out from underneath the sole of his right boot. His mouth dropped in disgust as he furiously scraped the tread over the grating, desperate to remove the mess. ‘Fucking insects,’ he shuddered.
The commotion sent Tom into a frenzy. James was pushed aside as Tom ran towards the walls, hammering each one with his bruised fists.
‘Stop it, they’ll come back!’ said Daniel through clenched teeth. He lost his cool. He launched himself across the room and lunged at Tom, punching him twice in the face until he quietened.
James confronted Daniel with a hard push to the chest. ‘What the hell are you doing?’
Daniel slowed to regain his breath after the exertion. ‘Someone had to fucking shut him up, I didn’t see any of you lot doing anything!’
‘Yeah, but that’s not the way to go about things, is it,’ interrupted John as Tom curled up on the floor, crying as he held his swollen left cheek.
‘Are you lot for real?’ said Daniel, his eyes widening in disbelief. ‘You might have accepted your lot in life, but I haven’t. God knows what they’ve got planned for us! I don’t really want to hang about to find out, do you?’
‘He’s right,’ said Hargreaves. ‘We need to find a way off this craft, and now.’
‘Thank you, finally someone with some fucking balls!’ said Daniel as he clapped his hands sarcastically. ‘Lead on, General, I’m with you.’
John looked to Mark with a wry smile, then back at Daniel. ‘What? A minute ago you were the one taking the piss out of the others for wanting to escape.’ He threw his arms outwards. ‘Now suddenly you’re in favour?’
‘Enough! Now listen up,’ said Hargreaves as he climbed to his feet. His 60 odd years had seen plenty of conflict – none like this in terms of the enemy, but the situation was one and the same. He winced at the effort before returning to his hard style approach. ‘When the bastards came in, did anyone notice if they had any weapons on them, or anything that looked out of the ordinary?’
The group looked to each other, muttering amongst themselves.
‘Out of the ordinary?’ laughed James.
‘I didn’t see anything, why?’ asked Mark, trying to keep tempers from rising again. ‘What have you got in mind, General?’
‘Well, it’s a case of do or die. As we learned earlier, if we create enough noise they’ll come running.’
‘Then what?’ interrupted James, ‘we run out of
the door?’
‘Yes.’ Hargreaves dusted down his sharp pleated trousers. ‘Hopefully they’ll have weapons on them. If we can get hold of these, then they will give us some protection at least.’
James’ eyebrows curled into a mock frown. ‘Great plan, General,’ he nodded, rolling his eyes.
Daniel’s long face contorted. He bit his bottom lip, baring his crooked teeth aggressively. ‘Yeah, what have you fucking come up with, eh?’
‘Superb! So when we run past the aliens – who, by the way, are probably not the only ones on this ship – then what? We take control of the craft and fly away, landing safely to a heroes’ welcome? You fucking idiot!’ sneered James. ‘What about him?’ He motioned with his head towards Tom. ‘How are we gonna get him out?’
‘Look, I’m not saying it’s a foolproof plan,’ replied Daniel, ‘all I’m saying is that we can’t stay here.’ He looked to Hargreaves. ‘Am I right, General?’
Hargreaves glanced up and took a deep breath through his wide nose. ‘Right.’
Daniel approached the Professor. ‘Mark, what do you think? Come on, what would you do?’
Mark closed his eyes. The voices in the room were causing his head to ache. He placed his hands over his face and sighed heavily. ‘Look, I don’t know what to do. I – just like you all – wish to get the hell off this craft, this we have established.’
‘That’s what I’m talking about,’ replied Daniel in a cocky tone as he looked at them all.
The Professor looked at Daniel. ‘On the flip side though, I don’t particularly want to meet my maker just yet. Either way there’s a high probability that we are going to die, but I’m in no hurry to speed things up. Besides, James is only saying what you yourself said five minutes ago.’
Daniel looked to the ceiling, discouraged by Mark’s answer. He turned back to the General, who gave a nod of confirmation in his direction.
Hargreaves smiled, ducking to avoid the mist. ‘Professor, I know who you are,’ he said respectfully. ‘We had been following your research very closely, and it was most impressive.’
Mark could sense a darker tone behind the General’s words, a tone that suggested something angry was about to rise to the surface. He didn’t like the way that the military man had changed tack. It felt like a personal attack was coming.
Blurred Vision: Seven billion voices about to be silenced Page 2