Frankentown

by Aleksandar Vujovic

His hand flew out away from his body almost involuntarily and in the general direction of the driver, hitting him in the face and poking him in the eye all at the same time. Steering wheel was ripped aside and the truck headed for the side of the road. The other guard panicked and reached out to grab Al-

  THUD

  A road edge pole went down, jolting the doomed vehicle, taking the guards by surprise and ripping Al out of the guard’s grip.

  Then, with just enough time to jump back into the cargo area, Al hold on to the wooden railing on the side.

  THUD

  Another pole went down and the two drivers screamed their last screams as the car flew through the air, rotating midair to land on its other side.

  Car smoked and any minute it might catch on fire and light up the night. Al has gotten drunk watching enough action flicks to know that was how it happened.

  He quickly composed himself and crawled out of the wreck of the truck. The drivers did not move.

  To Al’s surprise, it didn’t pan out like in the movies - the car did not catch fire and there was only volumes of white steam rising skyward.

  When he approached the front of the vehicle, the two guards still have not moved. It had appeared that by some coincidence, perhaps divine intervention, he was spared while the other two were taken away and on. To death and beyond.

  The truck lied not far from the road, and despite that it was already almost midnight with few clouds in sight, the starry sky was unpolluted by any of the radioactive glow of a nearby population. A gray might’ve used the glow as a good-enough torch and navigation.

  Al moved away from the road to avoid being seen and headed toward the only point of light on the horizon, halfway up the mountains above. Perhaps he could ask for directions there. If you were somewhere in the desert at night without a map, the only place to go is toward the light.

  Walking through the desert is ordinarily quite dangerous, especially at night, when the sandy plains and tiny desert shrubbery is riddled with rattlesnakes and scorpions.

  It wasn’t long before his legs started hurting, though the boots he wore were really comfortable and were made for exactly that kind of terrain. Night in the desert offered one a unique opportunity to marvel over the beauty of the world. Little bunny families hopped around in search of what scraps the desert might’ve offered them to eat.

  And somehow they still made it.

  If bunnies can live through the unforgiving searing rock bed, Al could surely make it to safety. Then he heard the familiar rattle. It sounded close.

  He paused but figured ‘better keep going’.

  The elements were on his side as it was night and it was nowhere near as hot as it got during the hours of the orange afternoon.

  The whole walk to the light took longer than Al could estimate, yet the beauty of the prairie did not make it an unpleasant journey at all. And he hadn’t gotten killed by night-fauna yet. Soon, the sand and gravel turned to finer sand and a ten-foot fence previously cloaked by the dark stood between him and his way on toward the light on the horizon.

  The light suddenly went out and the fence, unforeseeingly jolted Al with over 750 volts, leaving him to rest on the scraping floor of the Nevada plains. Within minutes, when consciousness partially resumed, he could once again breathe with the occasional chest pains. The light on the horizon, now wisps in his tired watering eyes, reappeared followed by two further points up above. Unable to get up and barely conscious, he was only awake enough to hear helicopters approaching before he blacked out entirely.

  He came to with a sudden inhale of water through his nose which came from being splashed on by a blurry contour.

  “What makes you think this will work?” said an unfamiliar voice belonging to Hector.

  “I’ve seen it in a movie once. He should come to right away.” Said another, more familiar voice, belonging to Frank.

  Al was placed on a hard flat surface that passed for a bed in the militant confines, with Frank and Hector left in charge of reviving said individual. They were, now, forced independent contractors. Despite the fact they had little to no choice whether to join or not, their pay wasn’t all that bad (double UC salary) and the alternative: being turned into fish food, did not sound all that appealing or inviting.

  Al was now facing the same deal. As soon as he could sit and curse at Hector (who was given the glass to hold) for throwing water in his face, Frank handed him a towel to dry off.

  Chapter Twenty

  Levitation

  The hangar was now silent. All the crafts were docked by their stations and there were only two guys standing guard at the exits. Al, Frank and Hector were now being escorted by a couple of guards wearing beige jumpsuits and carrying semi-automatics over their shoulders.

  Al was mostly silent since arriving and felt threatened and sober, to his displeasure, as opposed to Hector who wasn’t as scared as he was plastered. He carried a flask of scotch with him wherever he went. This was of course never known to any staff at the university.

  He was a very functional drunk.

  If he ever did have to defend himself, which he wouldn’t anyway, his rationale was that it made him feel ‘in control’.

  Obviously, the effect was just the opposite.

  To Frank, there has been a surplus of control for quite some time. Two guards stood at the south end of the giant cavernous hall, guarding the doors to a very dark corridor. Not that he’d be afraid of the dark, but he didn’t really have any idea where they were.

  Door in the far corner of the hangar opened silently, very slowly at first, then it swung ajar, all by itself.

  A short, melty looking old gray alien entered the hangar and approached them with its every move pre-calculated, but it didn’t look like the other grays. Not as tall, somewhat broad shouldered and skin sagging, it seemed like a foul and cold creature. Its face seemed wicked, twisted and very carved into its cranium. Its condensed lips were chapped a hundred times over, as was the vast majority of the remainder of the gray’s face. It was old.

  The being was glowing the color of singed red wine against the dark corner of the open hangar, overlooking the caverns. The air around it somehow appeared brighter.

  It radiated a moderate amount of dimmed light. A 40w lightbulb.

  Frank couldn’t look away. He couldn’t get over that he is looking at a real alien, this close. Somehow it didn’t even seem possible. The air around Him turned to vivid rainbow aura which appeared to cycle as He moved.

  The being finally reached them.

  It immediately entered Frank’s mind.

  Don’t worry.

  Before Frank realized this wasn’t his own voice but a telepathic transfer from the gray, he watched Al and Hector, stiff as boards, levitating toward the south exit, headfirst, at extreme speed.

  Al’s limp body halted 30 feet away, while Hector’s flew toward the wall at full-speed. To Frank’s relief, Hector slowed down right before he hit the wall, tipped on its side and floated down to the ground, sleeping and unconscious.

  The old gray squinted at Frank, apparently to acknowledge His sense of humor.

  When Frank turned around, three more grays appeared out of thin air.

  Not them. You. We sought you.

  The four beings arose and stood taller than previously, towering high above him.

  His head spun around, constantly bringing out the illusion of falling.

  Everything gained color. Enormous bright light appeared and blinded him.

  His vision has momentarily returned and he could see things sharper than ever before.

  At once, he felt considerably taller as well.

  Then he started hearing what the alien was thinking. To itself.

  “There is no way around. I have to say.”

  Frank thought about this for a second.

  He suddenly heard himself speak exactly what he was thinking.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  “You are one of us.

  No
w you are in your natural body shell.”

  It wasn’t too difficult for Frank to not believe what was happening. It was, in fact, already pretty crazy when he saw the first extraterrestrial. To think now that he was actually given an alien body to be in and operate, as amazing as it was, somehow didn’t feel surprising. Then for a brief moment he wished he could take a look at himself, even though he’d soon regret it. Immediately, he had an out-of-body experience much like in a dream, only this was not the pleasant, flying type of dream.

  So I’m dreaming. Thank God!

  His body was tall and his aura pastel pink. Each muscle was extremely well defined on his body, and though the structure looked a little slimy, the figure barely resembled a bipedal skeleton, not unlike that of a human.

  Frank started rising higher, but not by his own will. The glowing sexless creature extruded its head up from its neck, displacing his location from afar.

  Not unlike telekinesis.

  With a graceful movement of its hands upwards, time around them sped up. Hector and Al were cleaned up by a crew and carried out unconscious. Then many pilots walked through to conduct routine testing of new prototypes. So much has happened that Frank hadn’t noticed that he was now pressed hard against the rough ceiling of the testing hall; each dried up paint on the popcorn ceiling pressed into his back like at a $2 acupuncture session.

  His senses began to fail him when he began going in an out of varying states of consciousness, then his body dropped to the ground like a sock full of quarters.

  There was very little that felt the same after that. Lying on the floor in an attempt to compose himself and get up, he realized what was happening with utter disbelief. The realization that not a hair on his body is out of place came on like a slow-cured buzz of a dark beer.

  Hector and Al cowered, half awake, in the corner of the south end of the hall.

  Frank could almost feel the gray radiating heat in its aura as the being rose and its contour took on a vibrant orange glow. Then he, himself rose and started glowing a bright yellow-green.

  He could not control himself; without any effort at all, he started floating toward the strangest looking of the beings, speeding down the hallway.

  It was as if he was latched on.

  Logically, Frank though, This means that he is taking me with him somewhere.

  Within minutes, they reached the opening that he’d try to cover with foam earlier, but never stopped. They flew right through without any effort and flew off into the night sky heading west. That night, dozens of freeway travelers would see two bright orbs heading west at high speed. Not many would report it.

  The general consensus was that even if they existed, why would they come to us?

  What could we offer such an advanced life form? Why would they, intergalactic transcendent beings, want to have anything to do with us?

  Frank soon started recognizing California beneath him, mainly because of the incoming shoreline. The glowing being ahead of him went lower along with him attached, heading down.

  Just as they were about 300 feet from the ground, Frank realized they are above Monterey.

  This was were he saw a similar sight the first time, when he, Steve and Allen went squid tagging, courtesy of the Bay Research.

  That was about all that he had time for to go through his head before the alien, along with him, splashed into the ocean and headed further down. The orb with Frank inside shot into the water, sending mountainous waves back to the shore.

  The deeper they went, the gnarlier and older the flora grew.

  All among them, mysterious silky silhouettes flew all about them, turning up tufts of dust.

  A great, dark and big shape flew at his leg to grasp it; a giant octopus, studded with textured rocks which were actually parts of its skin, stretching large, tentacles flowing all around.

  A dark squelch of ink made it difficult to see anything but only about as far as the light tore its way through the cloud. Nowhere. Nothing.

  He hung suspended in space, deep underwater.

  A long slithery arm crept up its way to take hold of his left arm. Frank struggled as much as he could, and would he had not been protected in a radius of the orb he was in, he would have been long done for. The octopus grasped yet tighter.

  From inside the bubble, Frank could see that he was just out of harm’s way.

  The mystic power enveloped him from all sides, making him practically impervious to being crushed like yesterday’s baguette.

  The alien must have then started going again; Frank was being pulled deeper and deeper into the depths. He felt pressure in his head and body, though not the pressure of the entire ocean crushing down on him. He was being protected. That must have been a good thing.

  But what happens when the protective bubble disappears? Surely under the pressure his head would implode and he would have a very quick, and very painful death. Maybe, after a while it would just ‘pop’ and the contents would float to the shore for seagulls to devour.

  Not a good combination, he thought.

  By now, their surroundings were far too dark and his vision had begun to fail him.

  The octopus must have let go a while back.

  It was pitch black for a long time, while Frank felt the pressure on his head and body relieving. Slowly but surely. And it wasn’t clear if this was due to some sort of adaptation, if he was asleep or

  worse, he was - dying ... or dead already.

  Back on the base, Hector finally came to.

  His head was pounding and he felt like life had just, yet again, handed him a wet towel across the face. Al regained what was left of his perpetual lack-of consciousness and got up like a baby deer would for a first time. They stood together, leaning against the wall, panting.

  Neither of them spoke, nor did they have to; they both just went through a nearly fatal experience with an alien, so they had at the very least that in common.

  As Hector crawled around on all fours, looking for his glasses, without which he was nearly as blind as a bat, Al peered over the side that opened into the caverns.

  The dark depths of the man-made caves were indeed an amazing feat of construction. Almost beehive in nature.

  At closer inspection, Al noticed strange flora attached, glowing mushrooms and weird coral-like plants clutched onto the spongy material.

  It did not make him feel insignificant.

  Al just wasn’t that kind of guy.

  The most important person in his life has always been only himself. If there was such thing as significance, he would certainly be the king of it. Hector finally found his glasses.

  At this exact moment, Frank was in depths of the Pacific Ocean,wrapped in a protective bubble, under the protection of the Gray Extraterrestrial.

  A small sliver of light at the end of the tunnel began growing and Frank believed his vision to be almost restored. In fact, there had been a real light at the end of the tunnel.

  Not a spiritual one, nor an optical illusion; through a crevice of the black waters, no natural light penetrated. Too deep to see jack-.

  As the light turned from small to all around them, it took his eyes several minutes to adjust.

  Like turning on a kitchen light at night, he could mostly squint.

  Soon the white surroundings cooled to a dim glowy interior. A wall with dim glowing fauna started appearing in front of Frank, but he felt like he was going up. It was a monstrous cave.

  An all-too-familiar feeling shocked him.

  He had nothing to connect it to. No memory from his life.

  Maybe a fragment of a memory from an old broken mind. Flashes.

  They were slowing down again, and readying to land on an small brick island on a flat surface of dense fog, at least two miles in diameter. They were inside a behemoth tunnel, perfectly balanced both in structure and craft; deliberately and masterfully created.

  In place and no longer inside the protective bubble, Frank felt like he could get up and gather himself. Eno
rmous stone pillars on the walls far off were all defined with perfect precision in every way. He could almost see the far wall of the tunnel, but the walls were so enormous and far away that they filled the horizon.

  All among him, floating lights transformed into lanky figures. Each being landed gracefully on little green brick islands on the misty ocean; like wild game at early hours.

  Each being had a different aura, but they were all colder colors. Several beings landed on a patch of green not far away from him. Their skin seemed raw and exposed, unlike he’s seen before.

  One of the beings moved closer to observe.

  It was a surprise to see its eye, no longer black, vacant and anonymous, but a round deep blue iris that could look right through you to the other side and then some.

  The gray looked at him with a look of undeniable sympathy but with the means of extermination.

  The same way Frank felt toward mice in his home, uneasy, thousands of feet under.

  Panic swept his mind, fleeting, desperately trying to grasp a single thought to hold on to.

  A memory of Laura was the first and last thought to go through his head before reality drifted into a dream.

  Chapter Twentyone

  Homecoming

  The autumn rain drummed Frank slowly awake.

  It was a sunday and Frank did not have to work.

  He would just take it easy. He was wearing his bathrobe over his pajamas, which had kept him more than warm all through the night, but the house was never cold like some houses get sometimes. Not even now. It was miracle he could have slept wearing so much and not sweat like a pig. Over the side of the bed, there was an unfamiliar ceramic pot with a big green plant that Frank couldn’t recall the name of. In with the plant was a small card glued onto a wire, stuck in the pot.

  It said

  “Hope you’re feeling better.”

  Signed Laura xoxo

  It was then that Frank came to a realization that he cannot recall exactly what happened yesterday. He didn’t know what time it was, nor did he care. What had happened?