The Last Mile Trilogy

by Jacqueline Druga

  “The third wave, will it come then?”

  “If we defeat the second wave. The third wave may not come at all. Some of them will be here soon.”

  “But not to fight?”

  “To organize.”

  “So we’re not fighting the actual race that wants to take over. We’re fighting their henchmen. But they’ll be here, building them.”

  “Yes.”

  “What … what do they look like?”

  “Depends on where they settle.”

  “They adapt?” Robi asked.

  “If warm, they shed, if cool they cover.”

  “Like fur?”

  “Yes, they…” Sam snapped his finger. “You know of their commonly known form.”

  “I do?”

  “Yes, a tale that has grown throughout the years. A myth as you may think.”

  “Really? Which myth?”

  “Bigfoot.”

  Robi’s mouth opened slightly, she and paused before saying anything. “Bigfoot.”

  “Sasquatch,” Sam said “as many call him. He has been here vacationing.”

  “Bigfoot.”

  “Yes.”

  “We have to battle an army of Bigfoots?”

  “Yes.”

  Robi chuckled. “Well, they don’t seem that tough.”

  “They are not,” Sam said. “But the second wave is.”

  <><><><>

  “Quit biting your nails,” Tate ordered Jeb as they stood in the street.

  It had been hours since they returned from getting Mas his supplies, and Mas had taken four of the XM8’s off to adjust them.

  They had followed Mas’ request to meet him at the edge of town just where the old Burger King billboard met the turn off road from the highway.

  Gil’s diner was there, along with a gas station; it was short distance from town.

  “I can’t help it,” Jeb said in reference to biting his nails.

  “Why are you nervous?”

  “Think about it. Every time he touches something I worry.”

  “He hasn’t touched much,” Tate commented.

  “True.”

  “And …he made a radio out of a baby jar lid.”

  “A receiver out of a cereal box.”

  With a smirk, Tate nodded. “Imagine the weaponry.”

  “Makes you wonder what we’re up against.”

  Robi’s voice joined in. “I don’t know what the second wave is, but I can tell you the third wave is Bigfoot.”

  Both Tate and Jeb turned to her.

  “Bigfoot?” Jeb asked.

  “Bigfoot.” Tate repeated.

  “Bigfoot.”

  Manny joined. “What about Bigfoot.”

  “Oh,” Robi explained, “Sam, said the actual Aliens that want us are Bigfoot.”

  “Fuck,” Manny whispered. “You know I knew it. I knew Bigfoot was alien. I said it years ago.”

  Tate widened his eyes. “I never thought it existed.”

  “Wait.” Jeb held up his hand. “So if we fight an army of third wave, we’re actually fighting … Bigfeet?”

  Silence.

  Every chuckled.

  Robi pointed. “That was good.” She looked at her watch. “Mas said to be here for the demonstration. Where is he?”

  Jeb shook his head. “Don’t know. I also don’t know why he has us so far away from everyone else.”

  “Maybe he didn’t want to frighten the kids.” Tate guessed.

  Jeb scoffed. “Kids. Martha sleeps. Nick isn’t really a kid, and the demon child would never frighten.”

  Manny added, “Firing power or it makes back fire, he wants to make sure no one else is around to get hurt.”

  “About to find out.” Tate pointed to Mas who walked up the street, toting two weapons and with Bishop at his side.

  “Fuck!” Jeb barked. “Fuckin’ Bishop got first view.”

  “They don’t look different,” Tate said. “Really. Look.”

  Robi said, “They don’t look like he changed anything at …” she paused. “Did you guys feel that?”

  “What?” Jeb asked.

  “Are we in earthquake territory?” Robi asked.

  Manny shook his head. “Not that I know of. I didn’t feel anything either.”

  Jeb shrugged. “Me either.”

  “Guess it was my imagination,” Robi said.

  Mas approached. “Weapons have I. Demonstrate we must. Power to ensure.”

  “Mas?” Robi questioned. “Why does Sam talk normally, and you speak like you do? I would think you would both talk the same.”

  “Ah.” Mas nodded. “Sam of poor. Disability he has. Similar it is, to dyslexia of your people.”

  Robi choked out a cough. “Poor Sam.”

  Mas nodded.

  “All right. All right,” Jeb griped. “I’ve been waiting. Let’s test these bad boys out.”

  “Bad boys they are not,” Mas commented. “Weapons.”

  Sarcastically, Jeb growled out, “No. Really? Gee. Thanks. Let’s test them.”

  Robi snipped, “Stop it. Don’t pick on Mas.”

  Very proudly, Mas handed Jeb the weapon. “Fires it does, like the old, but power of fire like no other.”

  “Really.” Jeb mounted a grip on the weapon. “What should I shoot?”

  “There it was again,” Robi said. “Did you feel it? I’m not crazy.”

  “Hold.” Mas stated to Jeb. “Explain I must.” He passed out the remaining rifles to Tate, Manny, and Bishop. “Special one, I make for Robi.” Mas smiled at her.

  “Cool.” Robi said. “Go on, explain.”

  “Bullets, no,” Mas said. “Pack of power, the clip is. Charged. Energy.”

  “How many shots?” Tate asked. “Or rounds.”

  “Beams,” Mas replied.

  “Beams?” Jeb asked.

  Mas took the weapon from Bishop. “When shot of single …. Beam of ten. Very powerful. When shot of many, beams of fifty.” He removed the clip. “When danger there is …too much. Overwhelmed. Detonate.” He showed the button on the bottom. “Seconds of ten, explosion of mass power. Run. Run fast.” He reinserted the clip. “Questions?” he handed the rifle back to Bishop.

  Tate had one. “How many of these power packs did you make?”

  “Twenty,” Mas answered. “More I will make. Test you will,” he instructed Jeb.

  “Ok.” Jeb raised the weapon. “What should I shoot?”

  “Hit can you, that telephone pole?” Mas asked. “Far it is.”

  “Please,” Jeb scoffed. “Consider it hit.” He aimed, finger ready, and depressed.

  A single, high pitch tone emerged, with a blue dot of energy that seared across the air and into the telephone pole. There was a delay, a second maybe, and then the pole exploded into a million splinters.

  “That works,” Jeb said, and then chuckled. “Fuckin’ nice.”

  “Oh my god,” Tate exclaimed, almost giggly. “Oh my god.”

  “Is there a kick?” Manny asked.

  “No,” Jeb answered “Feels like firing air.”

  “There it is again,” Robi said. “I know you people felt that. Mas?” She saw the look on his face. “Mas?”

  “Ready should the weapons be,” Mas stated.

  “They are,” Jeb said. “And no, I didn’t feel anything, Robi.”

  Bishop asked, “With this kind of fire power, it makes me wonder what exactly we’ll be shooting.”

  Mas stepped back. “Close to that.”

  “Close to what?” Bishop asked.

  “That.” Mas pointed.

  They all turned.

  Irritated, Bishop, not seeing anything asked again. “What?”

  Crack!

  With the loudest, ear piercing noise, an immediate shake of the ground, the earth split twenty feet from them.

  “Man your weapons!” Jeb ordered out. “Get ready for anything!”

  And anything was what they got. Out from the splice in the earth shot a snake like te
ntacle, it hissed and whipped high speed across the concrete, snatching on to Robi.

  Robi went down when the creature snapped her forward and began to drag her toward the pit.

  Jeb aimed to shoot as Tate flew forward toward Robi.

  Mas stopped Jeb. “Current. Robi killed.”

  “Fuck.” Quickly he pulled his revolver, aimed, and fired. It took three shots before the tentacle released Robi.

  Tate was there. He grabbed hold of her, lifting Robi away just as a new tentacle slapped down.

  It missed them both.

  Suddenly more, two, three, eight tentacles whipped from the split in the ground.

  “Now!” Jeb ordered out and fired.

  The creature squealed with each hit it took, each hit that exploded its wiry extensions until it stopped fighting and slipped back into the hole.

  Manny yelled out, “Is it dead?”

  Jeb replied, “I don’t know.” He looked at Mas. “Is it?”

  Mas shrugged.

  “What is that?” Jeb asked. “A shrug? You’re supposed to be the expert. Tate.” He lowered his weapon. “Cover me conventionally.”

  “Got it.” Tate pulled his revolver.

  Jeb paused as he walked by Robi. “You OK?” he asked.

  “I think.” Robi nodded. “What are you doing?” She reached out as Jeb walked to the hole. “Jeb.”

  Jeb waved his hand out at her as he walked to the edge of the opening. He pulled forth his weapon, aiming into the hole. “I don’t see anything moving. Man …” he winced. “Fuckin’ stinks.” He breathed outward onto the back of his hand, and then looked into the hole again. “Nope, it must have …” Jeb skirted back when a tentacle slapped down by his leg. For some reason, he slammed his boot down hard on the tentacle. The creature didn’t make a noise, but the tentacle crushed with ease. Jeb nodded. “Dead.”

  Robi turned to Mas. “What now?”

  “Leave we must.” Mas said.

  “Are there more?” Robi asked.

  “Doubt I do,” Mas said. “Danger in fumes omitted. The hour grows them stronger.”

  Bishop heard and questioned, “Fumes. As in deadly?”

  Mas nodded. “Inhale too long. Yes. Too much. Yes. Out it fans, five miles. Thick for hours. Hours it takes to do so. Must we leave, and must we leave now.”

  “Wait.” Tate held up his hand. “Let me get this straight. The fumes are strong. They grow by the hour and fan out. You could get sick and die, right? Well what about him?” Tate pointed to Jeb who was peering in the hole. “Will he get sick?”

  Mas nodded. “Could.”

  “Jeb!” Tate yelled. “Get away from the hole, man.”

  “I hear you guys!” Jeb responded. “I’m fine. I won’t get sick.”

  <><><><>

  It was the fourth time. Jeb blurted an ‘excuse me’ and rushed to the small bathroom on the bus. The fourth time in ten minutes, and it concerned Robi.

  She knocked on the closed bathroom door.

  “In a minute,” Jeb said, his voice held a hollow effect, and that told Robi one thing. He was speaking into the bowl.

  “Jeb,” Robi opened the door, but could barely do so. Jeb’s legs were blocking it as he hovered over the commode. “You OK?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No, you’re not. This is the fourth time you’ve run in here.”

  “I didn’t know you were …” he broke off with an unproductive heave.

  “Dry?” Robi asked.

  “Very much so…” Jeb heaved again. “Oh my God.” He rolled to a sitting position against the tiny wall. “I don’t think I was ever this sick.”

  “Any stomach pains?” Robi asked.

  “No, just nausea.”

  Robi held out her hand. “The moving bus can’t be helping.”

  “Not at all.”

  “Let’s get you to bed.”

  “No, I’ll be …” he turned his body and heaved over the toilet. “Fine.”

  “Jeb, I …” Robi felt the tug to her pants. She looked down. Martha was standing there. “Yes sweetie?”

  “Is Dudday sick?”

  “Yeah, he’s …” Robi smiled a sad smile. “He’s very sick.”

  Martha flashed a closed mouth smile to Robi, and then slipped through the slight opening of the bathroom.

  Robi closed the door and walked back to the table where Bishop, Mas and Sam gathered.

  “How is he?” Bishop asked.

  “Martha’s with him now.” Robi answered. “Mas, why did that make him so sick? Was that the second wave?”

  Mas shook his head. “No.”

  Sam added, “It is what was left of the first wave.”

  Robi looked at him curiously, “The first wave was a virus.”

  “Yes, indeed,” Sam said. “And the virus molecules that did not find a host, found each other. They manifested into creatures.”

  Bishop asked, “How many?”

  Sam shook his head. “This I do not know, but I will say, since so many people have died, there may not be that many. Still, their odor upon death will kill.”

  “We have to find them,” Bishop said, “so we know where to avoid.”

  “Leave them be,” Sam said. “They are more deadly to the Loomis. Or the third wave.”

  Robi blinked. “Loomis? That isn’t the name Mas used before.”

  “The Loomis is the earth name we have given the race. Easier to say,” Sam smiled.

  “OK, I’m game,” Bishop said. “How are they more deadly to the Loomis than to us?”

  “They will kill earth’s inhabitants, yes.” Sam said, “They will kill you if they get you. The Loomis … they will hunt.”

  Robi grinned. “So if by chance the third wave does arrive, the manifestations will congregate to where the Loomis reside.”

  “Possibly,” Sam said. “If the second wave doesn’t destroy them.”

  “Shit,” Bishop wisped. “Here I thought we had another back up. And our peace has ceased.”

  “What do you mean?” Robi asked.

  “It won’t be long before Jeb joins us.” Bishop pointed to Martha who walked into the bus area. She yawned loudly, crawled up onto a bus seat, curled into a fetal position, and fell fast asleep.

  Within seconds.

  “Fuckin’ awesome.” Jeb emerged. “I feel great. Bishop get out of my seat.”

  Bishop raised his eyebrows to Robi. “See what I mean?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Grants, NM

  About an hour into the journey, Greek started receiving weird signals via the tiger cereal box. Not voices, or noise, or patterns. But it seemed to be newscasts or music at times. Nothing clear or consistent. Bleeps and blips would come in and out.

  Everyone thought he was nuts because as soon as he called someone’s attention to it, it stopped.

  He asked Robi to pull over. They turned into dead air, until Jeb himself swore he heard a snippet of Hank Williams.

  No one else heard it.

  It was determined that perhaps they should stop and allow Mas and Sam to see what they could get, but to do so after they passed Albuquerque.

  No sooner did they get just beyond the city limits of Albuquerque, than the signals were no longer deemed Greek’s and Jeb’s imaginations. Still short, and able to be missed, the music would bleed in and out in one to two second samples.

  Something was coming through.

  They stopped by the Rio Grande, and while Mas and Sam worked on that signal, trying to determine what and where it was coming from, Parker thought it would be a great idea to peel potatoes.

  It would pass time. They’d seal them in bags, stocking up on filler for meals and cutting them would give them something to do over talk on the bus.

  All well and fine, Jeb had suggested, but they risked losing fingers with the way Robi drove.

  Under the hot July sun, they peeled.

  Well not everyone. Some chose to just kick back and wait it out.

  “You know,” Park
er said, “an idle mind is the devil’s playground.”

  Bishop quickly looked at Jeb. “Don’t’ say it.”

  “Say what?” Jeb asked.

  “I know what you were going to say,” Bishop said.

  “Oh, so now you’re a mind reader. I wasn’t going to say anything.”

  “Right. I saw the look on your face.” Bishop shook his head. “He said about the idle mind being the devil’s playground and I saw it, you were gonna make a comment about Eva.”

  “That would be rude,” Jeb stated. “Eva is a child.” He dropped his voice to a mumble, “A child with a demon streak, but still child none the less.”

  Robi quickly checked for a reaction from Parker. He kept peeling. “You let them talk about your daughter like that?”

  “She may be sweet to you,” Parker said, “but I don’t think she’s all that sweet to Jeb. Will be that way until she gets used to him or he diverts his attention to someone else.

  “Guys!” Greek raced to the crew. “Pack up the potatoes. We really got someone.”

  Robi set down her knife. “You sure? You talked to them?”

  “No,” Greek said. “But there is definitely a signal. Mas and Sam can’t figure out what exactly is causing it. But they locked in. It’s an unprotected universal signal.”

  Bishop added, “Which means that if we’re getting it the enemy is getting it.”

  Greek nodded. “Chances are they already got it. That’s what Mas and Sam think.”

  Jeb questioned, “They think it’s a set up for us?”

  Greek shook his head. “I asked that, they said no. If they were setting us up, they’d use other means, like actual radio calls. Sam said they’d never use such an assortment of sound bites to make contact.”

  Park asked, “Assortment of sound bites?”

  Greek replied, “News. Music.”

  Bishop coughed. “Doesn’t sound like someone reaching us, sounds more like we’re tuning into someone’s television.”

  “Wait.” Robi halted. “If they think the aliens already locked in, then how is the signal still running? All other signals stopped.”

  Parker mumbled out, “No threat.” He saw he had their attention. “The places wiped out before, the places that were sending signals, they had large groups. They were a threat. This obviously is a small group, or maybe even two or three people.”

  Jeb agreed. “Like you and your daughter. You guys said you were using the cell phone for a while. They probably found you a long time ago and deemed you guys not a threat. Like any army, they are gonna worry about the threats first. OK, how were they able to lock in?”