SKY WOMAN OF GROOM LAKE

by Charlie Peart

  It seemed that several years before, when the good sergeant arrived in his golf cart at sunset to shoo the boats away, he had struck up a conversation with the gregarious Capt’n Jake regarding the fish he was cleaning in preparation for that night’s dinner. The skipper, having had quite a good haul earlier in the afternoon, was presently cleaning several dolphin fish with his fishing buddy, Ray, a Bahamian well known and liked by Sergeant Gibbs. After some good-natured banter between the three, plus a long-winded “fish tale” by Jake regarding the afternoon’s catch, and as the three shared a six-pack of beer on the boat, Jake offered the sergeant the fish he had just filleted. Sergeant Gibbs gladly accepted the fish as a “gift” and, in return, special permission was granted for the skipper’s boat to remain at the dock overnight.

  Since that time, Sergeant Gibbs always welcomed “Hooked on a Feeling”, plus a few fish and a six-pack of beer, and allowed the boat to remain overnight. Capt’n Jake suggested that if Doug was willing to slip him a “nice bottle of something”, things could be arranged so that Doug too could stay tied up over night as a member of Jake’s party.

  That evening, Doug had brought a bottle of Gray Goose with him to Capt’n Jake’s boat party, and the deal was sealed. Now Amie could hear the loud voices of the slightly drunken crew wafting from the larger boat, and their reggae-style music blasting into the night air.

  “That noise will be a good distraction from what I must do,” Amie thought, as she climbed out of Doug’s boat and walked around inspecting the dock structures. When she had reached the furthest end of the dock, away from the other boats, she sat down, cross-legged in a yoga style pose on the rough, weathered boards. She gathered her thoughts and began a harmonic energy vibration, directing it towards the night sky. As her energy increased, enhanced by the special vest, the harmonic wave began to actually roil the light blue water directly beneath her. Then Amie removed the medallion hanging from her neck and held it to the crown of her head. She breathed deeply and repetitively for several minutes. Suddenly a bright blue light, as narrow as a laser beam, burst forth from the jewel in the center of her medallion. It lasted no more than a few seconds, streaking upward toward the stars above.

  “What the hell was that?” one of the inebriated crewmembers of the 45-foot boat, “Hooked on a Feeling”, shouted. He gestured wildly towards the far end of the dock.

  “I didn’t see anything,” his buddy said in a slurred voice. “What are you talking about anyway?”

  “Man, it was this wild lookin’ blue light, really bright. Like a streak coming from the water. It freaked me out, dude.”

  “Have another one, Ronnie. You must be losing it. You’re seein’ things, man.”

  Tom overheard the conversation and turned to Laura. “We need to get back to the boat. Something’s going on. I think I see Amie at the far end of the dock.”

  Laura strained her eyes to look in the direction her husband was pointing. She had had more than a few of Capt’n Jake’s special margaritas and was beyond noticing very much.

  “Over there, where that guy just saw a blue light,” Tom insisted. “Amie’s doing something, I think. I’m afraid she’ll attract too much attention.”

  Tom and Laura signaled Doug and Terri that they were heading back to their boat. Doug just waved. He and Terri weren’t ready to leave. Doug was having too much fun right then, and he had picked up a few tips from the captain that would help them figure out what to do the next day.

  Tom and Laura thanked their hosts and climbed down a ladder to the dock. “Should we go over and talk to Amie?” Laura asked Tom.

  “I don’t know. She has to do something, otherwise how is she going to get home. I don’t know what she just did though, but apparently it caused some kind of blue light. Ronnie noticed it, but he’s too drunk to care. I think we need to let her alone right now. But let’s keep a look out, here on the dock, so no one disturbs Amie while she is doing her contact thing.”

  Amie had finished her energy meditation, but it totally drained her. She needed to recover. She sat still for a while, listening to the lapping of the waves against the pier, and then got up and walked back to Doug’s boat.

  Amie was surprised to see Tom and Laura back at the boat. Laura asked Amie verbally if she had done something unusual a while ago to cause a noticeable blue light to beam up toward the heavens.

  Amie replied to Laura in mind-speak that she had sent a signal to the stars. “They are out there, Laura. I can sense it. This Bermuda Triangle area has real power, a strong energy vortex. My people will come and find me, don’t worry.”

  Amie didn’t bother to tell the young couple that this was just the beginning. She hoped they would not be terribly frightened when she tried even harder, in the following days, to contact the mother ship.

  The first night posed a problem with arrangements for sleeping, as there was very little room to spread out on the small boat. Tom and Laura insisted that Doug and Terri sleep in the cabin. They pulled out Doug’s blow-up mattress, inflated it, and had just finished spreading a sheet to make a bed for themselves on deck, when Doug and Terri arrived back at their boat. Although they were a little tipsy from the rum party on the neighboring boat, Terri took charge immediately, spreading out a thick yoga mat on the deck for Amie to sleep on and covering it with a sheet. Terri concluded by smiling at Amie and saying in an overly loud and friendly voice, as if she was speaking to a child, “There you go, sweetie. All nice and comfy for you.”

  Amie merely nodded in acknowledgement; however, as Doug and Terri began crawling into their cabin for the night, Amie made an announcement to the group. “I probably will not rest very long. I plan to try and contact my people tonight. I will meditate, sitting on the front of this ship, hoping I can send a strong signal that will reach them.”

  This speech was the most the boat crew had heard from Amie throughout the voyage, and it took some time for her to convey it to them in her stilted, accented voice. Previously, Amie had preferred to use Laura as her interpreter. But she wanted them all to understand the importance of this message for, if she was successful, she might have departed from them by the time they awoke in the morning.

  “Thank you all for your help,” Amie concluded. Laura got up from the air mattress and gave her a little hug.

  As Doug and Terri lay in their cabin, they heard Amie moving around overhead, then back on the deck, and then returning to the bow once more. Terri had a hard time getting to sleep, as the cabin cushions were hard and the air inside was stifling. They were forced to close their porthole hatch, if Amie was going to be sitting up there above them all night long.

  When Amie had returned to the deck once again, Terri shook her loudly snoring husband awake and whispered, “I hope they do pick her up tonight. Everything about her creeps me out. That gray, reptile looking skin, those long, spidery fingers, the way she slops the food around in her little mouth. Ick! She is just too weird for me!”

  Doug did not respond and promptly fell back to sleep, too inebriated to care.

  Chapter 26

  Everyone awoke early the next morning, except Amie, who was fast asleep on her yoga mat, her nighttime exertions having worn her out. Terri grumbled about their uncomfortable night and lack of sleep in the hot cabin. Tom and Laura weren’t overly enthusiastic either, after a night spent spraying each other at regular intervals with bug repellent to ward off no-seeums and mosquitoes. Amie seemed to be the only one who slept soundly, once she settled down.

  Doug ignored everyone’s grousing; saying nothing, and instead starting the motors and asking Terri to cast off. As far as he was concerned, the sooner they got to Rosie’s Place in Grand Cays, the better. The captain, from the party the previous evening, had advised Doug to be sure to order the Egg McWalkers. Doug was counting on a big breakfast, washed down perhaps with a Bloody Mary, to banish the aches he felt all over his body after the cramped, restless night he had spent on the hard cabin cushions.

  It was a short hop to Gra
nd Cays, and the fabulous weather and scenery put both couples in better spirits. The entrance to the harbor on the southeastern end was rather tricky, as Doug was about to discover. He approached it on a north-northwest heading and avoided the rocks off his starboard. A local fisherman was working on his boat, near the entrance to the channel, and offered some advice to Doug on navigating his way in.

  Upon entering the harbor, the boat’s crew spotted the many multi-colored buildings ahead and also Rosie’s restaurant. Amie had roused herself from sleep by then, and Laura suggested that they both sit inside the cabin while Doug maneuvered his boat into port. The locals helped Doug at the dock, and they tied up at a boat slip without any problems.

  Grand Cays was not a bustling tourist trap but instead a quiet place, home to only about 200 people, and somewhat of a throwback in time. Doug had learned from his fellow party revelers that some of the population consisted of the customs men at Walker’s Cay, plus the few folks living off of boaters and running rustic hotels and down-home-cooking style restaurants.

  A debate ensued as to what to do about Amie, and ended with Amie making the decision to risk accompanying them into Rosie’s restaurant for breakfast. With her long wig and Laura’s sunglasses, plus her jeans and light jacket, there was not too much of her on display for anyone to wonder about. Admittedly, she looked a little different, but they all hoped that, in this out of the way place, it might not make a difference. “No problem, it’s the Islands, mon,” they joked.

  They entered the restaurant and sat down at a table with an oilcloth covering. “This place definitely has an Islands feel,” Terri commented, looking around at the rustic décor.

  A few of the locals did stare at Amie, but quickly averted their eyes, figuring her for either a deformed child or a small, sickly looking elderly woman. Tom didn’t think Amie looked that strange, in comparison to a few of the other diners. Most were males, here on fishing or diving excursions. By the looks of their clothing and scruffy faces, they weren’t that concerned with appearance.

  Doug ordered the Egg McWalkers, as recommended by the party-boat captain, and the others followed suit. Amie asked for fruit and toast.

  “After breakfast, we need to go to the grocery store and get enough provisions for lunch at the beach today,” Doug said, while they waited for their food. “We can refuel here too, but man, did you check out the fuel prices? Almost twice as much as I paid in Stuart.”

  “It’s okay, Doug,” Tom said, “Nick is covering it for you. He wanted to be here, so it’s his way of helping out the best he can.”

  “I wonder how he is?,” Amie said.

  “He’s probably just getting up,” Tom said.

  “Yeah, and had a good night’s sleep, I bet,” Laura replied, with a grin.

  Nick was, in fact, “entertaining” Team One that morning at his home. They arrived at 8am, asking if they might thoroughly search his premises.

  Team Two had stayed on watch near the house in White City until 1am. Seeing no activity in the area, they departed for a nearby motel. The second team was on watch again at 7am, and still there was no activity in the house. ‘Tracer’ decided it was time to put some more pressure on Nick Rossi.

  So far, there was nothing from headquarters regarding the Bahamian customs information. But the boss reminded ‘Tracer’, “It’s the Bahama’s, so you can’t expect an immediate response. It could take some time.”

  “Have you heard from your friend Peyton yet or your son?” ‘Tracer’ asked Nick.

  “No, and I don’t expect to either. As far as I know they are coming back in a few days or less. My son and I don’t check in with each other everyday. He’s a grown man.”

  “Command will be running DNA on the stuff we found yesterday. How will you explain it if we find the alien’s DNA all over that house?”

  “I told you, I can’t explain that. Listen, if she was there, she got there on her own. I didn’t have anything to do with it. Do you honestly think I would risk my career to help an alien escape from Area 51? That sir, is absurd.”

  “How do we know you’re telling the truth? Why don’t you take a polygraph? What have you got to lose?”

  “Those things aren’t reliable. Everyone knows about people who have lied on those polygraphs and passed anyway. You remember Rick Ames, don’t you?”

  ‘Tracer’ knew he was getting nowhere with Nick and so he attempted a different tack. “The thing is, Nick, that alien was using you. Don’t you get it? She and her kind are very dangerous. I can understand how you might feel sorry for her, cooped up at Groom Lake for years in that dormitory they built for the extraterrestrials. But Amie is not human and has a way of controlling people’s minds. Our people knew about that all along. That’s why precautions were taken.”

  “I will admit to you that I enjoyed working with Amie. She was a good worker, very knowledgeable, and a fine colleague. That is all.”

  “Amie tried a bid for escape once before, on another guy working there.”

  “So I have already heard.”

  “You’re worried about your future. Maybe you think if you help us out, you’ll lose your pension. Or maybe worse, maybe you think we’ll arrest you for aiding in her escape. Listen, Nick, everyone knows it was mind-control. Even now, she’s got you under some kind of spell. They would be real lenient on you, because of that. Here,” and he held out his phone, “call my boss, Lt. Col. Harding, he’s prepared to make an offer.”

  ‘Tracer’ knew that wasn’t true, but gambled on whether or not Nick might take the bait.

  “No thanks, I’ve got no reason to call your boss. I’m not going to make a false confession, either. I don’t know where Amie is right now and that’s the truth. I can’t help you because I just don’t know.”

  ‘Tracer’ signaled ‘Gunner’, with a shake of the head, that it was time to exit. “We’ll be sticking around the area, Nick. I can’t wait until your buddy Doug comes back. Then we’ll get both of you and your son together in the same room, after we interview all of you guys separately. Won’t that be fun.”

  The two men left and Nick slammed the door behind them. “What a bunch of bastards,” he thought. But then he smiled, realizing that “they haven’t got her yet.”

  “Get a hold of the Coast Guard, ‘Gunner’. Ask them to put out a search for Peyton’s boat “Running Free”. I have a bad feeling it might not be coming back in two days, like Nick told us.”

  Terri handled the grocery stop with Laura while Tom and Doug negotiated getting fuel for the boat. Amie was supposed to go with the two women, but she opted instead to wander around the many quaint buildings investigating the area. Suddenly she was confronted by two of the many friendly, stray mongrels that run loose in small packs over the island.

  A small boy stood in a doorway nearby, watching Amie curiously. He could tell by the way Amie pulled back from the sniffing dogs that she was afraid of them. The odd looking woman really became agitated when both dogs began barking at her. “No worrys, dey just one of dem ‘potcakes’”, he called out to Amie.

  The boy was referring to one of the cay colloquialisms for their many dogs. “Dey no pay you no mind, mam. Just sniffin’ for food most like.” But he thoughtfully came over to Amie and shooed the dogs away, yelling, “Skip Town, Shut Up, you both get outta here.”

  Thanking the boy, who then stared at her with his mouth agape, Amie scurried away and returned to the safety of the grocery store. Terri and Laura were just walking out, their arms full of bags, as Amie returned. Terri handed Amie a six-pack of beer to carry back to the boat. But before the women got more than a few yards, a local boy came running up to them with a little cart and offered to help them take their groceries back to the boat. The lad was so persistent that he began taking the items from the arms of Amie and Laura, before the women had time to decide whether they really needed his assistance. Terri relented and let him help them. He, as well as most of the island folk, seemed desperate to find ways to make a few dollars in tips
any way that they could.

  When they arrived at the boat, the boy handed the goods to Doug and Tom, and Terri tipped the lad generously. He smiled through dazzling white teeth, thanked her, and scooted back to the vicinity of the grocery store.

  Doug and Tom had the boat ready to go and the crew cast off with the help of the local dockhands. Doug announced they would head south to Double Breasted Cay. “I heard that they have an excellent beach there that is great for swimming. We can spend the day there and then come back here tonight for dinner.” Doug had heard of a place called ‘Jolly’s Bar’ that had sounded very appealing to him.

  Laura had checked at Rosie’s and found they did have accommodations on the island, although nothing was “too fancy”. She decided to talk with Tom about it and see if they could spend the night either in a hotel or one of Rosie’s cottages, rather than the deck of Doug’s boat. She and Terri had both had enough of the “camping out” experience. But they were looking forward to a long day at the beach.

  Negotiating their way to the sandy beach required another northerly entrance, so Doug motored first to the southern end and then turned northward. The captain had suggested they anchor just a little offshore and take a dingy, if they had one, into the shore. “You can better tell that way where your boat can be brought in and how far,” the ‘old salt’ had advised.

  Doug brought “Running Free” to a stop in 9 feet of water, about 100 yards from a long, white sandy beach. He and Tom took down the kayak and put it into the water. Terri had changed into her bathing suit, and went down the stern ladder into the pristine, blue-green waters and swam over to the kayak. She pulled herself up onto it, only to immediately roll it over. Doug was standing on deck laughing heartily at the sight of his wife struggling with the kayak. Terri wasn’t pleased at being the object of his derision, and she let a few curse words fly to let him know it. After two more tries, Terri managed to get into the small cockpit of the kayak. As she paddled towards shore, she could easily see the sandy bottom, completely devoid of rocks and coral. Terri gave the all clear for Doug to motor in as far as he could. She watched from the beach as “Running Free” ran softly aground in less than 3 feet of clear water.