BAD RAIN: A SCI-FICTION THRILLER

by Michael Mazzarelli

  Ten hours after the announcement from the President of the United States of America that Pluto and Earth would collide, General Stormer received a message from Air Blue. He was surprised to hear from them, but then again, military personal believe in fighting to the death rather than giving up and waiting helplessly until the Grim Reaper knocked.

  “General, this is Air Blue, one of our search and rescue helicopters has found a small, round object on the ground near Splendid China. They also report they found both F-10s down in the same area.”

  “Any signs of life?” the General responded.

  “No, sir. I told our men not to land and search the area until I heard from you. Do you want us to conduct a full search of the area?”

  “Give me the location and we’ll meet your search teams in twenty minutes.” The General requested.

  Jeff heard the conversation and before the General asked, he arranged with his station manager to have the helicopter ready for departure in five minutes.

  Agent Woods, Donemore and General Stormer set out to meet the search teams. Jeff and Janet stayed back at the station to monitor any hoped for deviations in course regarding the pending collision of Pluto and Earth.

  Arriving in the area Air Blue had described, the General, Woods and Donemore were met with two search and rescue helicopters, Stormer giving the order over the intercom that the second helicopter should follow them. After a quick search over the area, they could see the downed F-10s and the smaller round shaped object that obviously had done battle with our fighter jets. It was apparent no one had won.

  “Set down near the alien ship,” Stormer barked out. “I want the other guys to split up and land near the F-10s. Look for any survivors and report back to me as soon as you find anything.”

  The site was one of the common orange groves of central Florida. The TV station pilot had no problem slowly descending because the strange object had cut and leveled trees, leaving a wide open area to land the chopper without worrying about the whirling blades hitting anything. Normally, extreme precautions would be taken approaching the small spacecraft that had presumably taken out our two fighter planes. Agent Woods would have a team check for contamination, special suits and other particulars notwithstanding, and just as soon as touchdown. Everyone assumed in less then two days Earth would no longer exist, so no precautions were deemed necessary. As soon as the pilot landed, Agent Woods, Donemore and General Stormer jumped from the helicopter, side arms in-hand, loaded with the safety off. Maybe they were going to die in a few hours, but it wasn’t going to be by an angry alien trying to roast them for dinner.

  Major network TV stations were still on the air with minute-to-minute updates on Pluto’s trajectory progress. In the bottom left hand comer of the TV screen was a 48-hour clock, like every New Year’s Eve in New York City’s Times Square, the clock ticking down to the second when the big event was to occur. Currently it showed Earth had a little less than 38 hours left. You would have thought that the impending death of mankind would cease all work, causing everything to come to a standstill. In some cases this was true, but for scientists that loved their work in astronomy, physics and related fields, this was an event unprecedented in Man’s limited history of trying to understand our solar system and beyond. They were not about to stop monitoring the event until it actually happened.

  At Kitt Peak National Observatory in Arizona, some scientists were watching, reading and listening to everything—radio and television news, as well as Internet information. Others were reviewing every little detail recorded and seen during the hours before the discovery of Pluto’s move. The big question that haunted everyone was what had happened to cause this. Did a huge asteroid hit Pluto, causing it to realign to an Earth-intercepting trajectory? There had to be an explanation, but as of yet no one had a smell of a logical theory. All the information the observatories were receiving was relayed by satellite to news networks around the world. Our world had become a place of instant information geared to one theme—how many hours left? With modem day technology, using satellites and huge ground transmitting dishes, we were used to seeing disasters, catastrophic weather, police chases, major news events and even wars live on television, right before our eyes. Modem Man—the Internet “electronics” Man—was inundated by headlines and “Breaking News” everywhere, live events as they were happening. People were glued to TV screens everywhere, at home and at work, watching and waiting for the next new bit of information about Pluto as it barreled toward Earth in a death trajectory to end all human history. The hope was that some miracle was going to take place and the ice ball would melt or somehow miss Earth. Then the following morning the sun would rise once more and it would be business as before, 24-7.

  As the clock on the lower left side of the TV slowly ticked backward to 36:20:15, Agent Woods walked around to what appeared to be an opening in the small alien spacecraft. From the smooth underside of the ship’s structure was a square opening with a ramp leading up to the opening. As he approached the ramp, he told Donemore and the General over the microphones that he had found a possible way in. They quickly met him and started to investigate around the ramp.

  Donemore commented, “Do you see what I see?” Small pools of glittering liquid could be seen on the ramp.

  Woods said, “And more can be found in the soil about ten feet from the ramp. I think whatever was inside is now out and has left a path. Why don’t you and the General find out where it leads, while I have a look-see in the craft, maybe find a lunch menu or something!”

  “Okay, Woods, but be careful inside that thing,” the General said.

  “Affirmative, sir. You be careful to, but if you find any little green men, tell Donemore she owes me one, big time.” Woods responded.

  “I’ll give you one, Woods! Just be damn sure,” Donemore said, “you’re careful in there so you can get your just reward. I don’t want you to be right all these years and find your precious alien didn’t like you evading his ship.”

  “I’ll be extra careful and hold you to that promise, Donemore,” Woods said, smiling.

  Only after he watched Donemore and the General pick up the trail of small pools of glittering liquid that tracked away from the ship, did Woods slowly start up the ramp. He had his weapon in one hand and a flashlight in the other as he entered the ship and quickly glanced around for any movement, heart pounding and adrenaline flowing as he slowly began investigating the inside of the alien spaceship. He moved his flashlight and gun simultaneously, up, down and around. The first thing he noticed was not by sight but smell, overwhelming and familiar. A further step forward, he realized the craft was about twice the size of an F-16 fighter, but seemed to have an enormous amount of space inside. The ramp entrance was in the middle and there was plenty of headroom, though it was obvious that within a few feet he would have to start crouching down to avoid the ship’s ceiling slope to the floor. There were no lights on inside, the only light source being a small opening passing sunlight in from the outside.

  Woods decided to move in the direction of the light. After a few steps, he noticed a small pool of liquid on the floor, similar to that on the ramp, realizing that the hair on his arms, neck and head was slowly beginning to rise. As he approached the light, he noticed a control panel and seat. Just above the control panel was a hole leading outside that was either caused by the impact or a hit from the F-16’s missile. He slowly moved up to the control panel and was looking at the gages when he heard a flutter and an object flew by his head!

  Woods panicked, jumped back and fired at the sound three or four times, the gunshots echoing inside the ship and ricocheting off anything and everything until losing velocity. He heard a thump, like a small falling object on the other side of the ship. His heart in his throat, he quickly moved toward the sound. If he had hit something he wanted to make sure it was down and not about to attack him. Reaching the spot where he heard the sound, he stood in silence, hoping to hear something move. Within seconds he heard the fl
utter and shot just as the creature whizzed by him again. This time there was a large thump sound a few feet away. Maybe I’m lucky and hit it, Woods thought, his heart pounding hard against his tee-shirt. Slowly, he moved forward and just as his flashlight picked up an object lying on the floor.

  “Hurry! Come quick!” Donemore said, the words startling Woods so that he jumped straight up in the air, high enough to bang his head on the roof of the ship and make him fall off balance to the floor. As he turned to get up, his eyes picked up the object not five feet from him. His gun was already aimed in that direction but his flashlight had fallen on the floor. He fired, again and again until his clip was empty. There was a sudden silence as he scrambled to find his flashlight and aimed it at the alien he was sure he just killed.

  “Woods, are you alright? Please respond—”

  Christ, that woman is going to give me a heart attack! Woods thought, as his flashlight finally flooded a beam of light on a large black Raven, lying dead on the floor! “Shit, it must have flew in the open panel,” Woods said over his open microphone.

  “What flew in Woods, what’s going on? Do you need help?” the General asked.

  “I’m okay, sir, where are you guys located as I come down the ramp, so I can head in your direction,” Woods responded.

  “We’re about a hundred yards directly out from the ramp. You should be able to see us as you exit the ship,” Donemore said.

  Woods took another quick look around as he headed toward the ramp. He now realized that all the hair on his body was sticking straight out. Descending the ramp, Woods could see Donemore and the General off in the distance observing something lying on the ground. He broke into a run and was there in seconds. Donemore looked up at him and said, “Nice ‘Do’ Woods— Something scare you in that ship?”

  As Woods looked down at what the other two had discovered he replied, “I’ll tell you later, right now I think it’s obvious you owe me one, Donemore. I don’t think we’re looking at your every day tourist commonly found in this area of Florida, USA, Western Hemisphere, Earth, let alone this solar system. Plus, I always thought they were little green men.”

  Woods was referring to the alien life form lying on the ground, not moving and definitely not of this world. About six feet long, head, arms and legs somewhat similar to human but the similarity ended there. The head had two large eyes almost from front to back, with no nose, mouth or ears. The entire head was glowing like a neon light. The rest of the body had some sort of protective flight suit on, because the neon glow ended at the neck, the rest completely covered with a fabric gray in color. Near its side was a small opening which oozed a glittering silver liquid, matching the small pools inside the ship, ramp and trail that led them to where everyone was now.

  “Do you think it’s dead or alive,” Woods asked.

  The General responded, “Obviously, it was alive to walk this far from the ship on its own. We found what appears to be its helmet about twenty feet from here. I don’t know if taking its helmet off or what looks like a wound in its side caused it to collapse, but it hasn’t moved an inch since we found it.”

  “We have to get this thing to an area hospital, so I can see if I can help it,” Donemore said.

  The General called Jeff and asked if the station helicopter could pick them up at this location. If he called the local Orlando Regional Medical Center and requested a helicopter, all hell would break loose when they saw what was being transported. He wanted to keep the alien news to a minimum and Jeff’s station already knew what was going on.

  Donemore then made arrangements at FBI headquarters to have a team of Agents at the hospital to secure an emergency room so when they arrived with the alien, she could do whatever was deemed necessary, without outsiders interfering.

  Within minutes the helicopter arrived and Donemore and her special guest were loaded on. Jeff was on the chopper too, took one look at the alien and jumped off when the General and Woods said they were going to stay and investigate the small ship again. Jeff told the pilot to return to pick them up after he made the drop at the hospital.

  “Keep us informed, Donemore,” Woods said, as the helicopter was about to take off.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll do whatever I can to help this thing, I know how important this is to you—and Earth,” Donemore said.

  As they returned to the small ship, the General pointed out the alien’s protective helmet. Woods picked it up and gave it a quick once-over and then told them about the big Raven that almost gave him a heart attack. He also said that he didn’t think they would find any more aliens inside because the spacecraft only had a single seat in it.

  As they went inside and turned on their flashlights, Woods placed the helmet down near the ramp and headed to check out the broken panel that led to the outside. Jeff and The General started walking around the ship, looking for anything that could give them a clue as to what happened.

  After about a half-hour, they were all crouched at what appeared to be a control panel that had only a few simple controls and gauges. Woods said, “Everything seems to be shut off, otherwise I would think these controls would be illuminated. Then again, maybe he didn’t need light.”

  Jeff responded, “You guys know more about this stuff than I do, but I know that smell and why all of us look like we just stuck our fingers in an electrical outlet! Did you determine what caused this broken observation window, panel or whatever you want to call it?

  The General and Woods looked at each other, then at Jeff. All three had the hair on their heads sticking straight out. The General couldn’t help but laugh and repeated Donemore’s earlier comment, “Nice ‘Do’ Woods, something scare you?”

  Woods said, “This happened earlier when I was in here! Don’t laugh General, at least I have enough hair to still comb when we get out of here.

  “Jeff, it looks like our F-16s’ gunfire hit the window panel and broke it. Why do you ask?” And what’s that odor? I know I smelled it before but can’t put a name to it?”

  Just as Jeff was about to explain, Donemore’s voice came over their microphones, “Woods, you’ve got to get to the hospital! You won’t believe what’s behind the green door!”

  10

  THE TV STATION’S HELICOPTER PICKED UP THE General and Woods at the crash site, Woods making sure he had the alien’s helmet in-hand. The pilot said he had no problem bringing them back to Orlando Regional Medical Center but that he would then have to head back to the station. Woods wanted to know if the General and Jeff were going with him or heading back to the station.

  “While we’re flying to the hospital to drop you off, I want to make some calls,” the General said. “If nothing new is happening, then we’ll stay with you. I’m curious what Donemore is excited about.”

  Once airborne, the General called Air Blue, “This is Bad Rain One, any info on our downed jets?”

  Air Blue replied, “No, sir, our rescue choppers checked the downed aircraft and didn’t find any sign of the pilots. The F-16s are fried! It’s like they were hit with some sort of beam that melted every wire, display and control. We’re still hoping the pilots ejected before this thing struck our planes, but it seems unlikely. The choppers are covering the area in a search grid, hoping to find something, anything, anything at all. If anything comes up I’ll let you know.”

  “I appreciate that, Air Blue. Good luck— the General said.

  The second call went to the station to see if some sort of miracle had happened and nightmare Pluto had gone away. The big display screens in the control room at the TV station showed the clock in the bottom left hand corner at 32:20:10. Nothing had changed. Pluto was still on a trajectory to eliminate mankind in a little over a day.

  Scientists around the world were watching, analyzing and doing calculations on their computers, all scratching their heads at Pluto’s movement. Whatever had caused it to de-orbit and head toward Earth was baffling to say the least. If something had collided with Pluto, why hadn’t the object been see
n before collision? If they had missed the event, why hadn’t their instruments picked up on the tremendous explosion that must have happened when the object de-orbited Pluto? Pluto’s distance from Earth averaged 39.53 astronomical units (Aus), or some 3.6 billion miles. Every imaginable calculation yielded the same result—Pluto was approaching Earth at approximately 75 million mph. If it had been hit by something that nudged it out of orbit, the sun’s gravity wouldn’t pull with enough force to de-rail the projected trajectory to Earth. Something very large must have hit the planet traveling at a tremendous speed to bang the planet like a ball on a billiard table, sending it at an equally tremendous speed toward the intercept with Earth. No matter how they analyzed it there was no explanation, nothing that made sense anyway. Pluto had now reached its halfway journey to hell and was becoming visible around the world at different times with the naked eye. Understanding the relative sizes of neighboring celestial bodies made comparisons easier to comprehend. Our moon was approximately 2,100 miles in diameter, or about ¼ the size of Earth. Pluto was larger than Venus, nearly identical with Earth, or about four larger than our moon. The approaching dot kept getting brighter and brighter and, depending on your own prospects and how you chose to calculate things, matters were getting worse. Disheartening even more, it was picking up speed. The new calculation displayed in the lower left-hand corner of the TV showed 18:20:45. To some this was good news, a quicker end. To others it meant they had lost precious last hours of life.

  As the helicopter came within sight of ORMC, the General told Woods and Jeff about his telephone conversations and that he was going to go in with Woods at the hospital. Jeff requested to go also. Woods was glad Jeff wanted to come along.

  Landing on the roof at ORMC, they were not fully aware at the overwhelming chaos the hospital was in at the moment. They saw red lights from ambulances coming in all directions and general chaos nearby on the ground. Once out of the helicopter, they were escorted to a room heavily guarded by FBI Agents, and where Donemore was waiting.