by Len du Randt
Andrew just raised his eyebrows and smiled. ‘Shame, bud.’
‘Yeah, total bummer,’ Trevor said as they entered the living room. His mind was racing with ideas to subtly change the topic, but could think of none that would work, so he just remained quiet.
‘What’s this?’ Andrew asked as they sat down on the sofa together. He picked up a book and flipped through the pages.
‘Oh that,’ Trevor said disinterested. ‘It’s a book that Norman wanted to give me for my birthday a while ago.’
‘Wanted?’ Andrew asked without taking his eyes off the book as he flipped through it for the third time.
‘Yeah,’ Trevor said. ‘I found it in his apartment. He never gave it to me. He saw Andrew’s intrigued expression as he flipped through the book again. ‘Want to borrow it?’ he asked.
‘Have you read it yet?’
‘Nope, and I’m not intending to; not within this millennium at least.’
‘You afraid that you might see the light?’
Trevor only laughed. ‘I started reading it,’ he admitted, ‘but only got to about page three when I closed it for good. It felt like I was reading a car repair instruction manual.’
Andrew chuckled. ‘Thanks, bud.’
‘Don’t mention it,’ Trevor said, hoping that Andrew would forget to return the book.
Andrew placed the book down next to him as René entered the living room. She carried a tray with mugs and cookies, and the aroma of freshly made coffee followed her.
‘So what’s your take on this whole ‘alien’ business?’ Andrew asked when they were all comfortably settled with their mugs.
‘I believe it,’ Trevor said without hesitation.
‘So you believe in little green men from Mars?’ Andrew asked. It was a loaded question. One that, if answered in the negative, could contradict Trevor’s previous statement, but if positive could prove Trevor to be narrow-minded. He would have to explain why he believed in little green men from Mars, but not in well documented human history that proves a specific person walked the Earth and died on a cross over two thousand years ago.
‘I don’t know what colour they are,’ Trevor said after some thought. ‘And I also don’t know how tall or from what planet they are. But one thing I do know is that they exist. Norman and I saw a ship when we were younger.’
‘You did?’ René asked and sat upright.
‘Yes. We were only little boys, no older than seven, and were out camping with a friend and his father. It was dusk and we were sitting around a camp fire when the four of us heard a loud screeching sound, almost like that of a worn out fan belt. We looked at the hills in the distance and saw a huge, green object descend vertically behind it. It was weird, I tell you, and what made it weirder still was our friend’s father’s reaction.
‘He looked like he had seen a ghost and immediately began taking down the tent and packing the car. He mumbled to himself as he clumsily clattered everything together and shoved us into the back seat nervously. I asked him if we were going to see what it was, but he just sped off in the opposite direction and took us straight home.’
‘Did you ever find out what it was?’ Andrew asked after a short moment of silence.
‘To this day I still believe that it was not of this world. Maybe it belonged to the very beings that attacked us now.’
‘And Norman? What did he think about it?’
‘At first he believed it, but after he converted it conflicted with his beliefs, obviously, so he found something to justify it with. According to him, a friend told him that the government had hollowed out all the mountains around Pretoria. The top of the mountains could, according to his friend, open and close like hangars.
‘What we had seen had apparently been a secret plane sent out to collect the debris of one of our shot-down planes. They did that whenever one of our fighter jets were shot down outside our borders. They would then bring the wreckage back for investigation.’
‘You don’t believe it?’ René asked, not because she did, but because she was interested in his opinion.
‘I don’t know what I saw that night,’ Trevor said, ‘but it wasn’t a plane bringing a wreckage home from Botswana, if that’s what you’re asking. It was round, it was green, and it descended vertically with the scream of a banshee. You do the math.’
‘Sounds U.F.O to me,’ René said, having made up her mind. She wouldn’t be told otherwise, especially not after what had happened two weeks earlier.
‘U.F.O doesn’t spell Alien,’ Andrew said, ‘but I do agree that whatever it was, it sure doesn’t sound like it had been transporting wreckage.’
There was a brief moment of silence and understanding between the three of them. ‘Come,’ Trevor said, breaking the silence as he finished his coffee. ‘We gotta go.’
- - -* * *- - -
Being careful not to appear too conspicuous, Malcolm joined a small crowd that surrounded the two unknown, middle aged men. They were wearing nothing but sackcloth, and Malcolm gasped when he recognized one of them.
That man was in my house, he thought. But why would Elijah, assuming that this man indeed is Elijah, be dressed like a derelict?
‘Fathers,’ the man whom Malcolm decided to call Elijah, shouted. It was so unexpected that a few people jerked and jumped back a bit. ‘Turn your hearts back toward your sons!’
‘Sons,’ the other man continued where the first had stopped. ‘Take heed to love your fathers!’
Malcolm did not recognize the second man, but he spoke with the same authority as the Elijah-figure.
‘Repent now, sinners!’ Elijah said, eyeing the crowds. ‘For Elohim shall not contend with your evil natures forever!’
‘Repent now, sinners,’ the other man said. ‘For the Lord, Elah Yisrael, has judged you, and is about to pour out His wrath on your kind!’
Everyone in the crowd felt angered by their words and accusations. Who are you to judge us? The question was shouted from somewhere within the crowd. Yeah! Someone else joined in. Who do you think you are to try and teach us anything about our families or Lord?
The men didn’t answer any of the questions. They just stared expressionlessly at the people in front of them.
Answer us, you cowards! The crowd was growing more aggressive by the minute and Malcolm could sense that there would be bloodshed if this situation wasn’t contained soon. He stepped out of the crowd and stood alone between the two men and the potential mob. ‘Who are you?’ he asked as politely as possible, studying Elijah’s eyes for a glimmer of recognition. There was none.
‘We are servants of the Most High,’ Elijah’s companion said.
‘And what is the aim of this...this public demonstration?’
‘To reunite son with father,’ Elijah said, ‘and father with his Maker.’
‘And what are your names?’ Malcolm asked, still trying to see if Elijah would recognize him.
‘Our names are not important,’ Elijah’s companion answered, ‘but our message is.’
‘Let him who has ears hear,’ Elijah said loudly, speaking to the crowd. ‘Lest the Lord your God smite you with His plagues!’
‘Smite this!’ someone from within the crowd shouted as he hurtled a large rock at the two men. Elijah lifted his hand, and the rock bounced away from them as if it had been deflected by an invisible force field. The rock flew through the air and smashed into the wall of a building not too far off. Everyone took an instinctive step back, and Elijah’s eyes locked on those of the man that had thrown the rock. ‘You dare assault prophets of the Most High?’ he asked.
‘You’re crazy,’ the man said and everyone laughed. ‘Not prophets!’
‘If we are prophets of the Most High,’ Elijah said and raised his hands into the air, ‘let fire come down from Heaven and consume you!’
Everyone gasped as the clouds above them changed to a dirty orange colour and swirled into a spiral above them. Lightning flashed in the skies as the wind kicked up dust and sand ever
ywhere.
Malcolm covered his eyes; his hair waved violently in the forceful wind and, had he blinked, he would have missed the column of fire that burst from the clouds and engulfed the rock thrower. The fire had only consumed the man for a fraction of a second, but when it was gone, so too was the man. All that remained where he had stood a second earlier was a charred corpse, mummified in fear; hard as rock.
The crowd scattered like roaches do in a kitchen when someone suddenly turns on a light. They really are prophets of HaShem! Panic and fear set in as they ran. No! They’re aliens! They’re attacking again!
Malcolm didn’t know what to think, but he also ran as fast as he could to get away from the men. He reached his car and dared to steal only one glance in the direction of the men as he sped off.
- - -* * *- - -
The drive to the school went surprisingly smooth as most of the rubble, wreckage, and debris had already been cleared up. There were a few closed off roads, but it was easy enough to navigate around them.
René just stared out the passenger window of Andrew’s car. A tear rolled down her cheek as she replayed the attack in her mind, watching in helpless horror as the woman disappeared right in front of her eyes. She felt alone and vulnerable. If it hadn’t been for Trevor’s companionship, she most probably would not have made it through the ordeal.
‘Let’s get some sound in here to drown out the silence, shall we?’ Andrew said and switched on the radio. The last few seconds of the new ‘multi-talented’ ballad, United We Won, streamed from the speakers. The song had been playing repeatedly for the last four days, and people all over the world were mouthing the words without even realizing it.
Where were you when all hope crumbled?
Why couldn’t I say goodbye?
The emotion was tangible, and everyone in the car sensed the next person’s personal, silent agony.
I am still here; your light will still shine.
United we won, oh baby of mine!
The song faded and Trevor’s thoughts drifted to Norman and to his parents. He bit his lower lip to prevent himself from crying in front of his friends. He almost did. The song ended and Trevor managed to bring his emotions under control. A familiar jingle announced the news headlines, and Andrew turned up the volume.
‘Tired community workers rejoiced today as three trapped survivors of the alien attacks were found at an abandoned building near one of the community centres in Italy. The survivors were in critical condition, and have been rushed to the nearest hospital where they will be treated for dehydration and malnutrition.
‘One man was brutally scorched in Jerusalem today. Eye witnesses to the account said that two men called down fire from the sky, killing the man instantly. According to the eye witnesses, the men also threatened to overrun the country with other plagues if the government didn’t submit to their demands. United Nations Peace Keepers will be called in to investigate the claims and the two men.’
‘What is it with Jerusalem and fire nowadays?’ Trevor mused sarcastically.
‘European Union Negotiator, Victor Yoshe, has been promoted to Secretary General of the European Union at a conference held in Brussels earlier today,’ the news reader continued. ‘The vote was unanimous as world leaders decided on the right candidate to replace the late Secretary General Jamal Gani, whose body was discovered almost two days ago. The cause of death has been established as ‘suicide,’ but the details still remain unclear.’
‘Yoshe is the right man for the position,’ Trevor said. ‘He knows his stuff.’ Both Andrew and René agreed without hesitation.
‘The remaining leaders of the world’s religions are scheduled to meet in Dubai next week for discussions about doctrinal impacts of the recent alien attacks. The meetings will be headed by Arch Bishop Antonio Pascale.’
Andrew switched off the radio as they approached the community centre. ‘Okay guys,’ he said as he parked the car, ‘let’s do this.’
- - -* * *- - -
The queue was longer than they had anticipated. Some people brought chairs and books to read, while others just lingered around, trying to keep themselves busy by making small talk with the people around them. The three of them finally reached the front of the queue and were called to their own, private booths.
‘I.D. please,’ a plump woman asked without looking up. Trevor placed his ID book on the palm of her outstretched hand. She took it, looked at the photo, looked up at Trevor for a second, frowned, looked at the photo again, and then hacked away at her keyboard as she captured his information into the system. ‘Please look into the camera and smile,’ she said without any form of enthusiasm or motivation. She twisted the Webcam on her monitor to face him, and he smiled weakly. ‘Done,’ she said and turned her screen to face him. ‘Is this okay?’
‘Yes,’ he said and shrugged. ‘It’s fine.’ He didn’t want to talk to her more than she wanted to talk to him.
‘Fill this out,’ she said and slapped a document down in front of him. He took a pen from her and supplied the stranger with his residential address, postal address, banking details, work details, contact details, email address, website, and information on deceased family and relatives. According to the form, the section about the deceased was to assist the government in determining who had been ‘lost’ during the alien attacks, and also served as a kind of census to establish how many people disappeared and how many remained.
These forms were being filled out all across the world as Trevor finished submitting his details. He handed back the documents, and she shoved another form at him on which he had to fill out his name, signature, and date. He complied, wondering how much longer he would be sitting there and how many more forms he would still have to complete.
‘Here you go, Mister Elliot,’ she said and slid a plastic card over the counter toward him. He picked up the card and rubbed his thumb over the glossy picture that she had taken a few minutes earlier. He was impressed.
‘Next,’ the woman said, and Trevor moved away from the counter.
‘How’s your pic?’ Andrew asked as he joined Trevor at the entrance. Trevor reluctantly showed him the picture that didn’t quite display his best qualities.
‘Just as sexy as mine,’ Andrew said and placed the picture of himself in front of his face. They both chuckled, and then Andrew handed a folded sheet of paper to Trevor.
‘What’s this?’
‘Instructions on how to use this piece of plastic,’ Andrew said. ‘Apparently we are to use this thing whenever we buy anything, be it credit or cash.’
‘And if we want to use cash?’ Trevor asked, not willing to lose some of the savings he had stashed strategically in his apartment.
‘You can,’ Andrew said, ‘but they tax us on it; heavy. You pay up to three hundred percent more if you use paper money. It’s all in here.’
‘You have got to be kidding me,’ Trevor said. ‘What do I do with the cash at my place?’
‘You can hand it in at the bank, in exchange for whatever they call the virtual money that we use now.’
‘Most probably Credits,’ Trevor said. ‘Like in those old Science Fiction movies.’
‘Probably, yeah.’
René joined them, and after a short comparison session with their photos, they got into the car. They decided to go for a ride around the city to do some damage assessment before heading back to Trevor’s apartment.
- - -* * *- - -
‘I’m sorry, sir, but you cannot pass through here.’ The cop was intimidating, and leaned into Andrew’s window to sniff for any traces of alcohol.
‘Why not?’ Trevor asked from the back seat.
The officer looked at Trevor, then back at Andrew. He wasn’t in the mood for small talk, and he was sure enough not going to let them pass. But he remained courteous. His job required it of him. ‘All major cities have been blocked off until early Monday morning,’ he explained. ‘They’re still doing major cleanup jobs. All alien craft are considered highly ra
dioactive, and thus very dangerous to humans.’
‘You mean to say that there are still alien space ships in there?’ René asked as she leaned forward for a better view of the cop.
‘We can neither confirm nor deny the presence of alien ships,’ the cop said as ambiguously as he could.
‘What about the people that actually live in the city?’ Trevor asked.
‘Community shelters,’ the cop replied without even glancing in his direction. ‘You had best be moving along now.’
‘Thank you, officer,’ Andrew said and turned the key in the ignition. He turned the car around, and the cop disappeared in the distance as they drove back to Trevor’s apartment.
- - -* * *- - -
‘Get the snipers on the roof!’ the Commander yelled into his radio as a chopper flew low over his head. ‘And get the Alpha and Delta teams into position!’
The two men just stood still, allowing the scene to unfold. They saw the snipers positioning themselves on the rooftops. They saw the two teams of six scrambling for cover behind a buffer of rubble. The leader of these U.N. Peacekeeping Forces now approached them accompanied by two lower ranking officers, one on each side. He tried to keep his face stern, letting the two men that he was in control, and not them. He stopped when he reached what he figured to be a ‘safe’ distance from the men, and held up a fist. The two officers next to him stopped instantly.
‘Greetings,’ the Commander shouted at the two. He wore dark sunglasses that hid his eyes from them. But the twelve armed men behind the rubble and the two teams of snipers betrayed his true intentions. The two men just stared at the Commander, neither saying a word.
‘We’ve heard some disturbing things about you two,’ the Commander said as he studied their body language. ‘Would you care to comment?’