The disc slowed down and came to a stop directly above the Suburban. The light from the disc was blinding. Black raised a hand to block the glow, in an attempt to get a better look at the object silently hovering above her Suburban. Instead of feeling scared, Black was surprised to find she was quite calm. Seconds later, curiosity got the better of her. She opened her door and stepped out onto the road. Black squinted, trying to see the craft floating in the night sky.
In the blink of an eye, the disc went dark. Then a single, bluish-white light shone down onto Black. An uneasy feeling washed over her the longer the light was on her. She felt it was intrusive and unwelcome. A second later, the light vanished, leaving Black on the darkened road, looking up at the belly of the craft. Without making a sound, the disc raced off at treetop level, into the night.
The SUV’s lights and engine came on, startling Black. She looked back at her vehicle, and saw the power was back on. Black hurried to get back into her Suburban and reached for her radio handset, but stopped before she could pick it up. Black wasn’t sure what had just happened to her. She had no idea what she would report. With so many strange things happening in her town, she decided to wait until she got back into town, and then track down the team of UFO investigators. Perhaps they could help her understand what she had just witnessed. But first, she had to check on her people. Black had to know if they were all right.
Chapter 25
“Well, that was the last house on this side of the main street,” said Maclean to Grant, “and I didn’t see hide nor hair of Joe in the alleyway, either.”
“I wonder if he flagged down a passing car and got a lift back to his place?” pondered Grant.
“Not sure why he’d go back. His place is a wreck, and he’s hardly in any shape to repair the place by himself.”
“He’s distraught over the loss of his pets and isn’t thinking straight.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I think this is going to turn out to be a dead end. Why don’t we go and see how the other half is doing with the police?”
Grant nodded and turned to leave, when a brilliant orange light flew right over the town without making a sound.
“My God, did you see that?” said Maclean, wide-eyed.
“I sure as hell did. It looked like it was heading toward the lake.”
“We’ve got to tell Elena and Jeremy what we just saw.”
At a gas station across the street, a dog started barking loudly, as if trying to frighten someone off.
“Somebody sure sounds pissed,” said Maclean.
“There’s probably a raccoon rummaging through the garbage.” Grant paid the animal no heed as he continued to the police station, when all of a sudden, the dog yelped in pain and went silent.
Maclean spun on his heel and took off running. Grant drew his pistol from behind his back and ran after him. At the gas station, they found the front door slightly ajar. Grant dug out his Maglite and turned it on, as did Maclean, after drawing his own weapon. Both men shone their lights all around the inside of the darkened store.
“There,” said Maclean, shining his light on a pool of blood on the linoleum floor.
Grant’s pulse quickened. “You go left, and I’ll go right.”
Maclean nodded and slid inside.
As quietly as he could, Grant stepped inside, keeping his hands out in front of him. Everywhere he shone his light; his pistol hand was at the ready. The sound of several cans of food hitting the ground to his left surprised Grant. He swung his light over and took up the slack on his pistol’s trigger.
“Don’t shoot,” cried out Sparks, standing there with his hands in the air.
“For the love of God, Mister Sparks, what are you doing in here?” asked Grant, lowering his weapon.
“I heard a dog cry out, and ran to see if I could help,” replied Sparks.
Grant and Maclean walked to the old man’s side. At his feet was a dead pit bull. Its throat looked like it had been ripped from its muscular neck. The floor was slick with blood.
“Did you see what did this?” Maclean asked Sparks.
Sparks shook his head. “Sorry, no. It was too dark in here to see anything until you two arrived.”
Grant placed his pistol back in its holster. “Mister Sparks, would you please tell me why you left the clinic?”
Sparks furrowed his brow. “What are you talking about? I wasn’t at any clinic.”
“Yes, you were. We left you at one late this afternoon.”
“I don’t recall being dropped off at a clinic. Are you fellas sure it was me?”
Grant looked into the old man’s eyes and saw confusion. “Sir, if you’ll come with us, we’ll take you back to the clinic to get you checked out by one of the nurses working there. I think you may have bumped your head earlier in the day and are suffering from post-concussion amnesia.”
“Yeah, let us take you back,” added Maclean, draping a tarp on top of the dead dog.
“If you insist,” said Sparks.
Outside, Grant looked at Maclean. “Why don’t you head to the police station and let them know that the gas station was broken into and that the guard dog has been killed, while I take Mister Sparks back to the clinic.”
“All right, boss, I’ll meet you there.” Maclean took off jogging toward the station.
“It’s a good thing everything is so close in this town,” said Grant to Sparks, guiding him by the arm.
“It sure is,” replied the old man.
“Sir, do you remember anything before you heard the dog yelping?”
Sparks didn’t say a word; his gaze was fixed on the night sky.
Grant stopped walking and looked down at the old man. “Sir, can you recall what you were doing before the dog was killed?”
Sparks said nothing. He just stood there, staring up at the stars.
Grant decided to try a different line of questioning. “Joe, did you see that orange light fly over the town a couple of minutes ago?”
“Why, yes, I did,” replied Sparks, smiling from ear to ear.
Grant tried to push his luck. “Think hard, Joe. Did you see something similar last night over the lake by your home?”
“You know about the other light?”
“Yes.” Before Grant could say another word, Sparks balled up his fist, and with lightning-fast speed, he smashed it straight into the side of Grant’s jaw. The soldier dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
Sparks looked down at Grant and saw the man was unconscious. He quickly looked around to make sure no one had seen what had just happened. Sparks reached down and grabbed Grant by his shirt collar, dragged him between two buildings, and dropped the body on the ground. He bent down and studied the face of the man he had subdued. Sparks couldn’t decide if he should kill the man or not. His death wouldn’t mean a thing to him, just another in a long line of dead adversaries. He stood up and left Grant lying in a heap. Although unfamiliar, the man had shown him kindness. Sparks decided, for now, to let him live. If, however, the man came after him, then Sparks would be forced to kill him. He walked out of the dark and onto the street. Sparks looked back up at the star-filled sky and smiled. He couldn’t believe his luck. Another ship had arrived. Yesterday, he would have given himself less than a five percent chance of completing his experiment and getting away alive. Now, his odds were nearly fifty-fifty. Sparks began to run. He had to get back before the new arrival found out what he was up to and tried to put an end to his life’s work.
Chapter 26
A light fog blanketed the road.
A flash of light caught Sheriff Black’s eye. She turned off her high beams and slowed down. She came to a halt on the shoulder and parked her car. Black bit her lip when she realized she was looking at the back of a vehicle belonging to the State Troopers that sat askew off the edge of the highway. She opened her door and got out. The air was damp and cold. She removed the flashlight from her belt and switched it on. The light barely penetrated the mist. Black slowly
moved her light around and discovered that the front end of the cruiser was submerged in the black water of a marsh. She walked to the open driver’s side door and looked inside.
The car was empty. The front seats were covered in was fetid water, and the front windshield was shattered inward. It looked to Black as if the State Troopers had unexpectedly hit something on the road which had flown into the windshield, smashing it, and caused them to swerve off the road and into the swamp. Her blood turned to ice when her flashlight picked up blood smears on the leather seats.
Something had gone horribly wrong. Black clenched her jaw and shone her light all around. “Hello, this is Sheriff Black, is anyone out there?”
The only reply came from the frogs croaking in the water next to the road.
Black walked around the cruiser looking for footprints. In the soft ground by the driver’s-side door were a set of tracks, leading away from the vehicle. Black placed her hand on her pistol and followed the trail. The tracks abruptly stopped at the edge of the swamp.
“God, no. Not again,” muttered Black to herself, when she found several expended 9mm casings lying on the ground. She moved her light all over the ground and found a strange-looking track. It looked like a cat’s paw print, only much larger. Black had tracked mountain lions before, but she had never seen a track as large as the ones at her feet. She had seen enough. Black drew her sidearm and removed the safety with her thumb. With her hand tight around her weapon’s pistol grip, Black followed the trail. A couple of seconds later, she stopped in her tracks. A shiver ran down her spine when she saw obvious signs of a struggle, and blood on the damp grass. Fear for her people gripped her heart. Kyle Harrison and Tracey Tibeluk’s faces flashed before her eyes. Black spun around, and sprinted for her SUV. She yanked open the door and jumped inside. Right away, she reached for her radio handset.
“Officer Harrison, Officer Tibeluk, this is Sheriff Black, do you read me, over?”
There was only silence.
Black repeated her message. Again, there was no response. She fought the growing feeling of desperation taking hold in her chest.
“Any call sign, this is Sheriff Black, do you read me, over?”
When no one answered her, Black let a scream and threw the handset against the dash of her SUV. She started her Suburban, threw the vehicle in drive, and jammed her foot down hard on the accelerator. Rocks and dirt flew up in the air behind her vehicle as it sped off into the night.
Less than five minutes had passed before she saw the road leading to Mrs. Moore’s home. Without bothering to slow down, Black spun the steering wheel and shot up the narrow dirt track leading through the woods. In her headlights, she saw the other officers’ police vehicle. Black drove as fast as she could to the Suburban before jamming her foot down hard on the brake pedal. Her vehicle fishtailed from side to side as it came to a sliding halt next to the other SUV. Black pushed open her door and ran to the side of the vehicle and looked inside.
Just like the other vehicle, it was empty.
“No,” croaked Black. “Please Lord, not my people.”
A light came out of the dark, blinding her.
“Sheriff Black, is that you?” said a familiar voice.
Robin Black could have leaped for joy when she recognized Tracey’s voice. She turned and walked toward the person holding the flashlight. “Officer Tibeluk, why didn’t you call back to the station when you got here?” Black’s tone was firm.
“We did, Sheriff,” said Tibeluk. “Ask Mrs. Moore, she can tell you that we tried at least a couple of dozen times before giving up.”
Black looked around. “Where’s Kyle?”
“He’s resting inside. The damned fool broke his right leg when he stepped in a rabbit hole in the dark.”
“At least he’s alive.” Black patted the younger officer on the shoulder as she walked past her and into Mrs. Moore’s home. Harrison was propped up on an old blue couch with his foot resting on a couple of pillows.
“Sorry, Sheriff,” said Harrison. “Some days I think if I didn’t have bad luck I’d have no luck at all.”
Black smiled. She bent down and checked out the injury. His ankle was swollen and discolored a dark purplish-blue. “I don’t think you broke your leg. It does, however, look like you may have broken your ankle.”
“Evening, Sheriff,” said Mrs. Moore, an outgoing woman in her late forties who was carrying a little extra weight around her midriff.
“Evening to you, too, Wendy,” replied Black. “I take it you haven’t heard from your husband or your son?”
Tears filled Moore’s eyes. “No, I haven’t, Sheriff. This isn’t like them. I know in my heart something has gone wrong.”
Black didn’t doubt that for one second. “Since my officers’ radio doesn’t seem to be working could I please use your phone to call back to town?”
“It’s not working, either,” said Tibeluk. “We tried using it after our radio crapped out.”
Black chewed her lip for a couple of seconds. “Well, we can’t stay out here all night. Kyle needs to see a doctor, and I don’t think it would be wise if Wendy were to stay out here by herself.”
“What if Raymond and Bob come back?” asked Mrs. Moore.
“Write them a note and tell them to stay put until first light. I’ll drop you and Kyle off at the clinic. They can find you there.”
“Okay, Sheriff,” said Mrs. Moore, as she looked around for a pen and paper.
“What do you want us to do?” asked Tibeluk.
“You and I will help Kyle into the backseat of your vehicle,” said Black. “Mrs. Moore can ride with me.”
“What about my foot?” asked Harrison.
Black smiled. “Tracey, fetch me a fairly thick magazine, and ask Wendy for a tensor bandage, and I’ll show you how to make an expedient splint.”
“Is it going to hurt?” queried Harrison.
“Sure, but it won’t bother me in the slightest.”
When everyone was safe and secure in the two police vehicles, Black waved for Tibeluk to follow them back to town. With the radios and phones unable to transmit, Black was more convinced than ever that the military was somehow behind what was going on, and she intended to find out what it was.
Chapter 27
Grant sat straight up. His jaw hurt like hell. It took him a few seconds to realize he was sitting on the ground between a couple of buildings. Grant hadn’t been coldcocked since he was a freshman at West Point, when he had foolishly tried to break up a fight between a couple of his drunken classmates at a bar. He rubbed the side of his face and stood up. Grant walked out onto the road and looked around. Sparks was nowhere in sight. For an old man, Sparks had been able to land one hell of a blow. Why he had hit Grant was a mystery to him. He shook his head. If Sparks didn’t want their help, with everything else that was going on, he could go to hell as far as Grant was concerned.
He walked to the police station. Inside, he found his friends sitting at a table, drinking coffee.
“Hey, you look like crap,” said Maclean. “What happened to you?”
“Sparks sucker-punched me and ran off,” replied Grant.
“What? Are you telling me that sweet old man was able to knock you down?” said Elena.
“Yes. And in my books, he isn’t so sweet and lovable anymore.”
“Where is he now?” asked Hayes.
“Beats me,” said Grant. “I suspect he took off back home.”
“What, in the dark?”
“I guess so,” said Grant, pulling out a chair to sit down on. Maclean poured him a cup of coffee and handed it to him.
“I hope Mister Sparks knows what he’s doing,” said Elena.
Grant looked at Maclean. “Did you tell the receptionist that the gas station has been broken into, and the guard dog is dead?”
“Yeah, she tried calling the owner,” replied Maclean. “But the phone lines aren’t working.”
“Come again?”
“The phone
, the Internet, the police radios, cell service…you name it. Every form of communication in town all went dead at the same time,” said Hayes.
Grant reached for his phone and saw there were no bars on the screen. “Is the disturbance localized to just the town?”
“Right now, it’s impossible to determine how far this goes.”
“What’s all this?” asked Grant, pointing at the map behind Elena, covered in yellow sticky notes.
“It would appear that there has been a rash of disappearances to the north of the town,” said Elena.
Grant leaned forward in his chair. “What kind of disappearances?”
“A fair number of animals and people have gone missing since the UFO flew over the town last night.”
Grant’s pulse quickened. “How many people are we talking about?”
“Right now, three that we’re aware of. The phones were ringing off the hook up until about five minutes ago, when the lines went dead.”
“What do you want to bet that NORAD’s satellites can’t see the town again?”
“I wouldn’t take that bet,” said Maclean. “Ever since that orange orb flew over the town, we have been cut off from the outside world.”
“What orange orb?” asked Elena, leaping out of her seat.
Maclean hit his forehead with his palm. “Sorry, I got so sidetracked reporting the break-in to Sheryl that I forgot to tell you we saw a bright-orange light streak across the sky.”
“When?” asked Hayes.
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