by Mark Tufo
I had never been to Red Rocks but it was a sight to behold, it is or I should say was, an outdoor amphitheater. The place was full of natural beauty. It was dominated by brilliantly colored giant sandstone formations. It was unbelievable to be nestled between two four hundred foot high formations. The theater held roughly nine thousand people and was probably one of the most intimate settings for a concert I have ever or will ever be at. Even when not watching the band, the panoramic view of the plains was almost breathtaking. That and the fact I was about six thousand feet above sea level. The band was awesome. I’d never had so much fun at a concert in my entire life. It was the only concert I’d ever been to where I never sat down, the music was just that good. I just stood and danced the whole show away. It was right after the first intermission that I began to get a buzzing in my head. I know what you’re thinking. Yes, I was buzzed, but I was getting a buzzing sensation, almost as if a mosquito was around my ear, only this was bigger than a mosquito and it was seated a lot farther back in my head than my ear. Others must have felt it too because on occasion I would notice some of my fellow concert-goers turning their heads over their shoulders to look up to the back of the amphitheater. At first glance, I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, but upon further review I noticed an object up in the sky roughly the size of a quarter. It glowed a translucent greenish color; I thought it was the moon. I figured Beth should see this; I had never seen the moon with that color hue.
“Hey Beth, you should see the moon tonight—it’s unreal!” I shouted over the chorus of One Arm Steve.
“What’s so special about it? It’s not even full!” she shouted as she pointed to a spot directly over the stage.
“If that’s the moon, what the hell is—” I screamed. I’m sort of ashamed about that fact but I can guarantee you I wasn’t the only one. Whatever it was, it was huge and it was directly over Red Rocks. The whole amphitheater was covered up like a large Tupperware bowl, but this lid was far larger, it extended well over into the parking lots all around the theater. The last thing I remember was the green light that came out from the bottom of the ship. And I can tell you from the way people fled toward the exits, they felt the same thing I did: terror. Mind-numbing terror.
CHAPTER 16
“Sir, we have a situation,” the lieutenant said with a start. He had almost begun to get used to the invisible ship orbiting around Venus. He wasn’t necessarily comfortable with that fact but he had, like everybody else in the rock, sort of imbedded it into his everyday life.
“What is it, Lieutenant—has the ship rematerialized?” The captain dreaded that occurrence above all, there would be rioting in the streets. Not only would they have to contend with the visitors but also a scared populace.
“No, sir. Three smaller ships have left the main ship and are heading this way.”
“Lieutenant, get me the President,” the captain said, visibly shaken. “Lieutenant, what’s the ETA?”
“Sir, at their present speed, less than two hours.”
“Yes, Mr. President, we have just confirmed three alien vessels have departed the main ship.”
(Pause)
“Sir, yes, sir. We estimate their size to be roughly that of one of our aircraft carriers.”
(Pause)
“No, sir. We still have heard nothing from them.”
(Pause)
“Yes, sir. I will scramble all available fighters.”
(Pause)
“Sir, I will notify all the governments around the world but they are watching the same Hubble feed we are, so I would imagine they are taking their own steps to avert this tragedy.”
(Pause)
“Yes, sir. I will notify you the moment anything changes.”
CHAPTER 17 – Journal Entry 14
My cell, that sounds so weird. “My cell,” I said aloud. I’d never broken a big enough law in my life to warrant a cell. (Well I had, I had just never been caught.) What was I doing in a cell? Did I get caught with illegal drugs at the concert? No, I would’ve remembered that. Wait a second, this didn’t look like a cell a town like Morrison would have. Then it hit with the full force of a cascading waterfall—this wasn’t Kansas anymore. I was on some sort of ship, and not only that, I was being held prisoner on said ship. My cell was about ten feet by ten feet by ten feet. Aliens, that sounds even more ridiculous than my being in a cell. I was convinced they were aliens because all of the conspiracy theorists in the world couldn’t have thought the government was capable of making the ship that hovered over Red Rocks. Oh my God, I thought to myself. Red Rocks, the concert, Beth!
“Beth, where are you?” I screamed vainly. The only articles breaking up the monotony in this cell were a chair and a hole in the floor, which I imagined was for trash by the smell of it. The bus depot had nothing over this place. The front of the holding pen had no visible door but appeared to be made out of some clear sort of glass but I can attest to the fact that this “glass” was solid. I kicked it as hard as I could. I thought I had shattered the lower part of my leg. The gate didn’t even shudder, so much for getting some satisfaction out of breaking something.
“Do not do that again, hu-man.”
I pissed myself—no, I’m not just saying that I was so scared I peed, I literally let my bladder explode all over the front of my jeans. What stood before me was something straight out of a horror movie. If this were a movie, I would have changed the channel a long time ago. Whatever this thing was, it had developed along the reptilian line of its species and to me it looked mostly like the crocodile side of that family. This beast looked to be at least two feet taller than myself. It had an elongated snout with a bulbous end. It had no ears that I could see but what appeared to be ear holes on either side of its head. Its skin did not have the green, brownish tinge I would have expected from a reptile. It had more of a reddish glow to it, more on the shade of Red Rocks, but the skin texture looked to be more like our own native crocs. But I had never actually had any desire to touch a crocodile before and I definitely had no desire to touch whatever the hell that thing was. Its bulk was impressive, in addition to its two feet of height advantage, it also outweighed me by two to three hundred pounds and this thing reeked of power and menace and intelligence. Its eyes, by far, were the scariest part of this creature feature. They were cold and flat, with a crescent-shaped pupils. But it was the way it stared at me. For all it was concerned, I could have been its lunch.
Oh please, don’t let that be the case. Is this its refrigerator? Is this where it keeps its food fresh until it’s ready to eat? Beth, where are you?
“Ssit down and shhut up, hu-man!” it boomed.
Well, I thought to myself wryly, English must not be its first language. But I understood it enough to do as I was told. Thankfully, it moved on. Well, so much for the Steven Spielberg ET type of alien. I think Ridley Scott got a lot closer to the truth. Once the creature passed, the relief that flooded through me was near palpable. And then I started to hear voices. Oh great, not only was I stuck in a cell with alien creatures I’m also going insane. Wait, maybe I’m already insane and this is the outcome of that insanity. That would be far more agreeable than the truth.
“Pssst. Buddy.”
“What and who the hell is that?” Boy, I’ll tell you insanity isn’t a fun thing.
“Hey, number 1988!”
“What are you talking about!?” I half yelled.
“Look above your head. That’s your number, or should I say ranking.”
“Who are you?” I asked.
“I’m number 1987,” the mystery voice answered back. “I’m your next door neighbor.”
“Oh, thank God. I thought I was alone on this thing.”
“Quiet down. If you yell too loud those things will come back.”
“Do you know what’s going on? Are we lunch?” I asked, almost hoping he didn’t have an answer. Ignorance can be bliss.
“I’ve got an idea, but you might actually like your lunch theory a lit
tle better.”
“Do you have any information?”
“Word through the cell-vine is that us men folk are going to be used in a gladiator type spectacle. We are going to be the Progerians’ entertainment and then lunch.”
“We have to fight th-th-those things?” I asked incredulously.
“No, it’s much worse than that.”
“Worse than that?”
“We’re battling each other.”
“Who—me and you?”
“No-no, from what I can gather that number on the ceiling is sort of a preliminary ranking, think of the NHL playoffs where the number 1 plays the number 8 seed, but in this case it’s number 1988 versus 2212 to the death.”
“Oh, God,” I moaned. The fear was crippling. “When does this happen.”
“I think it already started,” he replied.
“Who are you? I’d at least like to know your name before I die.”
“My name is Bud Adams,” he intoned. I had been hoping for some words of encouragement from him. Maybe something in the order of, ‘you have a chance’ or ‘you’re not dead yet.’ Something that would give me some sense of hope no matter how false. Apparently, he had resigned himself to his imminent fate and had no desire to comfort another human being in distress. Misery loves company. I guess the aliens had good reason to put me this low in the rankings. At five-foot nine and a hundred sixty-five pounds, I really didn’t cut an imposing figure. Well, at least my first opponent, ranking wise, was more pathetic than me. More questions, worries and concerns ran through my head than was even remotely comprehensible, but it didn’t take long until all of my questions were answered. One moment, my cell front was there, the next moment it simply vanished—was it ever really there? I stepped out of my cell before it had the chance to reappear and I got my first real look at the vessel I was on. It was enormous. I was able to see hundreds of cells in each direction before the curve in the ship hindered my view. I turned to look at Bud Adams to see if he had possibly been freed. He had been, but he was nowhere in sight. Do I make a run for it? Where would I go? Do I take my chance with the guard—who am I kidding? So I did nothing, I just stood there like a knot in a piece of wood. An opaque doorway from the other side of the corridor opened up to reveal where my guard or one that looked very similar to him had gone. So now I knew the holding cells were on an outer ring of the ship and the crews’ quarters or duty stations were on the inside. But a lot of good that did me; knowledge didn’t feel very powerful at the moment. The guard stepped out from the doorway and motioned for me to follow the indicator lights around the ship. He kept a safe distance from me. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought he was more disgusted by my appearance than I was of his. I had a fleeting thought to turn and charge it, but I didn’t know if he was armed. By the look of him my charge would be no more effectual than hitting a bear with a fly swatter. So I did what was expected of me, I followed the lights for what seemed like a mile. All of the cells I passed were empty. Apparently, some of these poor souls had met their fate already. I felt like a lamb being led to the slaughter. After passing the cell marked with the number 1, the corridor opened up into a huge amphitheater. It was filled to standing room only with these creatures, although from where I stood there appeared to be two types of animal/things. There were the reddish ones I had already met and there were smaller ones with a slightly brownish tinge to them and a shorter snout. And from the looks of things they were the real ones in control here because they had all the seats closest to the coliseum floor. The guard forcibly pushed me into a booth on my right I had not even seen when I approached the theater.
“Ssit down and shhut up, hu-man,” it snarled.
“You need to learn some new words!” I spat. I figured if I was going to die I might as well get a last jab in. I didn’t think he had any clue what I said; he shut the door to the booth and left.
“Sit down, hu-man,” a voice boomed from the top of the booth in what appeared to be an alien version of a speaker. “Your briefing will begin now.”
This did very little to calm my nerves, if anything it only made me more nervous to hear the alien voice through a speaker made it sound that much more inhuman. I felt like a rat in a cage, a very small cage.
“You are here, hu-man—” That snapped me back to reality—“in a competition like no other. Should you become the champion of these games you will win the prize which your kind cherishes the most.” The first thought that came to my mind was women. I’m sorry, I was a seventeen year-old college student. “Freedom!” the voice boomed. Well, that was my second choice. “You will compete to the death, whether it is yours or your opponents.” The voice might as well have been talking about last night’s soccer score for all the inflection and feeling it put into those words. I yelled at the speaker to demand what had happened to Beth, but my fears were not quelled; Apparently, this was a one way speaker and more than likely it was ‘canned’. I don’t think these aliens wanted anything more to do with us than to watch us die. “The winner will be rewarded handsomely, the losers will be dead.” Crap, I thought to myself, the voice didn’t use plurals. There is only going to be one winner, out of what my mind figured were a possible four thousand or so contestants. I resigned myself to my fate, how could I possibly come out on the top of this? I was a self-proclaimed lover, not a fighter. And I wasn’t even sure how good a lover I was and I had some practice in that field. The last fight I was in, I was eight and I got my ass kicked by a girl. I know that’s pretty humiliating, I got my ass kicked by an eight year-old girl who had a crush on me. All I wanted to do was play baseball with my friends, so she threw me down on the ground and punched me in the eye. I of course told my friends I was jumped by Jimmy Johnson’s gang of friends and that was how I got my shiner. Nobody ever tells anybody they got beat up by a girl. “Each battle—” whoa, back to reality or at least this skewed version of it—“will be a one-on-one competition to the death. The only other rule is you are permitted to use only one weapon at a time. And do not be fooled, hu-man, if you or your competitor do not abide by these rules at all times you will both be dead. If both of you do not fight, you both will be dead. Look to your right and my point will be proven.” So I did just that, off to the right I spotted what appeared to be the variety of species that my guard was, there were four of them holding what appeared to be rifles, but I was under the impression it wouldn’t be lead coming out of that long barrel. How would it feel to be shot by plasma or whatever it was? Well, I guess it would be the same as being shot by lead—dead. And that thought sent chills right up my spine. I knew in the back of my head everybody dies, but to know I was mere moments from it made me think of what wrongly convicted death row inmates must feel. Terror. Pure, unadulterated terror. “Your first test will begin momentarily. You will be given one minute to prepare yourself in whatever way you wish.”
“Wait!” I wailed. “A minute’s not enough—I don’t want to die. Mom!!!”
The door opened and the festivities began. The terrain was moving—well not quite moving, it was shifting, changing—that’s it—it was changing from the grated ship floor into what appeared to be small scrub. No, they were definitely getting bigger, it was becoming a forest. Not a particularly dense forest; it actually reminded me a lot of the woods surrounding the Boulder area—oh to have been back at school cracking a kegger. Could this all have been a bad trip—please? How could this not have been a trip gone bad? I was being held on an alien ship, preparing to fight for my life on a platform terraforming in front of me? My legs were like wood. They were so stiff. I felt like I was in one of those dreams where a monster is chasing you and you can’t run, although there was nothing dream-like about this. My very existence depended on my being able to move and defend myself. In contrast my arms felt like jelly; I couldn’t possibly think to wield a weapon with them feeling like this. Weapons, that was what I was focusing on. There appeared to be weapons of varying sorts lined against the bottom wall of the coliseum,
bows and arrows, swords, spears, knives, maces, unfortunately, no plasma discharging weapons because I’d really like to take out a couple of those crocodile-looking things. But there was no weapon quite advanced enough to make escape plausible. Who was I kidding? Where was I going to go? I didn’t even like to ride amusement park rides. Did I really think I’d get far enough to grab a shuttle ship and pilot my way back home? No, my only chance was victory. The crowd had finally become silent as they waited in anticipation of the ensuing battle. While all of these thoughts were running through my head, I watched as my opponent was forcibly removed from his holding pen and thrust into the arena on the opposite side. The guy looked more scared than I was. He was more than a hundred yards away and I could see him shaking from here. I’m not an intimidating fellow but this guy was pathetic, he looked to be about fifty-five, five-foot five or six, maybe one hundred thirty pounds soaking wet. I think he was one of the security guards at the gate at Red Rocks. If it was the same man, he also had a nervous tick on the right side of his face. The seating was almost a replica of Invesco Stadium, they even had a huge screen on either end of the arena. It was how I was able to tell my opponent was more petrified than I was. His eyes were all pupil, in the fight or flight scheme of things this guy was a jack rabbit looking for a place to run. I could see him begging the guards not to leave him there and then I could hear him yelling in my direction to please not kill him. I wanted to tell him I had not so much as killed an insect on purpose. But my gestures scared him even more because he shrank back against the wall. It was then that he grabbed a spear. So apparently, this jackrabbit could bite. What am I doing? Get moving, I thought, or this pathetic old man is going to kill you and if he does I would never be able to make the ones responsible for this pay. He was still crying for alien mercy or possibly mine, but he was advancing and he had a weapon. My heart felt like it was in my throat. I had the distinct impression I was going to choke to death long before he was able to get to my side of the battlefield. As he stepped forward I backed up and in all my glory I tripped on a root and banged my head against a tree. I tripped on a tree root on a space ship. This was going to be real difficult to grasp the reality of.