by Isaiah Lee
A loud screech sounded as Amy’s body faced the camera. “Three thousand warships from the planet Qspol have been dispatched. They will be upon this measly planet within three days. We have weapons like your primitive race have never imagined. Surrender now and the warships will be called off, after our ship has been repaired.”
Whi whi. Whi. Whi whi whi. More screams from off camera. New sets of sirens. Gunfire rang out from outside the building as SWAT units began pouring onto the street and heading for the building. They were armed for war.
“I am a prince on my home world,” Yikaslmer began again. “If I die here today, your entire race will be exterminated. Surrender and cease fire. Now.”
Amy Yun’s body split in half. A sickening crunch resounded in the studio as flesh and bones shredded and splattered to the floor. Blood sprayed the camera lens as the alien, now known as Prince Yikaslmer Perqindtru, emerged from within. Its pinkish-grey skin glistened in the fluorescent white lights with congealed blood.
More sounds in its native tongue echoed through Jason’s TV speakers. He saw two men appear in the background of the picture and, like with Amy, their faces deepened to a sickly color. Two more of the alien creatures emerged from the men with the bodies splattering to the floor. They retrieved the small blood-red weapons and took position on either side of Yikaslmer.
The reality was that Yikaslmer and his three body-guards had been inbound to another Qspolian-controlled planet on the opposite side of the Milky Way Galaxy. A rogue asteroid – or some other form of space debris – struck their ship and disrupted the piloting mechanism. Earth happened to be the closest planet with intelligent life. Earthlings might have the technology to repair the damaged ship.
The Qspolian home world had been informed of the crash-landing and the hostile nature of the dominant hominid species inhabiting the planet. Upon Yikaslmer’s request, an invasion force would be dispatched if their leader either 1) was not heard from within a certain, predetermined amount of time or 2) was murdered or otherwise maltreated while on the inferior planet and the others lived to tell about it.
Yikaslmer’s small, slimy body moved closer to the camera. It was very close to its face now. “One hour. You have one hour to surrender, primitive humans. If not, the war ships will not be called off.” These humans did not have to be informed that the warships were not yet technically inbound.
Chapter 11
The president of the United States received a call filling him in on the situation in New York. Three aliens had taken over Channel 18’s news studio and killed an unknown number of innocent people. They were claiming to be peaceful, so long as the human race surrendered to their will.
SWAT was holding position outside the building in New York until there were further orders. There was no time to contact advisors. There was no time to contact international allies and fabricate a plan. James Neil, the forty-fifth president of the United States, had less than thirty minutes to surrender the entire human race to alien invaders or sign death certificates for millions, possibly billions, of people. The way he saw it, there was no good choice. If he surrendered, was he simply opening them up to further potential harm?
He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled loudly. “Damn…” He picked up the handset of his personal office phone and dialed his wife. “Baby…” he began.
“What’s going on James?” she asked. She always knew his tone when something was wrong.
He didn’t have time to beat around the bush. To the point. “This is no joke. The viral videos of Shepherd Park in New York where they’re claiming an alien ship…”
Susan Neil sighed. “It’s real, isn’t it James?” She couldn’t help but worry the first time the videos came to her attention.
“I’m so sorry. I wish I could tell you it was an elaborate hoax, but no. It is real. There are three of these creatures killing people in a news studio right now, live on TV, saying that if I don’t surrender the human race to their will that they will exterminate the entire race. What if…”
A single tear escaped Susan’s face, but she kept her composure, if only for her husband’s sake. She was thankful that he couldn’t see the terrified expression that masked her face. “You know what you need to do, James.”
“I know, Baby. I needed you to know why I made my decision before you heard all of this from someone else. You know how news travels around this place.”
“It isn’t really a choice and you know it. Surrender to their will now, potentially saves millions of lives down the road. Sacrifice a few to save the lot.”
Now it was James who shed a tear. “I love you, baby. You know that. I am not sure what is going to happen next. Tell the girls I love them.”
“James, they know you love them. Now go. Go. Handle this now so that the girls will have a future to look forward to. I love you, James.” She couldn’t hold her composure any longer. She lay the phone down on the receiver and ended the call before James could hear her break down.
The line went dead. President Neil eased the phone back onto the receiver and exhaled loudly. He pulled a number from his pocket and dialed the direct line to his contact in New York.
“Mr. President,” the voice answered.
“Tell them we surrender.”
Chapter 12
With four minutes to go, Sergeant O’Reilly headed up the staircase to the third floor. For the man to have been built like a brick shit-house, he moved quickly and efficiently, taking two steps at a time. He reached the third floor landing and called out before he opened the door. “I’m here. Ambassador for the human race.”
There was no reply as he peaked through the narrow glass in the steel door. He half worried that one of the creatures would kill him through the space in the doorway. He saw nothing, which he couldn’t decide how he should feel about, and opened the door. He knew not to run but instead walked hastily to the studio while calling out his presence.
In the distance, several different pitches communicated in that alien tongue. It was unlike anything O’Reilly had ever heard before. The creatures came into view and he called out again. “I am Sergeant O’Reilly. I have been elected ambassador. The President of the United States wishes to extend his hospitality. The human race surrenders to you.”
His heart pounded wildly in his chest, filling his senses. He could focus on nothing but his own nervousness. Veins in his neck bulged and pulsed wildly. He served two tours, one in Afghanistan and one in Iraq, before taking his current position in SWAT. He had never been this nervous before in his life, even with enemy fire raining down on him from all directions in the middle of a firefight.
Finally, the lead creature spoke. “I am Prince Yikaslmer Perqindtru of the planet Qspol in the Yurinav System.”
O’Reilly stared at the creature in awe at its voice. It was the strangest thing he had ever heard before. He snapped out of it and focused on the words resonating in his head.
“The humans of Earth have surrendered to Qspol. Many lives will be spared. We only require enough nourishment to survive until our ship is repaired.”
O’Reilly was impressed at the language skills of the creature. He waited for a second before answering. “Of course,” he thought for the right words. “Your Grace. What do you require?”
“Six humans daily for each of us.” A slimy arm extended toward his companions. “We must eat well to regain our full strength.” It thought for a moment. These hominids were typically not as well-nourished as the specimen standing in front of it. “Maybe ten humans per day, per Qspolian.”
O’Reilly froze. Had President Neil given permission for human sacrifice? “Uh… Of course, your Grace.” Where was he going to get bodies? Could they raid a local morgue? What would be a source of sustenance for these creatures without offering up innocents as meals? His mind reeled with ideas.
Yikaslmer opened its mouth, exposing three rows of razor-sharp teeth arranged in spirals from front to back. “You are first.”
The other two creat
ures’ mouths opened in unison. One screeched, an ear-splitting sound. Deep-green saliva dribbled from the mouth of the other. The floor began to smoke as the liquid splashed onto it.
O’Reilly shuttered. No chance was he offering himself as a meal. “I have squads of men standing outside right now who I would be happy to send up here. Let me…” He reached for his walkie-talkie.
Yikaslmer moved inches away from O’Reilly in the blink of an eye. Damn, that fucker’s fast! He couldn’t believe the speed of these creatures. This wasn’t even at full strength.
O’Reilly instinctively palmed his sidearm.
Yikaslmer opened its mouth wide and emitted a screech. O’Reilly pulled his sidearm from its holster and fired a single shot into the creature’s throat. The bullet exploded from the back of the alien’s head. It crumpled to a mass of tentacles and grey matter. The other two creatures bolted toward O’Reilly. He fired twice at the nearest creature, dropping it.
The third creature was upon him then. He jerked right. The creature caught his left arm in its mouth and took it off in one bite. The creature spun, as did O’Reilly, and moved in for another lunge. O’Reilly stood in shock, staring at the nub that had been his arm. Blood squirted from the wound and sprayed around the room. He already began to feel weak from the blood loss.
The creature screeched again. O’Reilly shot twice more, the first bullet hitting its mark. The second went wide, but it didn’t matter. The alien’s head exploded moments before it latched onto his right arm. The razor-like teeth sliced his arm, exposing bone. Within minutes, O’Reilly fell into a pool of his own blood, unable to rise and soon to bleed out.
◆◆◆
Much of the world had come to a standstill in that moment. Jaws dropped across the planet as people were flabbergasted by what they had just witnessed. Had O’Reilly really just doomed the entire human race?
Within the hour that the alien’s broadcast had begun, news outlets and social media all over the world had run with the breaking news story. Aliens had invaded and were making terms for humankind to surrender. The President of the United States surrendered. Humanity’s only chance of survival was to meet the demands of an alien prince from another planet.
Then the world watched as Sergeant Isaiah O’Reilly singlehandedly destroyed the human race. The greed and cowardice of one man doomed potentially billions of people. Three thousand interplanetary war ships were supposedly inbound on Earth at that very moment.
Chapter 13
Jason was in shock. Had he really just seen what he thought he had? Had that dumb shit on the TV really just doomed all of humanity? Surely this was a hoax playing off the videos he and Hank had taken. Surely it was all just a misunderstanding.
He couldn’t get to sleep that night. He lay in bed thinking. What if he and Hank hadn’t been nosy? What might have happened if Hank didn’t share the videos?
He tried not to blame himself. He wanted to avenge Stacy and Johnny. He had no idea that there were aliens in Shepherd Park. By the time they got to the park, the aliens had obviously already taken over the bodies of three people. They buried the ship. It wouldn’t be a stretch of the imagination to say that they were up to something nefarious.
At a little past four in the morning, Jason’s phone began to ring. Hank. “Hello?” he answered groggily.
“Dude, I’m freaking the fuck out!” Hank nearly screamed. “I don’t know what to do. Is all of this our fault?”
Hank was feeling the same remorse Jason was. Good. Or, maybe, not good? “I’ve been thinking about this all night.” He explained his logic about the aliens and that maybe them finding the ship and publicizing it had been the right move in the long run. “And anyway, it wasn’t either of us who shot the damned aliens on live TV!”
Hank thought about this for a second. He heard movement outside his bedroom door and remained silent. Either his brother or sister-in-law was up and moving about. Hank hadn’t explained why he needed to come stay with them, only that it was important. Would either of them understand that it wasn’t really his fault the world might end?
He whispered into the phone. “Dude, I don’t know what to do.” He was obviously on the verge of tears. Jason could hear it in his voice.
Jason agreed. “Me either. I’m driving myself fucking crazy just sittin’ around here tonight. I need something to do.” He couldn’t quite motivate himself to play video games, watch TV, or anything else that may keep his mind from wandering.
“What is something on your bucket list?”
“Bucket list?”
“Yeah, bucket list.”
Jason thought about this. He had never before thought of what he’d like to do before he died. Especially now, this seemed like such a strange thing to be focusing on. Given the potential fate of the world, was it such a strange thing, after all? “I’ll get back to you when it’s daylight out.” He lay back on his bed and closed his eyes.
“Tomorrow, dude. Tomorrow we have to get our bucket lists out of the way. We don’t know how many more days we might have.”
Jason opened his mouth to say something. Hank interrupted before he could speak. “Don’t lie and tell me you think it will all be fine and that this will blow over. Three thousand war ships don’t just blow over. I’m coming home tomorrow. I’ll pick you up sometime in the morning.”
◆◆◆
Apparently other bucket lists consisted of killing people, robbing banks, and generally causing mayhem. By that next morning – after managing to get a measly three hours of sleep – it seemed the world had gone to shit. Gangs were running rampant, openly killing rivals in the streets. Thousands of banks had been robbed, some multiple times. It was a free-for-all.
Mexico City was in ruins. Drug cartels had launched a full-on assault, taking out police presence and gunning down any innocents in the way. They then began throwing Molotov cocktails into business windows. Hundreds of stores blazed until there was nothing more than smoldering embers and steel frameworks.
Other criminals looted anything they could carry. Jewelry and electronic stores were priority. Jason saw a video on his phone of a woman who lived in a third floor apartment across the street from an electronics store in Mexico City. She started recording as the chaos began when a group of four masked men drove a van through the front door of the establishment. Innocent patrons of the store ran out through the debris and gunfire began. Only a handful escape unscathed. Dozens more fell to the automatic weapons.
The group then began loading the van as full as they could with new-in-box items such as phones, tablets, television sets, and gaming consoles. There was commentary, complete with gasps and cries when people were killed, but Jason couldn’t understand anything in Spanish. The tone told him what he could not have understood otherwise.
Two of the masked men began climbing into the back of the van as a black sedan came into frame. An arm hung out the passenger window with a compact sub-machine gun and sprayed a hail of bullets into the van. The remaining masked men dove for cover; one of the men tumbled into a heap after having the top of his head torn off by gunfire.
The other leaned over a parked car and returned fire. He clipped one of his assailants, but it proved just a flesh wound as the man let loose another spray of bullets. Several found their mark as the masked man slammed to the pavement.
One of the men from the sedan slammed the cargo doors shut on the van, jumped in the driver’s seat, and tore down the street. The other man followed closely in the sedan. His weapon was visible across his lap as he drove away.
According to suggested video titles, other cities were faring the same way. Jason scrolled through the list. Riots had broken out in Chicago. Total anarchy in Moscow.
Jason shook his head. He had no faith left in humanity. If they couldn’t band together now, what would happen if the alien forces really did come in two more days?
He rolled over in bed and faced the ceiling. He held his phone above his head and stared at the screen. It was 8:13. Hank
would be over at some point to head wherever they were going. He guessed he’d better get up and get ready.
He turned the shower on and let the water warm as he scrolled through his music. He pulled the shower curtain so that the water couldn’t splash his screen or in his speaker. What he listened to was always based on his mood. Right now, his mood called for some screaming vocals from his favorite rock band. He turned the volume all the way up – he should have sprung for that bad-ass surround system a few weeks back when it was on sale after Christmas – and lay the phone in the window sill.
He tried to clear his mind, while attempting to not let it bother him about the riots in Chicago. Even though they weren’t on good terms, he still loved his parents. His parents moved to Chicago right after he graduated high school. His father got a job offer that he couldn’t turn down. They offered to help Jason move, too. They even offered to let him live with them until he could get established. He wondered now if that wouldn’t have been the smarter move.
Jason had refused. Now he couldn’t help but worry. He prayed they weren’t involved in any of the riots, in any of the gang-related killings. He thought about calling them, but figured they probably weren’t out of bed yet. He sent his father’s phone a quick text as they pulled in the parking lot. The sign above the dilapidated storefront read “Guns ‘N’ More”.
Jason wanted no part of the chaos. He had never desired to hurt anyone, but he had also never fired a gun. He and Hank made their first stop of the day a local indoor gun range.
“What can I help you boys with,” the elderly man said in greeting. News outlets were already filled with stories of shootings and chaos from around the world. The man – whose nametag read Bob – palmed a .45 caliber handgun under the counter. He was prepared for any potential nonsense from these two.