by TJ Klune
Nate stared at the radio. He was startled when the old man dropped a couple of maps on the counter. “You’ll have to forgive me,” he said, reaching over and switching off the radio, cutting off the announcer mid-squawk. “Sometimes I like listening to him. Steven Cooper. He’s a crackpot and he talks trash, but it’s good trash, you know? Conspiracies and such. I don’t believe a single word he says, but he’s entertaining.”
“Yeah,” Nate managed to say. “I… I’ve never heard of him.”
The old man chuckled. “I’m not surprised. He’s got his own radio show talking spooks and how the Ruskies killed JFK and he’s got proof, but he never seems to share it. Now that that comet’s on its way, he’s all up in a tizzy about it. Thinks it’s a sign. Had this guy who claimed to be an astronomer a couple of days ago. Says a goddamn UFO is flying in the tail of it.” He glanced down at Art. “Pardon my language, miss. Don’t you be repeating that word now, you hear?”
Art nodded. “Oh, I would never. UFO, you say? How fascinating. You don’t believe in them?”
The old man shook his head. “I’ve seen some things, sure. But little green men? Why, I think it’s all flights of fancy. I mean, if such things existed, why would they come here of all places?”
“To help,” Art said seriously. “Maybe this place is like the bright beacon in a vast, dark space. Maybe they see the potential of us, but also how easily we could be lost. It’s a fine balance, don’t you think? The line between love and fire is very thin.”
The old man’s brow furrowed. “I suppose. Aren’t you a little young to be thinking about such things, though? Little girl like you should be playing with dolls, not thinking about flying saucers.”
“I have unique and varied tastes,” Art told him, picking up one of the maps off the counter. “I can like dolls and study UFOs at the same time. Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I’m not capable of deciding what my interests should be.”
“Right,” the old man said slowly. “Meant no offense, of course. Your daddy here can decide that better than I ever could.”
“He’s not my daddy,” Art said, opening the map with her little hands. “My daddy’s in the truck. This is my daddy’s special—”
“How much for the map?” Nate asked quickly, hoping it’d be enough to distract them both.
“Tell you what,” the old man said. “Consider it a gift from me to you. Little girl is smart. Smarter than I could ever possibly be. Seems wrong to charge you for something so little as a map when it’s going to lead you on an adventure.”
“Thank you,” Nate said, stepping behind Art and reaching over her, trying to gather up the map.
“Nate,” she scolded him, tilting her head back to look up at him. “I can do it.”
“Fine,” Nate said with a sigh. “We gotta get on the road, though, okay? Your dad is going to get worried if we don’t get back.”
“Protective, is he?” the old man asked.
“You have no idea,” Art told him. “One time, a man tried to take me from him, and my daddy took his gun and—”
“That’s probably enough,” Nate said, putting his hands on Art’s shoulders, steering her away from the counter, the map jumbled in her hands. “Don’t need to share everything with strangers. We’ve talked about that.”
“But everyone is a stranger unless you talk to them! How do you expect to get anywhere if you don’t—”
“She reads a lot,” Nate said hastily over his shoulder. The old man was staring after them. “All those books. Gets ideas in her head that she should probably keep to herself.”
“Nate, you’re tearing the map! Be careful, it was a gift from that nice man who doesn’t believe in aliens but still listens to crazy people talk about them!”
The bell rang overhead as they went out the door.
Alex sat up in his seat, watching them through the windshield.
“Well,” Art said, folding the map expertly. “That certainly was an adventure, don’t you think?”
Somehow she managed to find Steven Cooper on the radio in the truck.
Nate gave serious consideration to opening the door and leaping out onto the highway. He’d seen enough movies to know that as long as he tucked and rolled, he’d probably only end up with a few broken bones.
“…and this, friends, this is what they don’t want you to know. That they already have extraterrestrial technology incorporated into our warships and our aircrafts. Think about it. In the last century, we made more leaps and bounds in technology than we have in the history of humanity, and we’re just supposed to believe it was natural? That it came from the human mind? Poppycock. We were shown how to fly. We were shown how to split atoms. Why, even now, there are military installations that have laser beams that can shoot thousands of miles. Do you really think that we did this all on our own? That’s bull. And that, of course, leads to the question of why. Friends, I’ll tell you why. It was to prepare us. Because one day, the truth is going to come out, and it will be brought into the light kicking and screaming. There will be nothing to stop it. We are going to know the truth of all things. The truth, of course, being that we were being prepared. There are messages hidden in lines of code. To make us subservient. To make us zombies.”
“I love him so much,” Art breathed.
“Jesus Christ,” Alex muttered.
“I mean, he’s obviously wrong about everything,” Art said to no one in particular, gaze fixed avidly on the radio. “No one showed humans how to do anything. You all figured that out all on your own. Which, by the way, good job. Well. Mostly. You guys seem to care more about blowing stuff up than curing diseases. That’s kind of backward, but then who am I to judge. And there’s no ship in the comet’s tail. Do you know what they’re made up of? I mean, the very idea is ludicrous. And even if it wasn’t, it wouldn’t help space travel. If anything, it would hinder it. Can you believe this guy? He’s amazing, but honestly.”
Nate didn’t know what to say to that.
“…and let’s talk more about Markham-Tripp. You see it, friends. It’s visible now to the naked eye. It’s called the event of the century. That we won’t see something like this again in our lifetime. But why was this just discovered last year? Shouldn’t NASA have been able to spot this a long time ago? They have enough satellites in the sky. Well, the satellites that haven’t yet been sold off to the shadow government and used to spy on its people. You know all about that in the sixteen-part series we did last fall. But Hubble should have been able to see this coming years ago. Why is it that a man named Markham and a man named Tripp were the only two able to find this? Of course, that’s what we’re being told, right? Tell me, friends. Just who are Markham and Tripp? Why have they never been photographed? Why have they never been seen on TV? They’ve been interviewed in a few papers, but gosh, friends, do you know how easy it would be to fake that? All it’d take is a couple of yes-men under orders to act like they were amateurs with their little telescopes in their backyards surrounded by white picket fences and two-point-five children and they were able pretend to find something that even the biggest observatories in the world weren’t able to see. You know what I say to something like that, friends. If it sounds like a pig taking a bath, it’s hogwash.”
Art laughed gleefully, clapping her hands.
“They’re coming, friends,” Steven Cooper said. “They’re coming, and there is nothing we can do to stop it.”
There were several campgrounds listed on the map for the Badlands. They decided on Sage Creek, as it seemed the most remote. It took them only a few hours to reach the entrance, where they paid the fee to a bored-looking kid with acne scars sitting in a ramshackle wooden booth. He’d welcomed them to Sage Creek with barely restrained disdain, telling them there was no running water and the bathrooms were pit toilets clearly marked and to enjoy their stay. Art looked pleased. Even Alex seemed okay with it.
Nate was stuck on pit toilet.
The
campground itself was flat and barely marked. In the distance, they could see rocky hills rising against the horizon. Alex pulled the truck as far into the campground as he could, picking a spot away from the handful of other campers already set up with small tents and portable grills.
Art practically climbed over Nate to get out of the truck, demanding that Alex show her what a pit toilet was because she needed to pee. She corrected herself then, saying she didn’t really need to pee, but she was trying to force herself to go so she could see the pit toilet.
They left Nate sitting in the truck, reeling.
He watched them through the windshield as they headed toward a lean-to made of rope and wood that looked as if it would fall over with the slightest of breezes. Art’s nose wrinkled as they got closer, and he choked out a laugh at the look of horror on her face. Alex said something to her, and she grabbed his hand, trying to tug him back toward the truck.
They were being chased by men in helicopters with guns.
The little girl was from another planet.
They didn’t know where they were going.
He didn’t know what would happen when all was said and done.
If he would even have a life to go back to.
And yet somehow, Nate felt more at peace than he had in a long time. He watched as Art dug her feet into the earth, trying to stop Alex from pulling her toward the pit toilet. And Alex was laughing. He had a small smile on his face and crinkles around his eyes. His teeth were flashing, and he was laughing. Nate’s breath was knocked from his chest at the sight.
Yes, they were on the run.
Yes, they didn’t know what tomorrow would bring.
But here, now, in this moment, Nate was almost… happy.
He got out of the truck.
“Alex! Alex. I changed my mind! I don’t want to see the pit toilet. Alex, let me go!”
“Oh no,” Alex said, and Nate could hear the laughter in his voice. “You wanted to see it, I’m going to show it to you. Trust me when I say it’s not the worst thing in the world. It could be a hundred degrees in the desert and it’s your job to dig the shit hole for everyone else.”
“Great! Good for you! I don’t want to hear your war stories, what the heck! Nate. Nate. Help me! Save me!”
“Yeah,” Nate said, leaning against the front of the truck. “I think I’m going to stay right here, thank you very much.”
“I’ve been betrayed,” Art gasped, suddenly boneless as she flopped toward the ground. Alex’s grip on her arm was good enough that she didn’t fall. Instead, her feet dragged through the grass.
“Oh, we’ll get him over here,” Alex promised her, glancing back at Nate, eyes bright. “Trust me on that. He’s going to have to poop at some point.”
Nate made a face. “I really wish you hadn’t said that out loud.”
Alex’s smile widened.
He didn’t pull her all the way over. She was gagging dramatically, clinging to his leg and demanding that he carry her because her body no longer worked thanks to the stench. Nate had to swallow past the lump in his throat when Alex did exactly as she asked. He bent over, wrapped his big arms around her legs, and hoisted her up. She climbed him like a monkey, sneakers against his arms and chest until she managed to make her way around to his shoulders, her legs draped over his front. She put her hands in his short hair, tugging gently. “We need to go find dinosaurs.” She looked at Nate. “And yes, Nate, I know they aren’t real. Not anymore.”
“You coming?” Alex asked him, jerking his head toward a marked trail on the other side of the campground.
If this was happiness he felt, it was dangerous.
But Nate found himself not caring.
They had a fire built as the sun began to set. Alex managed to scrounge up a flat pan and opened three cans of soup, pouring them in before he held the pan over the fire. They were out of earshot of the nearest campers, a young couple who had waved from a distance but otherwise left them alone.
Art was in the back of the truck, spreading out their sleeping bags, already excited by the idea of camping under the stars. She babbled about the rocks she’d seen, the hills she’d climbed. She lamented over the lack of dinosaur bones, asking if she could use the power of her mind to bring some up from the earth. She’d had a wicked smile on her face when she said that last bit, glancing at Nate out of the corner of her eye. Nate knew she was trying to get a reaction out of him, but he kept his face blank.
She looked slightly disappointed but moved on, talking about how warm the sleeping bags would be and how she thought it was going to be more comfortable than the motel bed they’d had last night, which was the absolute worst.
Alex grunted in all the right spots, the good mood from earlier in the day faded slightly. He wasn’t back to his default scowling, which Nate was thankful for. Nate was almost… relaxed. His muscles were tired from their hike, but it was a good tired, almost down to his bones. His muscles felt stretched, his skin still warm from the sun. He’d probably be slightly pink tomorrow, but he’d worry about it then. The air was already cooling off considerably, and he’d found a coat in the truck. He thought it was Alex’s. He’d put it on anyway. Alex hadn’t said a word, but maybe his gaze had lingered just a little bit longer before going back to their dinner.
They sat huddled together on the tailgate of the truck when the soup was ready. Alex was in the middle holding the pan on his lap. They each had a plastic spoon and took turns digging in. Alex was a line of warmth down Nate’s side, their shoulders and arms brushing together.
They watched the sunset as they ate.
When they finished, they barely moved away after Alex put the pan down behind them.
“Would you look at that,” Art said dreamily as the last of the daylight fell away.
Nate looked up.
It wasn’t like in Oregon. Or Washington. Or even Montana. It certainly hadn’t ever been like this in DC. For the first time, Nate thought his eyes were open and he was actually seeing what was above him.
They were beneath a universe of stars, brighter than he’d ever seen before. They seemed to stretch on forever, more so than he could possibly comprehend. He’d never felt so small in his entire life.
“Wow,” he breathed. “That’s… wow.”
“Yeah,” Art said. “Isn’t it?”
Nate felt Alex’s hand brush against his own, but he didn’t look away from the sky above. It could have been an accident. Nothing more.
“They didn’t let me see… anything,” Art said suddenly. Nate felt Alex stiffen next to him, but they both kept quiet. “While I was in the Mountain. Not like this. I begged them. I pleaded with them. I promised to show them what they wanted. All I wanted to do was go outside and look toward the sky. But they said no. They thought… I don’t know what they thought. That maybe if I saw the stars, I could use them to communicate or something ridiculous like that. They didn’t understand that all I wanted was to look up and see what I could see. How different it would be to be staring at the stars from this side of the universe.”
Nate’s heart was thundering in his chest.
“Alex came, and I asked him to describe the sky for me. He… wasn’t very good at it at first. What did you say, Alex? When I asked you?”
Alex snorted. “I told you it all looked the same.”
“That’s right,” Art said, and Alex’s fingers touched Nate’s. “It all looked the same. And I laughed at you until I realized you were serious. That you actually thought that. I think… I think that was the first time I ever felt sadness. Like, actual, true sadness. I’d been scared. I’d been angry. But I’d never been sad. Not until then. Not until you. Do you remember what I told you?”
“You said that I needed to go outside and not come back until I looked at the sky again. Really looked at it.”
“And you did.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because it felt like th
e right thing to do.”
“And what did you see?”
Alex sighed. “That it was so much bigger than I ever thought it could be. That there was this… expanse to it. Something I’d never seen before.”
“You felt tiny.”
“Yes.”
“Like you were nothing but a speck of sand on a beach.”
“Yes.”
“It’s humbling to find that out,” Art said. “Even in grief. Especially in grief, I think. You taught me that. I didn’t understand it. Not before. And when you came back in, you described the night sky to me so well that I could see it. I could see it through your eyes, and it was like we were standing there side by side in the middle of nowhere, looking at the stars together. It was good. It was very good, Alex.”