After getting the gun from Brad, Melanie's first
concern was for Ralston. He'd lost a fare amount of blood
and wasn't moving. He explained that any movement at all
caused the broken bone to cut into the muscle. She was able
to stop the bleeding by applying several rags she found in
the kitchen, and by tightly wrapping the leg in a towel from
the bathroom. Ralston next explained how to apply a splint,
and cautioned her that he'd heard it was painful. Roger
helped as best he could, but in moving the leg, they caused
Ralston to passout.
Once they had splinted Ralston's leg, Melanie turned
her attention toward Brad. He was kneeling in a corner of
the kitchen, and had withdrawn from reality. She approached
him slowly and touched his forehead, but he didn't respond.
He remained in a fetal position, staring blankly into space.
Melanie returned to the den and fought back the desire
to scream. There was no phone in the cabin, Ralston needed
medical help, she couldn't leave Brad alone, and Roger was
not strong enough to help her carry either of the men. She
looked at Roger for an answer, but he was of no help.
A noise from behind her scared her from her thoughts,
and to her surprise, Brad walked into the den. He walked
past Melanie, past Roger, stepped over Ralston, and went
straight to the bag that held his clothes and gear. She
watched for several seconds as he rummaged through his
belongings, and finally removed his steno pad.
"Brad?"
He stood, without responding, flipping through his
notes. He tore a page from the book, handed it to Melanie,
then grabbed Ralston under the armpits. Melanie watched
Brad drag the man toward the door for several feet before
she grabbed his legs. Roger watched as they loaded Ralston
into the van, but could not leave the cabin as the sun was
still too bright.
Melanie ran back to the cabin and grabbed a blanket to
shield the alien's eyes. She explained that she did not
know what Brad was doing, but that they should go with him
and hope for the best. Brad had already started the engine
when Melanie and Roger made it to the truck, and he barely
waited until she closed the door before driving off.
She tried to get Brad to talk as he drove, but he
seemed totally oblivious to her presence. He drove as if he
were possessed by a demon; set upon one course and one
course alone. There was no way she could guess what Brad
was thinking, and she was not even sure that he was thinking
at all. He acted mechanically, following a plan that had
somehow formulated inside his depressed and withdrawn mind.
When they reached the city limits of Currant, Brad
pulled into a parking lot and stopped the van. He left the
engine running, stepped out of the driver's seat, and walked
to the back of the van where Ralston lay. He grabbed the
man's collar and shook hard.
"Brad!" protested Melanie, "Leave him alone."
"Come on Ralston." Brad's word's stunned Melanie so,
that she backed away from him. He slapped Ralston's cheeks
lightly several times until Ralston started to moan.
"Ralston... Hey, Don! Wake up!"
Ralston rolled his eyes and tried hard to focus.
"Where do I take the alien, Ralston? Do I take him to
Tonopah?"
"Too many people. Highway six," whispered Ralston, "Go
south, it makes a turn. Take the first hard surface road to
the right. A couple miles up, there's a radome on a hill.
We called it Site 7292, I had to check security there."
Brad moved to the side door on the van, and opened it.
"On that page is a phone number," he explained to Melanie,
"Call it and ask for Dandridge. Tell him to meet me at Site
7292."
Melanie looked at Brad suspiciously. "I've got a bad
feeling. I'm not getting out of this truck."
"You're getting out, and making that phone call, even
if I have to drag you out by your hair."
"You can't leave me," she protested.
"Get out, make the call. Once you've done that, call a
friend in Vegas and get them to pick you up."
"You can't leave me, damn you."
Brad grabbed Melanie's sweatshirt and pulled her toward
the door. She struggled violently, striking him several
times in the face. He grabbed one of her arms, and pinned
it against her back. With his free hand, he grabbed her
chin, and pulled her face to his. He pressed his lips
against hers and pulled her body close. She stopped
swinging her free arm long enough to wrap it around his neck
and return his embrace. Brad released her other hand, slid
his hands beneath the sweatshirt to caress her waist.
"Here I am, bleeding to death, and you two are making-
out. I liked it better when you were fighting," called
Ralston from the back of the van.
Melanie and Brad looked into each others eyes. "I'm
not leaving you."
"They don't know about you or Ralston; Asher wouldn't
have talked. Go back to Las Vegas. I'll drop Ralston at
the hospital."
"I'm staying with you until the end."
"This is the end," stated Brad, then he slapped Melanie
across the face with all the force he could muster. Before
she could recover from being hit, Brad forced her to the
asphalt, threw her purse outside, and slammed the van's
door. He immediately jumped behind the wheel and stomped
the gas pedal. Melanie tried to grab the door handle but
was too shaken from blow to reach it before Brad spead off.
Through the rearview mirror, he could see her screaming and
running after him.
He asked Roger to sit in the corner behind the driver's
seat and stack the blankets around him as they approached
the emergency room entrance. Brad peeked behind him to make
sure the alien was totally covered, then drove to the
mechanical doors. He stopped the truck and blew the horn
several times. When he ran to the back of the van, he was
glad to see an orderly and a nurse running to meet him.
Brad threw open the door and explained that they were
moving a refrigerator when it fell on his leg. The orderly
called to a second, who quickly wheeled a gurney to the van.
Brad help the three lift Ralston to the stretcher, explained
that he would park the van and meet them inside. The
orderlies pushed Ralston inside the building and the nurse
waited at the door for Brad to return to fill out the
paperwork. Brad laughed to himself as he imagined the look
on her face when she saw him drive away.
Brad told Roger that the coast was clear, then had to
explain that he meant it was safe for him to come out. The
alien climbed out from under the blankets, and peeked out
the front window. He was relieved to see that the sun was
completely beneath the horizon, and that he no longer needed
to shield his eyes. He returned to the pile of blankets and
rode in silence, as he could sense Brad was in no mood to
for conversation.
The hard surface road Ralston had mentioned was easy to
find. Brad could see the red warning lights of the radome
on top of the hill, but wasn't sure how to get to it. He
strained his eyes through the darkness, but had no luck
seeing a gate or marked entrance. Roger moved between the
seats and pointed through the windshield. "There is an
unpaved road ahead," he offered.
"Where?"
"Just ahead, it leads up the hill to our destination."
"How can you see that far in the dark?"
"I have often wondered how human's could see so well in
the light. We must wear tinted contact lenses." Brad
didn't argue the point with the alien, but followed the dirt
road to the top of the hill.
In a way, Brad was disappointed that no one was waiting
for them. It would have been so much easier if they could
have gotten it over quickly, without the wait. Brad stepped
from the van and looked into the valley below. It looked so
peaceful. No lights for miles around, only a dull hum from
within the fence that surrounded the radome. Brad took a
deep breath of the cool desert air, hoping it would calm his
nerves. It didn't.
"Roger."
"Yes?" responded the voice within Brad's head.
"Can you see auras?"
"No." Brad grunted a reply, and the alien moved to his
right side. Brad watched as the creature busied himself
with the velcro straps on sleeves and the neck of the
jumpsuit. "A truck has turned onto the road. It bears Air
Force insignia upon the door."
Good, thought Brad, if he'd had to wait any longer he
probably would have thrown up. "Can aliens lie?"
"Are you asking if my species is physically capable of
speaking an untruth?"
"Right."
"Yes. All intelligent life can choose not to speak the
truth, but all feel morally bound not to."
"Can your species make a promise?"
"Keeping ones word is very important to my people as we
have learned that all one truly possesses is his honor and
dignity."
"I figure they'll catch-up with Ralston; the hospital
will report the gunshot wound, somebody will figure he was
one of the White Supremacists. Since you're a guest to this
planet I don't think they'll interrogate you too harshly.
I'd like you to promise that you won't mention the girl."
"Is she special to you?"
"Yes," stated Brad chocking on the lump in his throat.
"I shall do this for you. Perhaps one day the two of
you shall mate?" asked Roger.
Brad coughed a laugh, and wiped a tear from his eye.
"Perhaps, but not likely."
"Why?"
"Because, the man in that truck is going to kill me."
"I see," replied the alien without a hint of doubt.
The truck rounded the last turn as it approached Brad
and the alien. The driver switched off the headlights and
covered the last fifty yards with only the running lights.
It stopped twenty feet from the back of the van, and the
driver switched off the engine.
Brad had never been in a tense situation before he'd
started investigating this story. He'd never been in
anything rougher than a schoolyard brawl, yet now, he faced
death. His eyes fogged with tears and his stomach turned.
He willed his knees not to buckle.
Major Dandridge stepped from the Chevrolet Suburban and
walked slowly toward Brad. The red strobe flashed from atop
the radome and bathed the man in a demonic light. Dandridge
stepped closer, reached to his side, and unsecured the strap
across his holster.
"So, the elusive Bradly Dartmouth, Cub Reporter, is
giving up the fight," stated the Major.
"You really do wear an eyepatch," stated Brad numbly.
"A souvenir from better days." Dandridge snatched his
automatic from the leather holster and leveled it at Brad.
"Roger, there is food in the truck." Without a word the
alien walked to the vehicle and climbed in the back seat.
"So tell me, Dartmouth, what did you think you were doing?"
"Don't fuck with me... Shoot me and put me out of my
misery."
Dandridge laughed. "You got me all wrong. I'm just
curious what makes someone like you tick. Did you do it for
truth, justice, and the First Amendment, or was it the fame
and fortune?"
"Both," whimpered Brad.
"Right. You know what I think? I think people like
you feel guilty because you know that your motivation isn't
pure and righteous. You think that by exposing what the
government elects to classify, you can cleanse your own
soul." Dandridge threw his hands in the air. "You're
useless."
"Your kind talks about a perfect society, but wouldn't
last five minutes in Utopia because there wouldn't be any
muck to rake. I guess I'll never understand-- thank God.
Look at you! You're on the verge of a break down: you
couldn't die like a man if your life depended on it."
"Kill me or leave me alone!" Brad cried.
"Kill you? See, Dartmouth, I respect authority. I
accept that when someone tells me no, they mean no. As it
turns out, my orders are not to kill everyone involved with
this escapade, my orders are to silence everyone."
"I suppose I could interpret those orders any way I
wished. Yesterday I'd have loved to kill you-- you've made
my life very difficult this last week. But today I have a
better idea. I'm going to let you live. Why not? We've
got the alien back. You have no evidence that this ever
happened. There is a catch, however: you promise not to
publish the story."
"If I do, you'll kill me?"
"No, we'll publicly ridicule you. We'll make you the
biggest joke to have ever hit the newsstands. Hell, if you
even tell the story to someone, they'll think you were
crazy. Who knows, we may even have you committed. I don't
need to kill you, to shut you up," laughed Dandridge. "Now,
be a good boy and promise."
Brad stood shivering in the light breeze. Surely, he
was toying with him. He couldn't let him live... Not with
what he knew. "Why should I?"
"Because if you don't," explained the Major, cocking
his automatic, "I'll kill you for being an asshole!"
He knew the officer was lying, he knew he was going to
die, he almost welcomed it as a fitting end to the story.
This was just Dandridge's sadistic idea of a joke. Brad was
beyond jokes... He just wanted it to be over... "I
promise."
Dandridge lowered the pistol. "Good." In total
amazement, Brad watched as the Major walked to the back of
the van. "Where'd you get the truck?"
"Rental."
"Good." Dandridge pointed his pistol at the tire and
fired once. The weapon's report muffled the pop of the
truck's tire and was followed by a mournful whine as the air
bled through it's rubber skin. "You got a spare?"
"Yes."
"Good." Dandridge fired a second round into the front
wheel, leaving Brad stranded with two flats. "That radar
facility behind you is a government installation," stated
the man as he holstered his pistol and walked toward his
truck. "The fence has forced entry sensors, so don't get
any funny ideas. The closest town is Warm Springs: get back
on the Highway and head south. You can walk or try to drive
that thing on the rims. Either way, you should make it by
morning. Have a good day, Mr. Dartmouth."
And with that, Major Dandridge and Roger drove off
leaving Brad to fall to his knees and cry, as the faint
phosphorescent glow from within the truck faded from view.
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