Weller--A Novel In Work (1) Wasn’t going to happen. This wasn’t the night. You can sleep when you’re dead, but it hadn’t come to that, not yet. The dogs we’re stirring, growling, grumbling, restless with fright. There was something about it, something different, a feeling, an uneasy turbulence disrupting the balance. She was sleeping, the sleep of the dead. Peaceful, quite, covers over her head. Just as well, she didn’t need the terror, she’d had enough of that. Tonight I’d face the terror alone. Tonight, I’d protector her, like so many nights before. Easy now, be quite, not a sound. Slip away, out of the bed, out the door, down the hall. Cold steel in my hands, the weight feels good, machined and oiled to perfection. You never need a gun, until you need it desperately, and tonight would be one of those times. It was a gift, from a woman in another time. A Winchester, extended 8 round chamber, combat grips, fold down stock, black as night, lethal as the kiss of death. I had selected the rounds carefully, double aught shot and 72 caliber slugs alternating. Nothing could withstand its force, nothing of this world, or others, I’d proven that. They always find me, evil son’s of bitches. Cruel, heartless, uncaring. Trust they say. We won’t hurt you. For so long they had their way, but not now. Not my wife, not my child. How had it started? 20 years ago, seems like a lifetime. A night of fun with friends. A long drive home down a lonely country road. What were those lights? What’s happening? Time lost, forgotten for so long. Even now, it all seems like a dream, a nightmare, shuffle and repeat, looping over and over again throughout my life. When would it end? Who knows for me, but for some of them tonight, if I’m quick. They weren’t stupid, that’s for sure. The first time was easy. Caught them unaware, laid waste to their plans. Not as deep in my head as they thought. The hunted had become the hunter. They might not be mortal, in the conventional sense, but they bleed and die. I thought it would be enough. Resist, show them I was serious. I was wrong, got that all wrong. They don’t think that way, they don’t feel, they don’t mourn. Down stairs now, moving quickly and quietly. Don’t need lights, I know where everything is, made sure I knew. Practiced the steps a hundred times in the light. Light, they never come in the light. The dark is their ally. Terror is the night. I wonder, who knows? What faceless government entity knows? Does the President know? I doubt it. He’s public, too big a risk. What’s the term, plausible denial? No, some code word rated bureaucrats. Some rear echelon muther fuckers. CIA, NAS, DOD? FBI, for sure, but who else. Different people at different levels. 80K a year, outstanding medical benefits and knowledge that would drive a normal person to madness. Out the door now, into the night. It’s quite, even the crickets know the shits about to go down. Access the threat, I know the terrain. Picked it, set it up for defense. Pines trees tall and strong surround the house, reaching out for hundreds of yards in every direction. Fuckers have figured out the time space continuum, but they haven’t figured out how to land in a forest. The field is 400 yards away, down a red sand road. Beam me up, that’s bullshit, they have to walk like everyone else. The dogs are quite now, it’s always the same. Once the little bastards touch down, the dogs haul-ass Their not stupid either. They’ve got options, fight or flight. Off the porch and into the woods, time to get strapped. Night vision, got to love the Cold War, it’s end made military hardware cheap and the Russians build good shit. Slip the ear buds in and turn the volume to MAX. AC/DC works, the noise keeps them out of your head. What did Tollbooth Willie say? You fuckers are gonna die, you’re all gonna fucking die!!! Col. Matt Hendrix saddles up into the $98.00 Sam’s special simulated leather office chair behind the Commander’s control console at Cheyenne Mountain, taps in his password and brings the CRT screen to life. Slipping his intercom on, he keys up the connection to Specialist Charles Brown. Hey Peanut, what the haps? After a moment the reply is solid and low key. Pretty quite night sir, we’ve got 19 trips on the fence. Status, Hendrix quarries? 17 airborne, 2 nesters. Threat? Negligible. Okay, we got coffee brewing Peanut? Roger that, and donuts too, you’re in early. No staff meeting tonight Hendrix replies with a slight grin, the General’s wife has a dinner party working. Really, and you weren’t invited Brown muses? Yea, go figure! Slamming away at his keyboard Hendrix sorts through several displays of the joint radar net commonly referred to as “the fence.” A relic of the Cold War, the fence is a radar net that surrounds the continental United States stretching 200 miles into space. It was originally designed to warn against ICBM missile attack, but it had found new life after 9/11. After a quick scan, Hendrix keys the intercom again. The “nesters,” anything of interest? Well, one Brown replies. The Pennsylvania landing is a known. Eleven confirms in the last 14 years. It’s a guy named Jacobs, they visit him pretty regularly. Poor Bastard, you think he would have moved by now, Hendrix stated with a sense of irony.. Probably hasn’t figured it out yet, Brown replies. Ya think? Eleven times in 14 years and he hasn’t figured it out? That’s eleven times we know about Brown replies, might be more. Still, eleven visits, what’s your take? Been cross checking, Brown replies. He’s in therapy and on meds now, probably so zoned out he doesn’t even know what happening. What’s up with the Therapist? Hendrix ask? Local chick, Brown replies, checked her out through AMA, she’s second tier. FBI is wired into her medical transcription service, she’s writing Jacobs off as Bi-Polar with night terrors. Okay, that’s good, any chatter? Negative, Brown replies, local PD is handling a kegger at some farm kid’s place and on the lookout for white Mazda in connection with a stick up at the 7-11, but other then that, nothing of interest. Well, what’s you’re take on our second nester Hendrix ask? Beaumont, Texas? Nothing ever happens there! That’s harsh, Brown replies, where do you think the gas in your Corvette came from? You know what I mean Hendrix sighs. Peanut had way too much info at his finger tips and an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. The guy was a virtual encyclopedia of obscure facts and trivia. Still checking, Brown said, with a hint of exasperation in his voice. Hendrix chuckled to himself. Don’t always have all the answers, do ya Peanut? I think we’ve got a runner Brown said with a touch a renewed confidence. Really, Hendrix replied--I’m listening. Need a moment, Brown replies, crosschecking local utility records to known’s that are out of pocket. Thirty seconds slip by quietly then Hendrix’s intercom comes to life. Got him!! Dan Weller, 42, married, one child, age 9, last known visit about 8 months ago in Arkansas. Established utility service about two months ago. He’s freelance, does computer work, still crosschecking. FBI has files on him. Ex military, good hacker skills, FBI thinks he’s been connected to some money laundering in the past, but covered his tracks too well for prosecution. Looks like he’s retired now, got some legitimate investments, does pretty well in the market. Stand by, Code Word files this might take a minute. Code Word, Hendrix thought to himself, that’s heavy. A minute turned into three then five, before the intercom came back to life. SHIT, Peanut breathed into the intercom. We got problems boss, he’s a killer. Details, Hendrix barked into the intercom with a renewed sense of urgency. He has confirmed kills in Arkansas and before that Florida. FBI confirms retrieval of remains. What, did they dig them up Hendrix ask. Hell no, Brown chuckles, Weller turned them over. Turned them over Hendrix ask incredulously? Roger that, Brown replies, called the local Feeb office and gave them to the SAC. What the fuck did he do with them Hendrix asked almost in complete disbelief? What else, Brown replied with just a touch of humor in his voice, gave them to us!! Status, Hendrix ask is head a whirl with conflicting thoughts? Aw, Brown hesitated, looks like normal shit, Wright-Patterson. Makes sense, Hendrix complied. Fuck, fuck, fuck, a killer!! How the Hell is it that I’m just hearing about this now Peanut, Hendrix barked into the intercom? Sorry boss, Brown replies with his own consternation evident. The Feeb’s system is a bit outdated. The last Director didn’t believe in computers and they’ve only been upgrading their systems in the last couple of years. I was lucky to get into the Code Word stuff now. I guess they started with the really important files first. Okay, Sorry Peanut Hendrix replies taking a long deep breath. What assets do we have available? Military, nothing closer then Mississippi Brown replies pecking away at his keyboard There’s a FEMA dark team located in Houston, but it’s on stand-down, probably take a few hours to get them mobile. How long has the nester been down Hendrix ask, answering his own question with a few strokes of his keyboard? Shit, a half hour!! What’s happening with the locals? Already on it, Brown replied, give me a minute this county has oil money, top notch equipment--digital, it’ll take me a minute to tie in. Okay, Brown came back up on the intercom, Weller lives in the county, not the city, so that’s a break. County has nine units on patrol, nothing within 10 miles of Weller. Any chatter Hendrix asked? Nothing related to our guy, Brown replied. So, he’s on his own Hendrix stated with satisfaction.? Looks like it, Brown confirmed. Okay, Peanut this shit has now officially escalated beyond our pay grade, so it’s time to take it upstairs. Pity boss, looks like the General is going to miss his wife’s dinner party. Yea, that’s a shame, I’m sure he’ll be really upset about that. Make the call Peanut, I’m on my way to the secure conference room. Two minutes later, General Alfred Crocker’s aide slipped into the formal dining room and discretely whispered into the General’s ear. Trying not to show his relief, Crocker excused himself from the table of visiting Congressmen, kissed his wife gently on the cheek and excused himself. As he followed his aide out of the room, he could feel the daggers his wife was staring at his retreating form. This better be good he thought, living under a mountain did not afford the Misses many social opportunities, and she had been planning this one for weeks. No doubt, there would be Hell to pay upon his return to home and hearth. Fucking assholes, welcome to Southeast Texas, rains nearly everyday. Weller crouched on the edge of the clearing just back in the woods. It was July, lucky break, the outside temp was nearly the same as human body temp, so not much of a heat signature to pick up with thermal optics. Weller had been watering the field for days and it was a quagmire of Texas gumbo mud. The little bastards were struggling in the mush, their bodies depleted and diminished by years of interstellar space travel. Mind control was their primary weapon. They couldn’t do shit against a real man in a stand up fight. Not exactly Claymores, but close enough, all stuff you could buy at Radio Shack and the local gun show. Weller scraped the dirt away from the top of the Igloo ice chest he had buried two months before. Lifting the lid, he extracted the home made detonator and checked it’s wiring. He had been checking the connections everyday for the last 6 weeks, so he knew they were solid, but still he was a creature of habit. The field, the road, and even the first 30 feet of tree line around the field were wired. Four inch PVC pipe cut into one foot lengths, packed with black powder and 16 penny nails. This was going to get nasty. Reaching back into the buried cooler he pulled out a M-1 Carbine. It was Korean war vintage, but in excellent condition, now upgraded with finely tuned laser sights compliments of the “Cheaper Than Dirt” catalog. Scooting on his belly he crawled into the fighting hole he had prepared weeks before. Reinforced with treated four by fours and a cinder block floor in afforded 80 percent coverage in the standing position, 100 percent when crouching. Weller waited patiently as he watch them struggle toward to the road. He counted seven and two still by the ship. In range now, wait for it, wait… With one deft move Weller tripped two toggle switches at once and was rewarded for his efforts by a staggering concussion as the charges went off almost simultaneously. The effects were devastating, nothing was left of the alien party. Trees burned and smoke filled the air with the acid smell of spent gun powder. Recovering quickly, Weller stood up in the fighting hole and took aim with the M-1. Flicking the laser activation switch with his thumb, he took aim at the first alien still by the ship and gently squeezed the trigger. The alien was still staggered from the impact of the explosion and struggling to regain its balance when the 30 caliber round sliced through its head like a ripe melon. In an instant, the high speed, hollow point round almost completely blew the alien’s head off its body. Without hesitation, Weller shifted the laser sights to the second alien, which was now struggling through the mud in a vain attempt to return to the ship He squeezed the trigger and watched the alien pirouette asshole over elbows, the center of it‘s feeble chest blown completely apart.. In the next moment, the ship began to glow red, then yellow and white as the door folded into the body in a seamless movement. Weller was moving fast now as he climbed out of the fighting hole. He had only a few seconds, and he knew it. Jerking the buried cooler open he reached in and extracted one of a dozen pipe bombs secured inside. Judging the distance and the time on the fly, he clipped the end of the fuse protruding from the one inch PVC cap, fired up the Zippo lighter retrieved from his shirt pocket, lit the fuse and broke out of the woods at a dead run toward the ship. The mud was thick, working against him as it had against the aliens, but he was strong and in good shape, so he moved at a quick pace. A hundred yards, then fifty. The ship began to rise, to a hover when Weller was within 20 yards. No time to think, Weller hurled the home made pipe bomb with all his mite and then threw himself flat out on the ground. The pipe bomb arched gracefully through the air end over end as the fuse burned through to PVC cap and touched off the packed gun powder three feet before touching the ground and almost directly under the ship. The concussion from the explosion visibly rocked the ship and it yawed hard to the right almost digging its edge into the soft ground. Weller looked up, his ears ringing from the explosion as the ship righted itself, drifted slightly to the left and then ascended straight up. Hendrix had just finished his briefing of General Alfred Crocker when the phone chirped in the secure conference room, Grabbing the receiver Hendrix noted Peanut Brown’s extension. What’s happening Peanut? Update sir, Brown replied. We’ve got major fireworks at nest two. Clarify? Local chatter sir, the SD is reporting a major explosion in the vicinity of nest two. I’m bringing up satellite telemetry now, patching through you. Hendrix, looked over at the wall mounted display screen and noted the obvious glowing yellow balls of light radiating from the dark screen. Looks like we’ve got trees burning and a pretty wide area of destruction. Angel down, Hendrix asked urgently? Negative sir, Brown responded running his finger over his keyboard at lighting speed. Angel is airborne, but might be damaged, tripped the fence about 2 minutes ago heading due South. Puerto Rico, Hendrix asked? Probably, Brown replied, but it’ slipped down under the net. Looks like it wave hopping. I’m trying to patch into the DEA’s AWAC now for a better view. What’s the status of our other angles Hendrix quarried. Seven still in our air space, two headed south toward nest two at high speed, ETA about three minutes. Rescue mission? Looks that way, Brown replied. IN-FUCKING-CREDIBLE, Hendrix expounded. Fucker drew blood again. No doubt, Brown confirmed!! Shanna Weller was rocked from her deep slumber by the concussion of the explosion and awoke momentarily disoriented. Quickly recovering she called out in vain to her husband and then frantically tore through the house to her son Adam’s room. Adam was cowered in the corner, visibly frightened. Pulling her son close, she guided him through the house and outside. The glow of the flames were visible from the field through the surrounding blanket of pine trees. In an instant, she new what had happened and what she must do. No time to think, only react. Pushing Adam along, she guided him into the Dodge Ram 1500 4X4 parked in front of the house, climbed in, fired up the engine and tore down the gravel drive nearly out of control. Hitting the blacktop, she pulled a hard right, dropped the hammer and headed into the city as fast as the truck would go. Weller picked himself up out of the mud and watched the ship disappear into the star field above the open field. DAMN, he thought to himself. The ship had been the real prize. If he could have brought it down, maybe, then maybe someone would listen to him. Okay, no time to waste, he knew there would be another chance. He knew another ship was on its way and this time he was ready. Tromping back through the mud his hearing began to clear and he thought he could hear the sound of the big Dodge’s engine accelerating through the woods. Good, Shanna was moving. She’s so fucking awesome!! God he loved her!! How could he have ever been so lucky as to have found such a woman to share life, bare his child, stand by him through this insanity? Tromping back to the tree line, he reached down and grabbed the arm of the now dead second alien and drug its lifeless body behind him. Here’s another addition to your collection boys he though with a rye grin. Fucking FBI, he knew they’d be coming. They knew him now, knew what he was capable of. Knew what he did. In the distance he could her the sound of approaching sirens through the clear night air. Better hurry boys, or you’re going to miss all the fun. Just as Miller jumped back into the fighting hole, he felt the wind blowing through the trees and knew he had company.
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