James Patterson - Watch the Skies

“No, really,” I said, “I’ll see you later.” And, with that, I transformed myself into a common house mosquito.

NUMBER 5 BLINKED despite the hardware in his eyes. He must have thought I’d teleported myself away.

“How’d he do that?!” he screamed in frustration at the film crew. He yanked the railing off the side of the porch and sent it sailing through the air at them, causing them to briefly scatter.

“Gu-uh!!” he said in frustration and put his tentacles up over his head. “And where’s Number 21? He was supposed to be back by now. Somebody find him!”

As Number 5 spoke, I carefully flew up to his face, landed on his nose, and jabbed my itchy, needle-like snout into it.

“Gah! Bugs!” he shouted, and as he swatted his tentacle down to crush me, I somehow overcame the nauseating taste of his putrid fish blood, grabbed onto his face with all my strength, and transformed myself into a hedgehog.

“Ahhh!” he yelled as my spines penetrated his tender flesh.

I turned myself back into human form and laughed in his face, briefly, as he got over his surprise.

“I know where Number 21 is, by the way,” I revealed. “He’s, um, excuse me”-I turned to spit the taste of Number 5 out of my mouth-“the latest addition to crossed-out entries on The List.”

Number 5 gaped at me as only a fish can, and then his eyes got really dark, and he began to summon an electrical charge big enough to fry me and every life-form within a hundred yards.

Focus, Daniel, focus… the house, the house, the house…

And all at once, I was gone.

Dad would be proud of me. I’d teleported myself back to the safety of the house, two and a half miles away.

THE WOODEN LAUNDRY table was covered with holographic maps, spreadsheets, weather reports, weapon data, and, um, Gatorade and White Castle burgers.

Mom, Dad, Pork Chop, Emma, Joe, Willy, Dana, and I were going over our final plans down in the basement. Lucky was there too, but he was more interested in intercepting a hamburger than how we were going to confront Number 5 and his minions.

“So what did you learn from your face-to-face interaction with him?” Dad asked.

“The most important thing,” I said, wiping ketchup from my chin, “was that he never blinks.”

“So?” asked Joe. “He never smells good, either.”

“Electrical implants,” I explained. “He has data screens on his eyes.”

“Ahh,” said Dad. “Very, very good, Daniel. You do show some promise as an Alien Hunter… Not much, but some,” he added with a twinkle in his eye.

“No, he doesn’t,” said Pork Chop. “The only thing he shows promise at is in his quest to become certified as the most annoying brother in the universe.”

“That may be,” said Dad, “but Daniel’s discovered that Number 5 has wet wiring.”

“Wet wiring? What are you boys talking about?” asked Mom.

“Number 5’s powers-his ability to broadcast himself to electronic devices, to snoop around in remote wiring, to see out of television screens, etcetera, is doubtless being augmented-if not entirely enabled-by a surgically implanted computer system in his body.”

“So, he’s, like, bionic?” asked Willy.

“Like the Six Million Dollar Alien,” said Joe around a mouthful of fries.

“Sort of, only what he’s got would cost more like six trillion dollars. Not to mention that he’s implanting this same kind of wiring in the hordes of alien progeny he’s breeding on Earth,” I commented, remembering the “alien fishnet stocking” Joe and I had observed earlier.

“So now that you’ve figured all that out, what good does it do us?” asked Mom.

“Well, er -,” Dad fumbled for the right way to say it.

“Probably none at all,” I finished for him, dropping my head.

Just then we heard a roar and rumble overhead, and we ran upstairs to see what had happened. Through the driving rain, we could see that the streetlights were out and that the neighborhood had gone completely dark.

DO YOU EVER roll down the window and stick your head out when you’re on the highway doing, like, sixty-five miles per hour in a downpour? You absolutely shouldn’t-I mean, it’s not safe-but that’s what it felt like the second we stepped outside the house.

We could barely see a dozen feet in front of us, even with the lightning going off every fifteen seconds. And the thunder made it seem like we had wandered into the middle of a battlefield. The power was out all over Holliswood.

“Why are you carrying that?!” Dana yelled to me over the noise of the storm.

I was clutching a sixteen-foot copper chain and waving it around in the air above me.

“Science experiment!” I yelled, and promptly got hit by a lightning bolt so powerful it must have flipped me thirty feet into the air and dropped me on my back.

At least that’s what it felt like when I regained consciousness. My friends had dragged me into the van, and we were evidently driving on a highway.

“Are you crazy?!” asked Dana as my eyes fluttered open.

“Um, maybe,” I said, sitting up. My mouth tasted like I’d been eating match heads. “Are we almost there?” I asked over the noise of the struggling windshield wipers and the hail pelting the metal roof of the van.

“Almost, dear,” said Mom. “Don’t tell me you need a bathroom break already?”

“Maybe if there’s a doctor in the bathroom, sure,” I said. Boy, did I feel terrible. But I had to let myself get struck. Just to make sure I could handle it.

“Hey,” I said, suddenly realizing somebody was missing. “Where’s Emma?”

“She just made us drop her off a little ways back. She wouldn’t tell us why, but we figure she was going to check in on the animals at the SPCA. Anyhow, she said you’d understand.”

I didn’t know exactly what she was up to, but I had a hunch.

THE STORM WAS weakening by the time we got to the farm, which was shrouded in darkness.

“Maybe they’re gone,” said Dana, as we peered out the windshield at the farmhouse.

“I don’t think so,” I said. “The power’s out here just like it is in the rest of Holliswood. And that’s precisely why I wanted to come here while the storm was still raging,” I said. “With the electricity out, that should mean Number 5 won’t be able to tap into the cell phone towers and other circuits to figure out where we are. And that means maybe, just maybe, we’ll be able to surprise him.”

“Um,” said Willy, staring at the abandoned-looking farmhouse. “I mean, it’s great that he might not be able to find us, but exactly how are we going to find him?”

“Joe’s going to take care of that end of things. There’s no way an alien that big and stinky can hide from the van’s sensors. Any luck back there, Joe?”

“There’s no sign of him-or any of the aliens-anywhere. Maybe they did go off someplace.”

“It’s not possible. I mean, they weren’t ready to start the film yet. And their entire breeding operation’s based here. They couldn’t have picked up and left just like that…”

“The equipment’s not picking anything up is all I know,” said Joe.

“Maybe it’s busted,” said Willy, looking over Joe’s shoulder with the rest of us. Everything seemed to be working, but maybe he’d forgotten to do something. It certainly was surprising that we weren’t detecting any aliens whatsoever.

“Um, Daniel?” asked Dana.

“What, Dana?”

“Why are we hovering?”

“What?”

“Why is the van hovering fifty feet in the air?”

“What?!” I said, spinning around and spotting the wet upper branches of a maple tree through the windshield.