D. MacHale - Storm

“I saw that there’s a resort on the California-Nevada border called Primm,” I offered. “It’s in the middle of nowhere.”

“Everywhere out here is the middle of nowhere,” Kent said sarcastically.

I ignored him. “I’m thinking we’ll find food and a place to sleep. From there we can head west toward the coast.”

“Whatever,” Kent said. “I’m more focused on the next two hours.”

The only person not talking was Olivia.

“You with us, Olivia?” I asked.

“Unfortunately,” she replied.

That was about as much of a vote of confidence as we could expect from her. At least she hadn’t completely checked out.

I held our speed to eighty-five for the entire time we were on the interstate. We didn’t want to catch up to the team ahead of us or lose ground to the team behind. The mission would succeed or fail based on how many of us could get through to the airbase. If the Retros smelled trouble, they would have a tough time targeting multiple, small targets. At least that was the theory.

“There it goes,” Olivia said, sounding wistful.

She was watching the sun disappear behind the distant ridge.

I couldn’t help but wonder if we’d ever see it again.

“We should be reaching our turnoff spot soon,” I said to Tori.

She checked the map for the four hundredth time.

“It’s coming up,” she announced.

We reached a fork in the highway and saw the sign that directed us to our next leg.

“Extraterrestrial Highway,” Kent read. “Classic.”

I made the turn without losing speed. Soon the road began to rise and twist as we crossed over a ridge.

“Won’t be long now,” I said. “Keep an eye out for a dirt road on our left.”

“It’s hard to tell where we are,” Tori complained. “How are we supposed to see a single-lane dirt road in the middle of—”

“There!” I announced.

If I hadn’t been looking hard, we would have missed it. It was an unmarked dirt road that led away from the highway and into the desert… toward Area 51. I made the turn and immediately had to slow way down because the road surface was uneven and gravelly.

“I think we’ve got about twenty miles of this,” Tori announced. “Then we look for the contact.”

Our contact was a member of the Paiute tribe. The Paiutes had escaped with relatively few casualties on the night of the attack. Seems as though the Retros mostly targeted population centers and didn’t spend as much time wiping out people who lived in remote villages. It gave me hope that there were many more such survivors scattered all over the country, and the world. Since the attack, the Paiute had been working with the survivors to scout the air base, help with security, and plan the counterattack.

“It’s almost dark,” Kent said. “How are we going to see this injun?”

“Seriously?” I scolded. “Injun?”

Kent shrugged. “Little slack, please. Tasteless comments are allowed when you’re putting your life on the line.”

I decided to let it go, as did everyone else.

The road was dead flat but led toward another ridge that was covered with scrubby trees and towering rock formations. Somewhere on that rise, our contact would be waiting.

We had traveled for nearly twenty minutes when Tori leaned forward.

“There he is,” she announced.

On the side of the road maybe a quarter of a mile ahead was a figure waving a flashlight. I slowed and soon pulled up to an elderly guy who was wearing a cowboy hat, blue work shirt, and jeans.

“Park behind those boulders,” the old man instructed.

His face was as deeply lined as the desert. I’d bet that if anybody knew his way around these parts, he and his fellow tribesmen did.

I drove across a stretch of dirt toward a pile of boulders that was fifty yards away. As we drove around to the far side, our headlights set upon our next mode of transportation: a couple of twoseater dune buggies.

“Awesome,” Kent said with relish.

“Swell,” Olivia moaned with dread.

“Leave your gear here,” I said after killing the engine. “Just take the charges. We’ll come back for everything afterward.”

The old man rounded the boulder pile as we got out of the Range Rover.

“The moon is full tonight,” he said. “Travel without headlights. Follow this same road for maybe ten miles. It will take you up through these hills and down to the other side. That’s where you’ll find it.”

“Have you been to the base?” I asked.

The old man looked at the distant hill as if lost in thought. It was an awkward moment. I wasn’t sure if he had heard me or understood what I asked.

“It’s heap-big trouble out there, right, Tonto?” Kent asked. I could have hit him.

The old man glared at Kent and said, “Watch your mouth, assbasket.”

“Whoa, sorry, man,” Kent said sheepishly. “No offense.”

“Yes, I’ve been there,” the man said. “For decades it was closed off. You couldn’t get to within a few miles before the military police came out of nowhere to stop you. After the attack, our cell phones went out, so a few of us went to the base looking for answers.”

He glared at Kent and added, “Yes, cell phones. We haven’t sent smoke signals for a couple of years now.”

Kent stared at his shoes.

The old man continued, “We weren’t stopped at the outer security perimeter or the main gate. We drove right into the base. What we found…”

His voice caught. It seemed as though he was trying to gather his thoughts. Or come to grips with what he had seen.

“What we found was the angel of death. Only there were hundreds of them, lined up in perfect rows, waiting to fly and spread their poison. The ones we approached were silent. No lights. No hum of engines. But we saw several come to life in the distance and take their turns taxiing to the runway and taking off to…”

He couldn’t finish the thought. It was too disturbing.

“There weren’t any people there at all?” Tori asked. “How is that possible?”

The old man shrugged.

“I don’t want to sound like some crazy Indian, but I swear it was like the place was being controlled by an unseen hand. These planes were being moved and manipulated like toys. Giant, deadly toys.”

“And nobody tried to stop you?” I asked.

“We never got close to any of the planes that were active. If we had, it might have been different. I know the plan your Chiefs have put together. Chiefs. I love that.”

I looked at Kent, who shrugged. “I didn’t say anything.”

“It can work, so long as you don’t come upon a plane that’s alive.”

“We know that,” I assured him. “We’ve already crossed paths with a few. They can see.”

“They cannot see,” the old man said sharply. “But they have eyes. They are merely the tools of someone who is not of this earth.”

“You mean, like… aliens?” Kent asked.

“I mean no one from this earth is capable of committing such wicked crimes against their own kind.”

Sobering words, and completely true.

“You must go quickly,” the old man said, suddenly all business. “Who will drive?”

“I’ll drive Olivia,” I said quickly. “Tori, you drive Kent.”

“I’m driving,” Kent said and sat down in the driver’s side of one of the buggies.

It didn’t matter to me who drove. I just didn’t want Kent and Olivia to suddenly disappear.

“I will wait here until you return,” the man said. “If you are not back by midnight, I will assume you will not be coming.”

“We’ll be back,” Kent said cockily. “Once you start hearing the booms, be ready.”

He fired up his buggy while Tori slid next to him and strapped on her safety belt. Olivia and I got into our vehicle and strapped in. The old man passed helmets to each of us.