Last Roundup (fanfic) by Shadow

The Visitors had been clearing out the towns surrounding Los Angeles and if the resistance didn’t stop it, there wouldn’t be enough people to recruit to fight. With Ham Tyler's and his associate Chris Faber's help, the L. A. Branch had begun trying to arm, train, and organize the local people to try to fight off the round ups, but there were so many towns and they weren't always able to get to them in time.

Through Mike Donovan's contact in the Visitor Fifth Column, Martin, they1d received intelligence of another sweep & this time they intended to spring a bear trap on the Visitors that would make an impression on them. They were also going to have to move camp again, having learned early on the danger of staying in one place too long and they chose one of the recently deserted towns. Tyler and Chris walked slowly down the deserted street, peering between the empty houses which stood like mausoleums in a cemetery, firearms slung over their shoulders with the safety's off in case they needed to cover a retreat. It was as dead as an old west ghost town. Chris stopped and looked at his partner, "Well, what do you think?" Tyler, his face as expressionless as stone, nodded "It'll do. Let's check out the cemetery just to make sure." Chris nodded and they continued their way silently.

At the cemetery entrance, Tyler signaled a split and Chris headed to the left while he took the fight path. He was heading up the incline of a hill when he picked up the unmistakable smelt of decaying flesh and stopped, frowning. That wasn't right, these people were six feet down and even if someone had been recently buried, there shouldn't be any smell. He grimaced and exhaled sharply, then continued to follow the scent until it got stronger and then he froze, his face becoming granite. Two bodies lay side by side, barely covered by clumps of earth, as if someone hadn't been able to do more than break the ground up or just didn't take the time to real1y dig. What got to Ham was the child, a girl judging by the long, matted, raven colored hair, lying between them uncovered, as though she didn't matter. His jaw clenched and a vein in his neck began to throb, the only sign that the sight even affected him at all. He pulled his radio from his belt and barked into it, "Chris! Get over here." "I'm on my way" the voice crackled back. Before too long Chris was making his way at a run toward Tyler with his shotgun ready, but stopped dead, any words he might have been about to utter died in his throat when he caught sight of the tableau. "Oh, hell" and he looked down shaking his head. "Town's been empty for weeks and lizards don't bury the humans they kill." Tyler stated flatly, looking warily around. "No, but we do." Chris said and with that walked over to pick up a shovel laying next to the graves. He reached down to pick up the body, but as soon as his finger touched it the body jerked and snapped into a sitting position. Tyler did likewise and one hand went instinctively for the Uzi he carried as his heart seized up for a beat. Chris, who'd just picked up the shovel, dropped it again in that second and unslung his shotgun, but didn't bring it up. His mouth dropped open in astonishment, then quickly snapped shut again. "Welt, I guess that answers the question of who buried them." Ham had begun to breathe again as he looked down into the wide, terrified, brown eyes which darted from one man to the other and back again. Ham squatted down on his haunches and ducked his
head to look her in the eyes as he asked, uWhat's your name?" She simply stared at him, breathing hard. Then he reached out to her, but she shrank back. "How about we bury your folks for you?" he asked. She looked at the outstretched hand, then down at the poorly done graves and swallowed hard, then looked at his face. She reached for the hand and he helped her up, then led her aside. Draping his leather jacket over her shoulders he took off to find another shovel. She wrapped it tighter to herself and inhaled feeting safer than she had since the attack on the town.

***

It was early evening when they returned to camp and went in search of Donovan or Julie to report the location. Ham found them in the "war room" pouring over a map. Two pairs of blue eyes looked up expectantly at his approach and Mike snapped irritably, "You're late. We're doing this job tomorrow night and we need to relocate tonight." Julie laid a hand on his arm, "Mike." Then she turned and looked up at Tyler and asked hopefully, "Is this place going to work for us?" Tyler nodded to her,"Yeah. It's far enough from the other towns that the Visitors shouldn't pick up on the fact too soon that we're there, but not so far that we can't make a quick getaway." Turning to Donovan he shot back, "We were on burial detail" "What'd you do? Bury that old jacket?" Mike couldn't resist a swipe, even if it did sound childish. Tyler gave him a smile that would've frozen a lake, "I was thinking of getting a new one anyway, maybe something in 'gator Your friend Martin looked about my size." Donovan lurched at him, but was stopped. Julie was getting tired of the boys-on-the-playground routine "Enough!" she snapped, "We've got a lot to do and we don't have time for this!" and she led them out of the room.

***

Part of the group, led by Elias Taylor and Chris under Julie's direction, passed out arms and the Teflon ammunition to the residents and took up positions inside the homes while others hid themselves in the shadows between the houses. Julie, Donovan, and Tyler set up with the other half outside the town where the Visitors would be landing. “Elias? Chris? Is everyone in place?" Julie called over her radio. "Ready to rock an' roll doc." Elias's voice came back from one end of town. Chris came back to her from the other end, "We're all set here. The lizards are in for one hell of a surprise." "Good. Remember, wait 'tit all troops are completely in and they begin storming the buildings. Julie out." Tyler called to the fighters around them, “Any make it back to the ships, we hit em when they close the doors and not a moment before." "I just hope we don't loose too many people, theirs or ours, in this." Julie couldn't help feeling a little sick at the thought.

As they had been doing, the ships came in the middle of the night and the moment they landed, shock troops quietly poured out of them and headed into the town like a flood. As they surged into the darkened houses to drag the people out and load them into the transports, they were met with gunfire that ripped them apart and those that ducked between the houses to fire back from cover were likewise met. The survivors retreated to the vehicles and as the hatches began to close and the engines screamed to life, they became bonfires as rocket launchers fired rockets into them. One lone transport made it away. People poured out of the hoses cheering and townspeople and resistance fighters alike gathered the few injured to be taken to the new camp to be treated. The fighters gathered themselves and made to head toward the new camp.

Check Your Prophets (fanfic) by Jonathan Scott-Farley

*this fanfic was scanned and there may be some errors in text translation. If you find any, please leave a comment and the webmaster will correct it.

Far away from the capital city of Sullom Voe, in the middle of
a dry sea is the island of Woz. Now that the sea is dry,
'island' is a bit of a misnomer. Mountain would be a more
accurate description. As the tides receded, the people of
Wozport cut steps in the rock ever downwards to the waters.
Building their jetties of Wozma wood lower and lower until the
tides no longer came and the boats were burned. Today, to
reach the precipitous heights of Wozport, you have to climb
four hundred feet up narrow steps hewn out of the mountain's
rock. Wozport, once famous for its elegant cuisine such as its
renowned delicacy mammelplatz, until recently was a largely
forgotten place in the middle of nowhere.
Once men would prove their bravery to their prospective
mates by diving off Wozport pier, and swimming to one of the numerous jetties before they were attacked by the legendary
Murla fish. The famous Wozport dive became more hazardous the
lower the waters sank, but ardent males were sticklers for
tradition, and wouldn't give up the custom lightly. The
population declined.
Today the four hundred foot Wozport dive is into a
waterless sea, there are no Murla fish any more, but that
hasn't improved the survival rate. The dive is now generally
considered to be the most heroic way of committing suicide if
your prospective mate has turned you down. Others think it is
just plain vulgar exhibitionism.
There is no housing shortage in Wozport, and there is no bus service either. Old men sit on the veranda of Grakharl's Wine Bar and take refuge in talk of the good old days before these young'uns were in their eggs.
The young'uns were so bored that they'd hang around on the corner, throwing bottles at Grakharl's window to see if the old dragon would come out and rile them. When he didn't, they got so riled anyway, they would throw more bottles or find a corner on their own and practise swearing. The girls would sit on the walls kicking their heels just to see what would happen, or form into bitching circles and pick on the outcasts. This was a good game, you had to get enough like minded bitchers around you to be safe. One of the best at this game was Drognar, who was voted by all her classmates as being "the one most likely to be had by the leader." Unfortunately, at that point, the scribe ran out of room in the yearbook, and Drognar left for the bright lights of capital city with this thought in mind. What her classmates really meant was "for lunch". Still, Drognor is not part of this story, and whether he ate her in the end isn't important, but our glorious leader does like his meat well travelled.
Anyway, you'd wonder how this dusty streeted town halfway up a mountain could survive with no commerce. The answer to that came from the town council. The honourable treasurer Glik had been skulking in his home for two weeks before the council meeting, attempting to couch some simple words in accounting persiflage. His statement to the council was to be something along the lines of:
"Revered members of the council, honoured Elders and Matrons, For a time not below fifty planetary rotations, the town expenditure has exceeded its revenue, and we now find ourselves in a negative finance situation." Of course, what this really meant was: "Voted members, members who have a seat on the council because they did something heroic in the past that no one can remember, and egg layers. We're bankrupt." But to say it that plainly was a sure-fire way of having your head separated from your body. What Treasurer Glik needed was a nice governmental piece of techtalk, so for two weeks, he poured through government legislation for a method of saying that the town was bankrupt without saying that the town was bankrupt. He didn't come up with a word, but he did come up with a cure. "Revered members of the council, honoured elders and matrons. For fifty planetary cycles, Wozport has been in a financial wilderness, but no longer. I have found a solution to our problems, a new industry to replace the Wozport fisheries." Every member of the council remained quiet, not one apathetic mouth was raised in enquiry. After all, having work to do would spoil their routine of sitting outside of Grakharls and reminiscing. Grik continued.
"Best of all, this new industry will not affect our lifestyle at all." Now that was better, the matrons looked up from their knitting.
"All right said Chairman Phting, what is this new industry." "Religion "
"What?"
"Religion, all we have to do is institute a position of town luminary, and watch the money roll in."
"Ughh, that means nasty unwashed traveller's with geckos on bits of string wandering around our nice clean streets," said one xenophobic matron.
"Homeless invaders sleeping in doorways," said another.
"No, No, No!" Shouted Glik, trying to regain attention, "not
at all. We don't have to advertise our luminary, and we won't
lay on anything like transport for people seeking
enlightenment, and they damn sure won't walk across the dry
sea to find us."
"So no one will come," said the chairman, "no tourists, no
pilgrims, no one?"
"exactly," said Glik
"Doesn't sound like much of an earner to me," said the
chairman.
"but a Lamasery that's income drops below the cost of
existence qualifies for government subsidy. All we have to do
is prove that every business in the town is dependant on
income from the pilgrim trade, and the government will give us
all lovely handouts without our having to do anything."
"1 must say, I rather like the sound of that," said the
chairman. The plan was put to the vote, and passed
unanimously.
The next task was to find a luminary for the town. This
wasn't as difficult as you would think. Auditions for the
post were held in the town hall the following week. Many
prospective candidates were turned away as the auditions were
so over subscribed. The winning contender was Mrl Tilnok of
South side buildings. He had once been a Garla vet of the
third circle, but since the sea had dried up there were no
Garlas left. He walked into the audition room swathed in his ceremonial third circle veterinary robes which he had died black and painted the symbol of the eternal egg on.
"Hmm, " muttered the chairman, "comes with his own robes. What is your name?"
"The answer to that my son, you must find within yourself," said Tilnok.
"ho ho!" Exclaimed the chairman, and where do you come from" "My son," said Tilnok, "These answers you must find within yourself."
"Ha, ha, ha, ha, han Went the council.
"All he has to do is repeat that if we ever get a visitor, and that's sure to keep seekers after truth away," said Glik. Tilnok was awarded the post on the spot.
Above the town on the pteranodon cliffs, a cave was hollowed out as the official audience chamber of the Sage of Wozport. A hidden elevator was also constructed so that Tilnok and his retinue would be able to get up there quicker than the seekers, who would have to clamber up the steep cliffs in true seeker fashion, (should any actually come). Every shop visage in Wozport was converted to an establishment that sought its profits from the passing seeker trade. Pilgrim trinkets shops, painted souvenirs of the cliffs of the sage. Authorized eating establishments purveying refreshments nfor Seekers only". No trade came, no money was taken over any counter, and the government slipped them a big bung of cash to keep the religious establishment going, after all, we have to preserve our traditions, don't we?
The council continued to sit in front of the wine bar reminiscing about the old days, and the kids practised swearing on the street corners just as they had always done. For two years, the town continued in a government subsidised lethargy, until one day the chairman came shouting at the council. He was so annoyed, he didn't even wait for the sunthly meeting, he came right out in the street and shouted. A despicable display to be seen, especially coming from a council member.
"What's got into you?" said Glik.
"I'll tell you, shall I. You're stupid plan has got us a visit from the government's crack squadron of revenue inspectors. They have a habit of shooting people whose book keeping isn't up to date."
"What are you talking about?"
"The government inspector of prophets will be doing a snap inspection, sometime in the next two months."
"So what? All we have to do is look like we're running the town for tourists that aren't coming any more, and show empty account books. We just have to show we are expecting an upturn in the industry at any moment."
"If we don't get shot, it'll be a bloody miracle," screamed the chairman storming off. Glik clasped his hands together in true meditation manner;
"for miracles, you must look within yourself," he said, making a passable impression of Tilnok. "Hey Kids," he shouted at the Young'uns who were trying out a new game called 'Kick the Curb'. "You all have to pretend you are impoverished urchins preying on the tourists and seekers, or you'll end up decidedly dead. If you don't play along, I'll make sure you are prematurely dead! Now get to the town hall and we'll give you some roles to play." The kids showed how much they had been practising swearing and making gestures, Glik walked over to the ring leader who flashed his face in defiance. Glik picked him up and threw him over the pier rail.
"Who's going to miss a chameleon?" He said, "You can never tell where the little sods are any way! Now get to the town hall, all of you!" The children ran.
For three weeks, the town got into their parts. Tilnok adjourned to his cave and practised giving sage advice. The children ran around trying to sell pilgrimage badges to each other and the owner of 'The Seeker's Rest' had to learn how to cook again, very quickly ..
At the end of the third week, a cruiser fell out of the sky and parked in the town square. For two minutes it remained quiet while the townsfolk looked on wondering if they would end up seriously dead, or just marginally decapitated. The cruiser had emblazoned on it's side 'Sullom Voe Government, Prophet Returns Department." The hatch opened and Glik stepped up to make the ritual obesence that it is well to perform to any government official, just in case.
"Salutations," said the officer that got out, "I am Inspector General Garlik, and I am here to look at your books." One of the youths ran up to the inspector and took his photograph. "Honoured Pilgrim," said the child, "it is a shame to have to
.ask you for ten Krivs for this souvenir photograph of your visit to Wozport, but if I don't, my dad will beat me!" Garlik smiled at the child, reached into his pocket, then shot him.
"Now, if we could get on, my time is precious,"
"Certainly," said Glik, "I have assembled all of the business account books in the town hall, if you•11 follow me."
"No," said Garlik, "I'm not from the accounts department, I'm from Prophet Returns, I'm here to inspect your prophecy
accounts."
"My what?"
"I'm here to examine your sage's prophecies. I hope you have been keeping a record."
"Of course," said Glik, "we will have to go up and see the town luminary though. Would you like to climb the ritual cliff face, or shall we go up the newly installed steps for the disabled?"
"Cut the crap, we'll go in the elevator you've built yourselves." Glik swallowed hard and waved the inspector to follow him.
Journeying in the elevator with Garlik could not be described as being a relaxing journey for Glik, who felt that at any moment he might be embarking on a more metaphysical journey upwards.
"Why do you want to inspect the prophecy returns anyway?" he asked, trying to make small talk.
"To make sure your sage is not saying anything immoral or
illegal of course."
"But prophecy is prophecy I thought," said Glik naively.
"Yes, and prophecy that predicts the downfall of our glorious leader is treason. It is punishable with some interesting methods of Death we've developed." Glik swallowed, being an accountant, he knew nothing about religious book keeping procedure, he just knew about money. His only hope was that Tilnok would get blamed and shot for the absence of accounting instead of him.
The elevator doors opened and they passed from behind a curtain into a cave that had been soothingly decorated in the most livid purple that its decorator, Loxen, had been able to find. Glik wanted to throw up, the colour was so sickening, but the inspector seemed to approve. Tilnok sat at the end of the cave chamber on his luminary's throne, hands clasped in meditation.
"Greetings my son," he said, "you have travelled far, I am prepared to prophesy for you now."
"Drop it," said Garlik, "where are the books?"
"The answer to that my son, lies in yourself." Garlik drew a gun and aimed it at Tilnok.
"I said drop it! Where are the books?" Tilnok shrugged,
"over there in the drawer," he said indicating a Wozma wood bureau to his left. The only piece of furniture in the cave other than his throne. Garlik walked over to it and pulled the drawer open. Inside were two ledgers, Garlik took out. the first and examined it:
"First prophecy, ..... lies in yourself. Second
prophecy, ..... lies in yourself. Third Prophecy, ..... lies in yourself. Is that the only prophecy you hand out?"
"The answer to that my son ... " Garlik pointed the gun.
"No the long prophecies are in the other ledger." Garlik took the book out and examined it.
"But its empty," he shouted.
"Well, there's been no one worth prophesying for, yet."
"What do you mean by that?" asked Garlik.
"Come over here," replied Tilnok, "make the ritual devotion
and I will tell your fortune."
"Ho, ho," laughed Garlik, moving over and flipping his dorsal
in respect.
"You have come to Woz looking for evidence of Zonists, and
will go away angry because Zonism isn't followed here. But do
not be upset, when you get back to the capital city, you will
find you have been promoted, the leader has a new job for
you."
"Ho, ho, that's rich," said Garlik. Tilnok continued.
"Many years ago, the leader's scientists discovered a planet,
far away, and today, they return from their survey mission.
There is enough water on this planet to re-float Woz, and the
leader has decided that he wants the water. He has decided
that you should command his invasion fleet."
"What me? A prophet return's inspector?"
"Yes, you. Even now your promotion awaits you. This planet is
populated by a grotesque race of mammals who talk in a curt,
disgusting language and give themselves horrible sounding
names. Yet, the next craze to overtake Sullom Voe will be that
everyone will take upon themselves one of these names."
"That's right," interrupted Loxon, " he was telling me about
this just before you came in. I think I'll call myself
Oswald." Garlik pointed his gun and Loxon shut up.
"Always knew you were a fairy," said Glik.
"Is there any more," asked Garlik.
"Yes, you will call yourself John."

"John?" queried Garlik, "What a boring name! Make sure you
copy that prediction down in your returns," he said laughing,
"and 1111 see you in a few sunths when I return with the
device we reserve for false prophets."
Garlik left the cave, laughing all the way to his cruiser.
"How did you know about the returns books?" asked Glik.
"You didn't think I'd accept the job without doing a bit of
studying for it first, did you?"
"You realise that he'll corne back and kill you when he proves
that prophesy false, don't you?"
"It isn't false, I tell you, I've been studying. But I didn't
tell him all of it."
"What else is there then?"
"Well, the leader has only given him the post so he has
someone to blame if it goes wrong."
"Yes, and?"
"And he'll be shot by someone who used to live in this town.
You know, the girl who used to head that bitching circle. You
know, Drogna, but of course she'll have re-named herself by
then. Diana, I think it is."
"You're mad," said Glik turning to leave.
Well as you know, Garlik was promoted, and he did set out
in command of the leader's fleet. So he never did go back to
Woz. In fact, he never did get the time to tell anyone about
this amazingly accurate prediction before he left for foreign
planets. Except that is for his empathic advisor, Bragakah.
Bragakah was a very sensitive man, but easy to rile,
especially when he thought he was being duped, which isn't an especially good trait for an empathic advisor. One day, a sunth or so after the fleet had left, he decided that his life lacked fulfilment. He needed advice and direction, and who better to get it from than the sage that Garlik had raved about. Putting a sign on his door saying 'Gone for Consultation' he purchased the ritual accoutrements of a seeker. Cloak, thumb stick and satchel and set off across the dry sea basin towards Woz.
It had been seven sunths since Woz had been visited by the Department of Prophet Returns, and everything had reverted to its lethargic, apathetic norm. The kids had found a new game, it was called 'Whip the Wocket', when one of them noticed a tiny dot on the horizon. He pointed it out to the others, and over the next two days they watched it until it resolved itself into a traveller, coming their way. The Young'uns leader ran off to tell Glik. Day by day, the council stood on the pier and watched the figure approach.
"What do we do?" asked the chairman.
"The same as last time," replied Glik
"But he might be from the good sage guide" said the chairman, "if he is, we'll never get any peace."
"Then again, he might be a government spy, checking up on us. We'll just have to play it by tongue," said Glik.
Two days later Bragakah started to ascend the steps of Woz. In his journey across the dry sea, he had broken three fingers, and had set them himself. He had even wandered into a crivit patch, losing a few bites from his dorsal. When he reached the town centre, he was assaulted by urchins trying to sell him pilgrimage badges, and restaurateurs trying to force Mammalplatz on him. Bragakah ignored them all, walked to the rock face of pteranadon cliffs and began to climb. Up he journeyed, all day, pausing only on a rocky outcrop for some Grola Grass sandwiches before continuing to the cave. At twenty past dinner, he arrived, and panting heavily, entered.
Tilnok, sat in meditation on his throne, in calm reverie.
Glik stood behind, (they had used the elevator).
"You have journeyed far my son, I am ready to prophesy." Bragakah flipped what was left of his dorsal in the religious sign of respect and said;
"Oh wise one, my life lacks fulfilment. I need direction. Please tell me why I am here? What is the meaning of life?" "The answer to that, my son, lies in yourself," replied Tilnok.
"I don't believe it," cried Bragakah, his temper rising, "What did you say?"
"I said, the answer, my son, lies in yourself." Bragakah was not amused.
"I have journeyed for eight sunths across the dry sea, lost part of my dorsal to a Crivit, broken three of my fingers, and you give me that piece of Rex Shit! Tell me the meaning of life now, or I break this thumb stick over your revered ass!" "OK, OK!" said Tilnok, "You are forcing this out of me. The truth is that the meaning of life can not be found here." Bragakah stood up menacing his stick. Tilnok raised a hand in pacification. "But I can tell you where the meaning may be found."
Bragakah fell to his knees,
"Tell me oh wise one where I may find this truth."
"I hesitated in telling you because it is such an arduous
journey."
"No matter, I need to know."
"Very well. On the planet our leader has sent the fleet to,
there is a wretched land of ice and snow, and there on one
mountain top there is a tree which blooms once every hundred
years, when the snows melt. If you taste of this flower, you
will know the meaning of life. But to taste this bloom, you
have to avoid the giant creatures with vicious claws that roam
the land, and defeat the tribe who protect the tree. If you do
this, you will know the meaning of life."
"Revered sage," said Bragakah, "I will set out on this journey
today, I will find the meaning of life, or death will overtake
me in the trying."
Bragakah crawled back down the slope and set out over the dry sea back to capital city.
"What did you say that rubbish for?" asked Glik.
"He threatened me, didn't you see? Anyway, prophecy under
duress isn't lawful."
"You're getting good at this sage stuff, arenlt you."
"I try my best. Its just a pity that sometimes it is easier
for people to swallow a load of raptor dung than it is to
swallow the truth. The 'in yourself' is the only answer to
that question." Tilnok sighed and got in the elevator to go
home.
Now as it happens, it doesn't matter whether the quest he gave Bragakah was true or false, (it was false actually, but Bragakah never found out. The red dust got him first). The prophecy still did the damage that Wozport feared. Bragakah returned to capital city and before embarking on his quest to Earth, he told everyone about Garlik's true prediction and the perilous quest he was going on by the direction of this most revered of sages. The listeners told other listeners, until the whole of capital city was talking about the sage of Wozport. Seekers began to journey for advice, and when Tilnok gave one of his long predictions, it was generally accurate (he'd been practising). These seekers told other seekers until every seeker of truth was setting out to hear the wise words of the sage, which only goes to show that from a very small investment, you can get enormous prophets.
The citizens of Wozport never managed to regain their lethargic parochial life, Wozport became too busy with pilgrims and tourists, but it didn't really matter because most of them made a killing selling sucker bait to the gullible. No one noticed when the government withdrew their subsidy either, or even when they started taxing them, heavily. And that is how the little town of Wozport became the religious capital of Sullom Voe. If you stand on Wozport pier at night, the whole of the dry sea is illuminated by pilgrim campfires, and if the wind is in your direction, you might catch a sniff of the Wozma wood burning and the odour of roasting Grola Grass. On the other hand, if the wind is still, you can hear the faint strains of camp fire singsongs that the seekers of truth indulge in when they bed down for the night. Those classic pilgrimage songs that every child now learns in class such as "The Wozport sage has news for me." or "We're off to see the Lizard, the wonderful Lizard of Woz."

Final Hope (fanfic) by Gregory Dean

“From around the world sightings of mother ships not seen in two decades are being reported. From New York, Los Angeles, Washington D.C., London, Paris, Rome, the list is endless…”

“La Guardia, Kennedy… all reporting sudden grounding of all flights…”

“The President and Vice President are now en route to private bunkers at undisclosed locations…”

“The Department of Defense is reporting dark approach…”

“At this hour, ships are simply hovering all over the world…”

“At last count, over two hundred sightings reported…”

“The world appears to be on hold as we wait…”

“Stay tuned to this station for further updates as they become available…”


Julie ran towards the Suburban with Will close by her side. They jumped inside, locked the doors and fastened their seatbelts.

“Will, grab my cell phone and call your Dad at the station. Tell him, we’re on our way home.”

Will pressed the talk button.

“Nothing. They must be jammed.”

“Dammit,” she said, flipping on the radio.

“All members of the listening area. If you are on the road, please get home now as soon as possible. All major roads, highways and interstates are being shut down effective immediately. I repeat…”

“We’ve got to get home Will. We’ve got to get home…” Julie sped down the street and hit a bump. The vehicle swerved toward a tree but Julie missed hitting it.

She hit a traffic jam as she neared the bridge. The traffic was bumper to bumper and she watched and waited.

“Let me have that phone. I’ve gotta call Mike. Let him know we’re okay.”

She grabbed the phone and punched the talk button. Nothing happened.

“See. I told you,” Will said.

Julie grabbed the steering wheel with both hands and leaned her head against it. Tears were streaming down her face as Will placed his hand on her back.

Not again, she thought. This can’t be happening again.

“Mom. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

Looking up he saw a large lightning flash come from the mother ship hovering over the city. He wasn’t convinced that he had seen anything until he saw the bridge in front of them begin to break away and collapse.

Julie looked up ever so slowly and took in a deep breath. Her eyes widened as she watched in horror the bridge falling into the water below, the bumper to bumper traffic falling into the void of her vantage point.

“Will, grab your stuff. We’re not going to be able to get home. We’re gonna have to leave on foot.”

They scrambled for the essentials and Julie grabbed her flare gun and the cell phone.

She could hear the screaming as they left the vehicle behind in the traffic of blaring horns.

Mike looked into the camera.

“Ladies and gentlemen what you’re seeing is an attack by what we believe to be the return of the Visitors.”

He gulped, trying to maintain composure. “Dan Jamison is on the scene. Dan, can you tell us what’s going on there?”

“Mike…Mike…it’s mass chaos here right now. We were on our way back to the studio when we got stuck in this traffic jam. My God. Look at the size of those things. They appear to be much larger than before…”

People were running in the background. Screaming overpowered Dan’s words.

“People are fleeing their vehicles and running for their lives…”

The studio lost signal with Dan as the crowd overtook the scene.

The director held up a handwritten sign.

“We now return you to network coverage of these events.”

“We assume the ‘first wave’ of attacks is focused on major thoroughfares of transportation. San Francisco is reporting a massive attack on the Bay Bridge. New York is reporting a similar attack on the Manhattan Bridge…”

Mike watched in horror as live shots from around America filled the screen.

“It appears these attacks are, for the time, focused on the United States. At this hour, reports from other countries detail peaceful hovering of their mother ships.”

“Danielle, have you been able to reach my wife?” He asked, eyes not moving from the screen.

“Sorry, Mike. All the lines are jammed.”

He knew Julie must be as terrified as he was. He hoped Will had made it home safely. And Meg. Poor Meg. He felt powerless. Julie had been right. Letting her go so far away…. And Sean….he was a survivor. Sean would know what to do. Yes, Sean would be okay.

“We’ve got to get to shore, Patty,” Sean stammered as he steered the boat on course.

Storm clouds began to move in around them.

“Where we going?” She asked frantically.

“I know a place not far from here. We’ll be safe there.”

The mother ship had passed over them and he looked back to see it going towards land.

Patty was sobbing.

“We’ll be alright. Trust me…”

Robin watched the mother ship moving above them. Her hands nervously grasped the crucifix on the chain around her neck.

“Look at the size of those S.O.B.’s,” Conroy said excitedly, as his camera focused on the underbelly of the mother ship.

The panicked crowd was now running away from Elizabeth who was still standing in the water. She felt the whispers of the others around, speaking in their voices to her. Slowly her eyes closed, as she gave into their words and moved in the water.

“Oh my God! What is she doing?” Robin asked in fearful awe.

Conroy turned his camera to Elizabeth.

“She’s walkin’ on the goddamn water. Sweet Jesus…I don’t know which one to look at,” Conroy said, focusing his aim on Elizabeth as she walked trancelike towards the shore.

“ELIZABETH!!!” Robin shouted.

The words shook Elizabeth. Her arms extended from her sides while her eyes opened with a glow about them. She lost her footing on the water. Her arms outstretched, she fell back as the water engulfed her.

The doors of the security facility swooshed open as a group of uniformed armed guards rushed down the hallway. One after another, the bars unlocked and lifted.

The man leading the team had a look on his face of purpose and disdain. He was dressed in black and commanded attention as he approached Charlie and the other guard.

“Commander!” Charlie exclaimed. “You never come down here…”

“Take me to her,” Ham Tyler ordered. “Now!”

From the alley Julie poked her head out to see the mass of people invading the street as they ran from what moved above the buildings.

“C’mon, let’s go,” she told Will, pulling him by the arm down the alleyway.

“We are we going?” he asked.

“To the clinic.”

They ran through a maze of abandoned alleyways, avoiding the main streets. She saw a band of rats scurrying away into a sewage drain.

“Will, you’ve got to move faster!”

“I’m running as fast…as I can.”

The sky above was turning darker as the mother ship loomed above, blocking the light.

If we can just get to the clinic….Julie thought. We’ll be safe there.

“Damn these phones,” Mike said, slamming the receiver. He looked at the monitor.

The mother ship loomed slowly over the city like a dark cloud. The official report was the attacks had ceased for the moment. All major roadways were affected. Vehicles were lined up in traffic but no one was in them. Everyone had abandoned them.

He had to get a hold of Julie. He had to know that she and Will were okay.

“Mike, we need you back on the set,” the director said.

“On my way.”

He hustled to the set and took his place behind the desk where Lisa applied powder to his face.

“A l’il shiny. That’s all,” Lisa tried consoling him.

“And we’re on in three, two, onc,” the director announced. Lisa stepped out of the way.

“This is Mike Donovan with a local update. We have just received confirmation that a special live feed from the New York mother ship is expected anytime. Stay tuned for our special coverage of this development as it unfolds.”

Sean reached the beach first.

His arms and legs were sore as he lifted himself up and trudged heavily on the sandy shore. He ran back to Patty and placed his arm around her.

“You gonna be okay?”

“Yeh. Fine, Sean.” She wrapped her arm around his waist as they walked up the beach in the rain.

Patty pointed up at the cliff above. For a moment her mind escape the panic.

“Look at that. It’s beautiful…”

A lighthouse stood in dire need of repair.

“Is that where we’re goin’?” she asked.

“We’ll be safe there. I promise.” He grabbed her hand as they ran through the rain toward the lighthouse.

Julie pulled Will by the arm into another alleyway. They were less than a block from the clinic. She spotted Dan Jamison and his cameraman running with the crowd.

“Dan!!” she yelled, waving her arms.

Dan barely heard her over the chorus of chaos and struggled against the crowd to the alley where she was.

“Julie? Will?” He asked but the mob was too forceful. “Bob get that camera on her.”

Bob jerked around and focused the camera on her.

With quick thinking Julie opted for another means of communicating.

She raised her hands and began to sign as quickly as she could.

She finished with a gesture of her two fingers in the shape of the letter V. Tears ran down her face as Dan and the cameraman disappeared into the throng.

Charlie and the other guard did as told. No further questions. They led Commander Tyler and his team to the barred glass cell. Ham stood for a moment and peered into the darkness.

“Turn up the lights. I wanna see her.”

The fluorescent ceiling panel slowly lit up and at first Ham didn’t see her. Slowly, in the corner, he saw her come into focus. The light was blinding at first to the reptilian eyes but quickly adjusted.

For a moment they stared at each other. Their eyes locked, calculating the other’s move.

“Commander Tyler. How nice of you… to drop by.” The slits of the eyes narrowed while the arms and a regenerated length of tail curled around the reptilian nudity as she stood to her feet.

“Modesty in your old age?” Ham commented, eyes never leaving hers.

The mouth forced a smile of jagged teeth and the face changed to a matter of seriousness.

“I’m fully aware of my people’s return to your planet. I… could be…of great resource to you.” The mouth curled with a smile as she approached the glass.

“My, my, Diana…Always one for self preservation.” He paused. “However, I come bearing different news.”

A look of interest and curiosity showed in her eyes. She stood face to face with him, only barred glass separating them.

“You’re being relocated.” His nostrils flared.

Her eyes narrowed. Interest and curiosity faded into controlled panic.

“Not quite the homecoming you expected?” Ham asked in a mocking tone.

With a laugh, he turned away and back to the guards.

“Sedate the bitch. Get her ready for transport. Use extreme force if needed.”

Julie unlocked the basement door of the clinic as she rushed Will inside. She locked it behind them and together they struggled with two heavy file cabinets barring the door.

“We’ll be safe for the time being here.”

“What are we gonna do?”

“I have to think. I have to have time to think, Will. There’s an old TV set around here somewhere. See if you can find it.”

She mulled over her options. She had to come up with a plan. Her mind raced.

Mike watched as the network covered the events. Los Angeles was full of people running aimlessly in the streets, some beginning to loot businesses. He hoped Meg was all right and he felt tremendous guilt, as a man, as a father that he was unable to do anything...but wait. It was as if everyone was suddenly paralyzed by the second coming of….them.

“Everybody quiet,” the director commanded as the network interrupted their coverage.

The monitor went black. A great silence filled the studio as they took a collective breath.

A face filled the screen. His eyes seemed to peer eerily back at Mike. The eyebrows arched and the lips slowly covered with a Cheshire Cat smile.

Televisions around the world filled with the extreme close-up of his face. People stopped running in Time Square and peered up at the large mounted screen. Viewers were glued to the face, waiting, as seconds became an eternity.

Slowly his mouth began to open and the words reverberated from his lips.
“People of Earth. My name… is Adam. On behalf of my people, I bring you greetings.

As you are quite aware, intel indicates your planet is now free from a previously… toxic virus. So, now, we have found it safe for our return.

Twenty years ago, my people arrived from the constellation Canis Majoris to your planet with a mission of peace, offering an abundance of wealth and knowledge. In exchange, we requested your help in saving our dying planet by sharing your common elements and resources.

Our mission today remains the same… with minor adjustments. We still hope to co-exist, working with you, in this… new Millennium as a more… united standing ways heavily in the hearts of my people.

With sensitive consideration we return to you with an acceptable manner and physicality. Our renewed goal is to promote a safe assimilation into your society and present that we, too, can be viewed as similar creatures.

To the people of the United States I have this say:

Today’s attacks on your transportation systems are a small, but necessary means of gaining your full attention and utmost cooperation with matters at hand.

I, as appointed leader, must first request the safe return of all prisoners of war you may possess. In particular, one whom you call “Diana” is of… great importance. Our media research indicates she was sentenced to life imprisonment at an undisclosed facility in your United States.

As well, I request the presence of one known as The Great Light. My people are very interested in her spiritual gifts and knowledge that link us together. It is our sincere hope she will graciously accept this invitation and possibly assist us in bridging the gap between our worlds, bringing peace and unity to our races.

In turn, we shall receive the actions of your United States as speaking for the rest of the world as you stand most representative of your… United Nations.

For now, I wish all of you… peace. Thank you.

“End transmission…”

Julie watched the red insignia fill the screen of the small TV set. Her heart raced. The insignia turned in her mind like a swastika.

“He looks human,” Will said, eyes glued to the screen.

“You don’t know them like I do,” Julie commented, placing her arm around her naïve son. “Don’t be fooled. They’re not our friends. They only want to disarm us with their talk of peace and unity while they take everything away we hold so dear.”

“Why do they want this Diana person back so bad? And ‘The Great Light’. What are they talking back?”

“Elizabeth, Elizabeth Maxwell. You’ve watched her show a million times. They want them both back…”

“Yeh, but why?”

“Power. It’s all about power and who has it. If they have them, they hold the power to controlling the rest of us.”

“What’ll happen now?”

“We wait, we listen, question and then…” Julie grew quiet.

“And then…What?”

We act, she thought to herself. We act as if we never have before…


“Is she out?” Ham asked, looking at the restrained form.

“Yes, Commander. It took a heavy dose, but she’s out like a light now.”

“Good.” He gripped the restraints and tested them. “I don’t want that face restraint coming loose. All I need is for her to wake up and eat someone.”

“Perfectly safe, sir. We’re ready for transport.”

Diana’s unconscious form was carted on a two-wheeler restraint board to the elevator by two armed guards and their commander. The doors swooshed open after he inserted his access card.

“Commander,” Charlie said, grabbing the door as it was beginning to close. “There was a transmission for you from head of security.”

“And?”

“Sir, they want us to keep her here. Their leader is requesting her safe return.”

“No can do. There’s no way…”

“Security is sending an escorted helicopter for transport to New York City. We’re under orders to take her to the roof in the next half hour.”

Ham looked back at him, his jaw clenched tight. Slowly, his face relaxed and he took a deep breath.

“Tell them we’re… on our way to the roof now.”

The doors swooshed between them and Ham looked at the two guards on each side of Diana.

Not a chance in hell, he thought to himself.

“Somebody call the paramedics!” Robin shouted as she helped drag Elizabeth from the water.

“She’s not breathing,” Conroy said as they laid her on the beach.

Robin placed her ear to Elizabeth’s mouth but couldn’t hear breathing.

She tilted the head back as some water escaped the mouth.

“C’mon…don’t do this to me. Don’t do this…” She began to cry.

She pinched her daughter’s nostrils and placed her mouth to hers. Giving two quick breaths she waited for a response. Nothing. She began quick, steady compressions to Elizabeth’s chest.

“Where’s the paramedics?”

“They’re on their way Ms. Maxwell…they’re on their way.”

Ham pushed the elevator’s button.

“Sir, what are you doing?” Asked one of the guards.

Pulling his hand up, Ham produced his sidearm. “There’s been a slight change of plans gentlemen.”

“But sir, you heard the order. We’re expected on the roof.”

“I’m quite aware of the order.”

One of the guards started to move his rifle.

“Don’t think about it,” Ham warned, his finger on the trigger. “Hand over your weapons, boys. I don’t want unnecessary wet works.”

The doors of the elevator swooshed open as Ham flung their weapons over his shoulder.

“From here on out, I’ll be giving the orders. Understand?” He motioned the guards with his sidearm to move Diana’s restrained form.

“Hustle boys. Get a move on.”

He covered them as they rushed down the ramp to a small moving van as this part of the original plan.

He flung the doors open and they lifted the body inside.

“Okay fellas. Inside.”

“But sir, we’re disobeying a direct command.”

“Do you have a death wish, Bryant?”

The guard went silent. Ham pulled the doors shut and locked them tight. He ran to the front of the vehicle and jumped in the driver’s seat.

Revving the engine, he yanked the stick shift and floor boarded the gas pedal.

“On to Plan B,” he said, racing toward the open gates.

“Thank God you’re here,” Robin said, tears streaming down her face.

“We’ll take it from here, ma’am,” the paramedic said, moving towards the body.

“Is this Elizabeth Maxwell?” The other asked.

“Yes, yes. Please…help her. You’ve got to help her.”

The paramedics checked her vitals then proceeded with mouth to mouth and CPR.

“She’s not responding. How long has she been like this?”

“A couple of minutes, I’m not sure. Please…do something.”

“Ma’am, we’ll do everything we can. I promise.”

“We’ll stay here for the night,” Julie told Will as she handed him a blanket.

“What about Dad?”

“He’ll be fine. He’s at the station and I’m sure he’s just as scared as we are.”

“Dad scared? That’ll be the day.” Will smiled at her as she ran her hands through his hair and kissed his forehead.

“You try and get some sleep, okay sweetie.”

“Okay.” Will lie down on the cot in the storage room. “Mom?”

“Yeh,” Julie said, as she stood in the doorway, an empty juice bottle in her hand.

“Everything will be alright.”

She smiled. “I hope so.”

In the hallway, she stopped and leaned back against the wall. She worried about Meg and Sean and hoped they would be all right. Maybe in the morning, the phone lines would be clear and she could hear their voices on the other end of the line.

Tossing the juice bottle in the waste can she ran her hand down the back of her neck. Her mind was tired and her shoulders were sore from being so tense. Walking to an over chair she flopped down and leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

Just a quick nap. A quick power nap and I’ll be able to come up with something…


“What is it?” Mike asked, looking at Dan Jamison.

“I got Bob to film this as we were on our way back to the studio. I knew you’d want to see it.

Mike watched as he crammed the videotape in the editing room’s console. The monitor showed Dan running with the crowd. He pressed the fast forward button until Mike saw Julie’s face come onto the screen.

Mike watched intently as Julie’s face looked quiet. He focused on her moving hands.

“I know she must be trying to let you know that she’s okay.”

“She’s got Will with her. They’re okay and…she loves me.” Mike’s heart pounded nervously as she formed the peace sign in the shape of the letter V.

Mike touched the screen, his hand touching Julie’s as the screen lit up his face.

Conroy stood with his arms wrapped around Robin.

“Everything will be fine. Elizabeth will be fine.”

Robin watched over his shoulder at the crowd of spectators encircling her daughter.

Tears streamed down her face as she saw the crowd begin to disband and she saw the paramedic moving from the crowd as he came toward her.

He moved slowly, an air of despair covering his features.

Robin pulled away from Conroy and as if life were moving in slow motion she began to run toward him, toward Elizabeth. As the crowd moved away she noticed the other paramedic leaning over the body.

“NNNNNOOOOOO!!!!” She stopped in her tracks her mouth moving with the word as she saw the sheet being pulled over Elizabeth’s face.