A Life Not My Own
By TW Embry
I woke with a sudden jolt. Slowly the reality of where I was sank in. I was on the cold steel table, again. Terror seized me, my heart racing in my chest as I broke out in a cold sweat. I couldn’t move no matter how franticly I struggled.
The lights above me came on, blinding me with their brightness. Then I heard the noise I feared the most. The smooth rolling sound of the metal door opening, they were coming!
The first time it happened that I remember, is waking up in my closet when I was six years old. The only thoughts I had were to get back into bed and tell no one, running thru my head, commanding me.
Then one morning I woke up in the fort John Taylor and me built in the pine trees behind my house, shivering from the damp, cool pre dawn air. The thought kept running through my head, I had to get back in my room without waking Mom a Dad.
I slowly opened the back door and crept gently across the living room. I made it into my room and quietly closed my door. I climbed into bed to get warm, undetected falling instantly asleep.
It wasn’t long before it happened again, this time there was a tingling knot on the back of my head when I woke the next morning.
I soon found out what happens if I don’t do what the tingling knot says, it causes terrible pain. Forcing me to go to an alone place, a place far from prying eyes and wait. For what I was waiting for I didn’t know. This continued until I turned sixteen and I got my driver’s license.
At last I could legally drive my baby girl. Dad and I had spent the last year building my first car a 1972 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme. Soon after Dad and I finished the roll cage, installing the built 350 Rocket engine, and back halving the rear end, Mom and Dad separated, leaving the body work unfinished. We had created a wolf in sheep’s clothing, rough on the outside but wicked fast.
I quickly became known on the local underground drag circle and my challenges got to be fewer and fewer for my baby girl has never been beaten by a street legal car.
I will never forget the first time I took my baby girl to the local drag strip. I only got two passes but what a ride the second pass was. First pass I ran an 11.2 second at 120 mph on street tires. On the second pass I ran a 10:08 162 mph on street tires, breaking the rules about fire protection suits and disqualifying me for the rest of the night. After all his effort in building the car my Dad declined my invitation to go to the drag strip with me.
Tonight, I was standing in the short line behind a man with very bad taste in cheap cologne. I was trying desperately to keep my nose clear of its noxious fumes. My favorite 12 pack of beer under my arm, I started fidgeting from the wait.
I was at the Amoco at the Ft. Pierce I-95 interchange because they had the coldest beer in town and my favorite brand was on sale, when I felt it. The first warning tingles from that knot on the back of my head, the knot I never told anyone about, not even mom.
My friends called me Bon because I love AC/DC. I have lived in the town of Ft Pierce, the jewel of St. Lucie County it is not often called, on the east coast of sunny south Florida all of my life.
The Florida of my childhood has become the home of tourist eating alligators, over built once beautiful beaches and fished out world-class fishing.
Known worldwide Orlando is famous for the mouse house a.k.a.. Disney World. A city, always jam packed with hordes of tourists from every corner of the globe, a cancer growing in the headwaters of the Everglades.
The pretty young baby girl working the register must have noticed my change in demeanor, my involuntary look of fear. She has no idea that I can’t disobey the tingle. If I do a punishment of pain will come, even if I merely dally along the way. I had go to my alone place and I had to go now!
After she tossed her long blond hair to make sure she had my attention, and smiling sympathetically she asked, “Headache?”
“A migraine unfortunately, thanks you for asking,” I answered, with a shy smile, rubbing my left temple in agreement. I have to keep her from asking any more questions.
“We have packs of pain relievers on isle three. They help mine”, she said helpfully.
“No thank you gorgeous, I have my prescription meds at home. Just the beer and the rest in 100 octane please,” I said as I handed her my last fifty bucks.
“Feel better,” she cooed with an overly friendly smile as she handed me my receipt, our fingers touching for just an instance, her cheeks flushing red with the forbidden excitement of being romantic strangers.
Now is not the time for flirting, I gotta git and damn quick too. I will however be back to flirt another time now that I am single, I thought. I was being commanded to go to my alone place, a place far away from any prying eyes. I know not by whom I was being commanded, yet I dare not disobey for fear of the pain if I did.
This shit sure is a drag on my love life I thought as I hurried across the parking lot to my baby girl, she was over by the only 100-octane pump left in Ft Pierce. After I finished pumping, I reached down to put the gas cap back on when I was summoned again.
A not so gentle reminder hit me with a blinding stab of pain behind my left eye, causing me to drop the gas cap on the greasy concrete and watch it roll under the rear axle, as I gasped for air. After the indignity of retrieving the gas cap on all fours, I banged the back my head on the rear bumper as I stood up.
Pissed off and mumbling curses at my clumsiness as I rubbed the back of my head, I slid behind the steering wheel, depressed the clutch, shifted into neutral and bumped the starter. My baby girl woke with a loud snort, like some great beast startled from its nap in the sun. I smiled, waiting until she settled into her perfect symphony of lumpy idle and rumbling exhaust, listening as it echoed off the storefront.
As I swung my baby girl off of Okeechobee Rd and onto the dirt of Carlton road, another not so gentle reminder ripped thru the back of my skull and down my neck, causing me to spasm in pain. Instantly infuriated and seeing everything through a murderous, red haze, craving that tonight be the night I lost, and death won.
Was it too much too hope that this would be my last ride? Was this my final daring of death to take me?
“Death… Please… Take me! Free me from this hell!” I screamed as I stomped my baby girl’s throttle to the floor, my rage now a full-blown possession. I speed popped the clutch and my baby girl came alive. Twin rooster tails of dirt exploding behind her, my baby girl lunged forward like she was a wild mare, tossing her bit, finally running free.
With the rear end constantly trying to torque drift to the right in the sand, tires still rooster-tailing dirt, the tachometer shift light flashed. I speed shifted into second gear. I steered out of her second fishtail with the rear tires still rooster tailing, the speedo hit 99mph, then 119, the shift light flashed again.
I speed shifted into third, with a bounce and a bark the rear tires finally got a firm grip on the beginning of the paved end of Carlton rd., catapulting forward to 139… 154… 161 mph. Her tri-power carbs howling, begging me to leave the leash off and shift into 4th gear, demanding to run wild a bit longer.
It took every ounce of my will not to shift into forth. This road dead-ended into Rim ditch and certain death going this fast. At least I would be rid of this demon I thought, at last I would be free of my unseen masters, just not tonight it would seem, for I had beaten death to 160 mph on a dirt road.
With the thrill of spitting death in the face and living to tell the tale surging through my body like an electric current, coursing from head to toe, I backed off the throttle. I had to, I won. I had beaten death again, condemning myself to live a yet one more wretched day.
I was fast running out of road, Rim ditch was rushing toward me in a big hurry. I braked hard; I was coming up to the construction entrances turn in fast. I pumped the brakes hard flicking out my baby girls tail end, power sliding with a slight bump on the accelerator, screeching to a hard stop, sideways, facing the entrance.
With a smile I got out with my flashlight and looked at my skid marks on the pavement. These were my best ones yet, I thought proudly as I slid behind the wheel. I paused for a few moments to admire my driving prowess before I released the parking brake and shifted into first gear.
I slowly idled around the rusted, drooping cable guarding the entrance of the abandon housing development heading for my alone place. Subconsciously dreading what was coming, I idled to a stop at my spot in the farthest abandon cull de sac from the main entrance. Here I was again, at my alone place, complete with lots of empty roads to hide on, no houses, and most importantly, no prying eyes to ask any questions.
Every winter our roads, beaches and restaurants get clogged up with flocks of strange dressing, cheapskate snowbirds, migrating south for the winter. Lost forever are the Florida swamps of my youth, once filled with ancient cypress and live oak trees, now drained and covered in golf courses.
Gone is the abundance of wildlife I came to know on my countless boyhood forays into her primordial swamps and vast wetlands, murdered by the need for more golf courses and beachside condominiums for the real-estate speculators. Who then lay in wait, like spiders waiting to pounce on their prey of choice, elderly retires.
My alone place was a silent testament to that ferocious greed, the old trees sold for lumber, abandon by the wildlife for lack of habitat. The very wildlife and trees they use in their proposal brochures to sell the land they just plundered.
I shut down my baby girl and waited, I never knew for what or for whom. I set about making myself comfortable; starting a small fire and rolling out the blanket I kept in the back seat. Boredom quickly set in.
Well here I am, another lonely Friday night, no baby girlfriend, no job and no more money, I thought as I lay by the small fire sipping my forth beer, watching as the fire crackled hungrily, consuming the dry oak branches I had gathered. I only built a fire when it was winter time and cold like tonight. It was just too damn hot even for a small skeeter fire in the summer time.
I took the last swig of my now warm beer, stabbing at the fire with a stick in frustration, sending a shower of sparks skyward. I was such a loser. My life was like one of those daytime soap operas Grandma likes so much. I always came here when the urges came. It was like I was supposed to meet the love of my life, or maybe someone like Barnibas Collins when I got here, but neither she nor he ever showed.
If I didn’t come then the knot on my head would start to buzz. If I resisted further, it started to send pulses and stabs of pain throughout my body, forcing me to come, just like tonight. I mean look at me, here I am sitting by myself in the middle of nowhere, alone and miserable, waiting for who knows what. Why am I here? What the hell do they want with me? I thought for the thousandth time, shaking my head in disgust.
I rousted myself from beside the fire, crushed my empty beer can, and headed for the cooler in my baby girl’s trunk for another cold beer. I could feel my anger and resentment building to a slow boil deep inside and the soon to be 8 beers was not helping matters either.
I was already falling back into my loner ways, solitary partying out in my alone spot. My baby girlfriend Deena dumped me a little over two months ago was what I told everybody who asked as casually as I could manage, struggling to keep smiling as I spoke. Who am I fooling? I thought it was 9 weeks and 3 days and 13 hours.
Deena left me on the same day I lost my job at the machine shop. She left me for Tony, my best friend. Tony was not only my best friend; he was in fact my only real high school friend.
Everyone else from high school just thought I was that weird wild child who had always slept in class and who should be avoided for being a bit odd. They were all sure I would never amount to anything more than a town drunk, just like the counselors and the principal at my Catholic high school. Tonight I think they might be right.
I grimaced with regret as I lifted my baby girls rusted trunk lid, Dad and I never got to the bodywork. Being exposed to the salt air had made my baby girl a little rough on the outside, kind of like me, a wolf in sheep’s clothing, disguised in rags.
Maybe one day I would finish the job. She wasn’t much to look at my baby girl, but she was the fastest car in town, except maybe for Charlie and his semi-pro drag racing buddies. But I don’t really count them, their cars weren’t street legal, my baby girl is.
My baby girl would burn rubber in all four gears and fishtail at 140 mph when I shifted into forth. She would run 10’s down at Moroso’s drag strip and then drive home. She was one bad bitch. The drivetrain was as far as Dad and I got before he and mom got divorced. Then he moved out and forgot about me.
I grabbed another beer out of the cooler and tended my now dying fire. I stirred the embers this time and then added some more wood. It was a cool enough night that there weren’t any skeeters out and the stars were hanging in the sky like diamonds set in the black velvet of space.
I lay back down by the fire, listening to the flames lick hungrily on the new wood. As I watched, the full moon rose with a slow magnificence above the light pollution of Ft. Pierce and the interstates.
I stared out into the vastness of space wondering if was true that we were the only intelligent life in the galaxy. NASA says there are 400 billion galaxies that we can see with who knows how many more we can’t. I highly doubt we are Gods children and the only intelligent life given the odds that we are, despite what they taught at my catholic high school.
Desperate for the answer to whom or what made the bump on the back of my head tingle. I made a drunken demand on a falling star, I raised my fist and shouted, “Tell me why am I here! What do you want with me? Why won’t you leave me alone?” As usual I got no answer.
I got angrier with each beer, until I had finished the entire 12 pack. I so buzzed I could barely stand. I lurched back toward my blanket, after I returned the last dead soldier to his comrades, to lie back down by what was left of my campfire and sleep off my buzz.
I feel like dying inside. I love Deena! It hurt me so much that she wouldn’t let me see her anymore. How could she do this to me? Why is this happening to me? Tears ran down my cheeks between sobs as I pounded my fists on the cold, hard, uncaring, ground.
I had been compelled to seek out my alone places since the first time I woke up in my fort in the pine trees behind my house. The urges were too strong, and the pain was overpowering, I couldn’t resist.
I have tried many times to disobey my unseen masters. Just like tonight, they have always been with me, compelling me, controlling me with pain. I know there is no escape for me. Whoever they are, I know they will never let me go.
When I was little, I used to wake up real early in the morning, shivering, finding myself in the latest fort I had built, never remembering how I got there or why I was there. Now it was as if I was supposed to meet the love of my life once I got to my spot whenever the knot tingled. I never did.
I did always feel better the next day. It was as if I had completed some unknown yet very important task. Tonight the tingling stopped as soon as I got here. I guess I was just supposed to get drunk and sleep it off under the stars again. It would appear I had stood up yet again.
It was a real bummer living at home again after my brief taste of adult freedom with Deena. I had moved in with her just before my high school graduation and we lived together until that faithful October 13th.
I got fired for being late coming back from lunch with Deena, that night she kicked me out. She said if I didn’t have a job I couldn’t be with her.
“I don’t support no man”, she said as she held the door open for me to leave. Now I was back to living under my mother’s roof.
I knew my mom wouldn’t miss me tonight. It was Friday and she would be out parting all night with her new, recently divorced friends. All of whom were also trying to recapture a youth lost to an early and failed marriage. The sport of man trolling they called it. That left my younger brother and me to our own devices most Friday and Saturday nights.
My sister was the lucky one, she was away at college; she did not have to see what was happening at home. I haven’t seen dad in over a month. Since the divorce, he spent all his free time and money chasing younger women, trying to recapture his college stud jock glory days.
The feelings of abandonment by Deena, by mom and dad and by Tony’s betrayal, welled up inside me, spilling out of my eyes as I lay curled up in the backseat of the only thing that seemed to love me. With my eyes tightly shut and hands over my ears, I rocked gently, sobbing to the sound of the rain splattering on the roof and windshield from a sudden thunder squall.
Once my sobbing stopped I knew, no matter what, I could count on my baby girl, my 72 Oldsmobile Cutlass, she was, the, baddest bitch it town. She is all I need was my last though as I finally drifted off to sleep.
I woke up sweating from the heat of the morning sun shining through the back window of my baby girl the next morning. I rubbed my hangover-glazed eyes and slowly stretched trying to get the kink out of my neck and back and checked my watch. It was 11:39am.
My mouth had armies marching in it, my empty stomach was rumbling and I badly needed a shower. It was time to head for home. But first I had to pee. As I reached the grass, and unzipped to let George out I felt an unfamiliar sharp pain. Must be from holding it so long I thought as I zipped up, anxious to get home before mom got up.
With a single bump on the ignition, my baby girl roared to life, then settled into her perfect lumpy idle. I grinned; I always got such a thrill from that sound. Things seemed better today, except for another friggin headache.
As I swung out onto Okeechobee road, towards home, I let my baby girl run wild for just a little bit, just until all three carbs started to moan, backing off after I hit eighty, only chirping the tires as I shifted into third gear and then smoothly shifting into forth.
As I drove towards home, I absently mindedly touched the knot on the back of my head. Most times it just itched like crazy after one of my nights out. This morning it was actually sore to the touch and swollen, which had never happened before. I would have mom look at it when I got home, if she wasn’t too mad at me and didn’t bitch me out for staying out all night.
As my luck would have it, mom was up and waiting for me when I got home. I knew from her body language that her feathers were ruffled and another fight between us was brewing.
To head her off before she really got really fired up, I told the first thing I could think of. I told her I had a job interview that afternoon. She seemed surprised and pleased, then she smiled and made me breakfast, my night out now a thing of the past.
As I stepped into the shower, I wondered where I would go to find a job. I had spent my last fifty bucks on gas for my baby girl and last night’s twelve pack so I really needed a job. As I soaped up, that sharp pain radiated from my best friend George and his two brothers this time.
It was like the worst case of blue balls ever. Even Deena at her most rambunctious had never caused a pain like that. I straightened up and took a couple of deep breaths and the pain dulled. Something was definitely wrong.
When I tried to remember why George hurt so much, the bump on the back of my head began to buzz and tingle and the memories of last night turned vague, hazy and hard to remember.
The harder I tried to remember the worse the pain from George got, bringing me to my knees in the shower. The pain was so bad that I heaved up my breakfast, barley making it to the john in time.
Finally, the heaving subsided, as did the pain. I had been in the shower so long that the water was running cold. As I turned off my cold shower and reached for my towel, I knew mom would be mad that I used all the hot water before she had her shower. It is just one more thing for her to bitch at me about. I could only imagine what she would think if I told her about George’s pain, that I would have to keep to myself.
I was NOT going to the doctor until I could remember what the hell happened last night. Just the thought of trying to figure that out started the knot on the back of my head buzzing again. In a near panic, I desperately tried not to think about my problem with George. JOB! I thought. Where am I going to find a job? That thought made the buzzing stop and my knees quit shaking.
As I slowly got dressed, I remembered the ad for security guards in the help wanted section of the News Tribune yesterday. A new security company was making a move on all the gated communities in St Lucie and Martin counties and they were holding a job fair today.
I figured I would fire up my baby girl, take a ride and check it out, if only to get mom off my back. I mean who my age wanted to be a security guard anyway Right? That was a job for old men. They probably won’t hire me anyway I thought.
Three hours later, I put my new uniform in my baby girls’ back seat. They had hired me on the spot; my first shift was tonight 11:00pm to 7:00 am. Well at least mom would be happy I finally got another job, or so I thought.
I was wrong, mom was not happy that I was a security guard and even less so about the hours I was scheduled to work.
“You can do so much better,” she said in her quiet, angry, passive aggressive voice.
“I will find something better, this is just temporary,” I explained, placating her.
“All right then, it had better be,” she agreed, still angry, “You better get some sleep. I will fix your lunch, who knows what you will find to eat at that time of night,” she fussed, shooing me off saying “Go take a nap.”
It was just about 3:00 am when the knot in the back of my head began to tingle. I felt that urge to go to my alone place. I was standing watch over the entrance to a construction site after my five minutes of training by the site sergeant. He was out on his golf cart patrolling the area. As if the criminals were going to drive up and use the front gate, I scoffed to myself. However, this is what they were paying me to do.
A fool and their money are soon parted is the phrase that came to my mind.
I tried to ignore the tingling but it only got worse, buzzing and turning into a sharp throb. I knew there was nothing I could do about it now; the site sergeant would be back any minute. I massaged the knot but that did not help at all. Maybe I could take over the sergeant’s patrol that might stop the tingling.
I knew in the back of my mind that it would not, not as long as someone else was around. I had to be alone. Soon the throbbing became stabbing pains of light ripping through my mind. I suddenly had an uncontrollable urge to pee. I blindly headed toward a small patch of nearby woods at a dead run to relieve myself before I to go home and change my new uniform pants, completely forgetting about the bathroom in the guard shack.
When I stepped back out of the woods I was amazed to see two sheriff deputies and their patrol cars at the gate, talking to the site sergeant, they all turned and looked at me. “Where have you been?” shouted the site sergeant.
“I went to take a pee,” I shouted back
“For three hours?” he bellowed as I got closer
“What do you mean three hours, I just left five minutes ago,” I retorted.
“You have been gone three hours, I called the deputies because I thought something happened to you and you were just off sleeping in the woods.” Turning to the deputies the site sergeant said, “Sorry to bother you officers, I will take it from here.”
With a disapproving shake of their heads, the deputies got in their patrol cars and left. “You are just lucky I know those guys or you would be in a lot more trouble than just losing your job,” the site sergeant said to me.
“Lose my job for taking a pee? Are you kidding me?” I answered angrily.
“No, losing your job for taking a three hour nap,” snarled the site sergeant his jaw clenched, “What is that blood all over your face from,” he asked as I got closer, “What did you do fall down in the dark and hurt yourself?”, he sneered.
I quickly brought my sweaty hand to my face, my right arm strangely weak. My face was smeared with sticky, half dried blood. “I don’t know, I swear I don’t know,” I answered, shaken by my discovery. “I just went to take a pee five minutes ago, see my watch says 3:05, I just signed the watch log at 3:00, at the top of the hour just like you said,” I told the site sergeant as I flexed my arms trying to get my strength back.
“Then you must have broken your watch when you fell because it is 6:05 not 3:05, howled the now amused site sergeant. “They are going to love this one back at the office. I am gonna enjoy watching you explain it to the shift commander,” he said with a thin, cruel grin. “Now go get cleaned up, the shift commander is on his way, you can explain everything to him.”
As I looked in the mirror of the guard shack bathroom, I saw that the blood was not just on my face but on my uniform shirt as well. That was one hell of a nosebleed; I thought worriedly, that had never happened before. When the urges came and I resisted, I usually just had a headache the next morning. But then I had not tried to resist the urges so hard for a long time.
To make matters worse my friend George was throbbing with pain making it hard to stand up straight. A closer look revealed bruises on my thighs, George and his two brothers were beet red and painful to the touch. What the hell is going on? Now I was really scared.
Suddenly there was no more time to clean up the shift commander had arrived. I hurriedly stuffed my shirt in back into my uniform pants, buckled my belt and smoothed my hair back as I got ready to face the shift commander. I got lucky, he did not fire me after I explained my side of the story and he saw the blood stains on my shirt.
“Sergeant,” he barked, “is all of the equipment accounted for and the warehouse secure?”
“Yes sir, it was on my last patrol,” answered the site sergeant.
“And what time was that?” he barked, glaring at the sergeant who visible wilted from its ferocity.
“03:00, SIR,” said the sergeant now standing at his sloppy version of attention.
“That was three hours ago sergeant you have a wounded man and an unsecured site. I suggest you find out if anything is missing or broken into. That might explain this man’s injuries!” barked the Shift Commander.
“YES SIR,” shouted the site sergeant tripping over himself in his haste to carry out the shift commander’s orders.
Turning his fierce gaze on me, his face softened just a little, “You have a seat until your relief arrives then I am taking you to the emergency room to get you checked out. If something is missing, you might have been attacked and the sheriff will want to talk to you.”
“I really don’t need to go to the emergency room Sir. It was just a nosebleed I think.” I answered, desperately thinking of a way to avoid the emergency room and the embarrassment of George’s injury.
“I don’t remember being attacked; in fact I don’t remember anything except needing to pee really badly. I only remember being gone 5 minutes and according to my watch that is all I was gone,” I said as I showed the shift commander my watch, which was exactly three hours slow.
The shift commanders face hardened and he gave me a long piercing stare, “That is a strange thing young man, very strange indeed. Is there anything you want to tell me son? Has this ever happened before?”
“No sir this is my first nosebleed and maybe my watch just quit, but I swear to you I was not sleeping,” I answered in a panic. Did he suspect something? If he found out about my urges he could make trouble for me. What am I going to do?
“Relax son, I believe you,” said the shift commander, his face softening again. “However if I get a report of you sleeping again I will fire you on the spot is that clear? I may still fire you; it depends on what the sergeant Shultz finds out. If anything is missing or broken into we have a real problem and I won’t be able to help you son. Are you absolutely sure there is nothing you want to tell me?” he asked as he studied my face intently.
“Yes sir, I already told you everything,” I said as earnestly as I could. That seemed to satisfy the shift commander, for the moment at least.
The shift commander’s line of questioning was interrupted by the return of the site sergeant. “SIR,” he said as he came to attention in front of the shift commander, panting, out of breath from his exertions, “All of the equipment is accounted for and the supply depot is secure.”
“Then I suggest you get started on that incident report mister. I expect it on my desk by the beginning of your next shift. IS THAT CLEAR Corporeal Timson?” thundered the shift commander
“Its sergeant Timpson sir,” sputtered the site sergeant.
“If you ever fuck up like this again it won’t be sergeant any more. Do I make myself clear,” said the shift commander.
“Crystal clear, sir,” moaned the much subdued site sergeant, for he was quite proud of his stripes, being the petty tyrant that he was.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the emergency room son,” the shift commander asked me.
“Yes Sir, I am,” I answered copying the site sergeant’s military manor.
“Then carry on the both of you,” barked the shift commander.
After I got home, I stripped off my blood stained uniform and threw it in the washer and showered getting ready for bed. As I lay on the bed tossing and turning, I started wondering what really happened in the woods last night.
That immediately started the knot on the back of my head tingling again; the buzzing and stabbing pains would not be far behind. I quickly thought about something else, anything but what happened last night. Once the tingling quit, I fell into a fitful sleep.
As the world around me spun into focus, I realized I was lying flat on a cold metal table, shivering, with painfully bright lights shining in my eyes. I could feel my body but I was unable to move it. I was held in place, only able to move my eyes. I could three dark figures with huge eyes looking down at me, watching me. I could hear someone screaming in the distance.
With a start I woke up covered in sweat, I knew I had been the one screaming. I immediately felt a stab from the knot in the back of my head causing my body to spasm, doubling up in pain.
The pain got even worse as I tried to remember why I was screaming and who was watching me. Then my nose started to trickle blood and I stumbled into the bathroom to grab a washcloth to stop the bleeding.
Once the bleeding stopped I dragged myself into the shower. I had to be at work in a couple of hours and I still had to dry my uniform and wash my bed sheets as well. I knew I could not go to the doctor, they would ask too many questions. With that thought, the pain receded to the familiar tingling from the knot.
I don’t know what to do, or who I could tell that would believe me. Mom would insist I go to the doctor, especially if she found out about George’s pain. My brother was too young to help, even if I told him, no one would believe him either, he really was too young to help. My sister was too far away; she was away at college in another state. If I told Dad he would think it was just another one of my wild tales.
I am alone, confused and very scared. What was happening to me? Why was I so different? Angry and frustrated I pounded my fists into the bathroom sink, bruising my hands. I will find out what is going on!
That thought doubled me up with the worst pain I have ever felt and I collapsed on the bathroom floor, hitting my head on the john on the way down. It was over an hour later before I finally regained conscientious. I glanced at my watch, I barley have enough time to dry my uniform and make it to work on time I realized as I slowly and painfully got to my feet to clean up.
I did not feel any better until I fired up my baby girl and laid a patch of rubber at the end of the driveway, again. The neighbors always complained to the cops, but tonight I don’t give a shit.
My second shift at the construction site passed as quietly as the darkness that surrounded me while I manned the gate, broken only by the beam of my mag lite and the occasional scurrying rat. Sargent Schultz, as the shift commander called him, avoided me all night, never speaking a word to me.
I was really tired when I got home so I went straight to bed, falling immediately into a deep sleep. I slept undisturbed by dreams until my alarm went off ten hours later. I made my way into the bathroom to shower, wondering if my nose had bled during the night. I was relieved to see it had not.
I felt like a new man once I stepped out of the shower. Mom had made me a plate of leftovers and packed my lunch. I was famished so I wolfed down the leftovers before I left. Mom always hated it when I did that at the supper table but she and my brother were both presumably in bed and asleep.
I had half an hour to kill so I decided to take my baby girl for a little run on the interstate. As I passed the only all night diner right off I-95, I saw all four of the state troopers assigned to patrol this stretch of interstate parked in the parking lot. It was shift change, the state troopers were all at the diner in search of hot coffee and fresh doughnuts, leaving my favorite stretch of interstate unpatrolled, much to my delight.
120 mph read the speedometer as I exited the southbound entrance ramp. My baby girls exhaust echoing off the concrete walls, then 130 then 140 read the speedometer. The tri power carbs were beginning to really snarl before I backed off the gas. I love this car! 140 mph and she is begging to be let off the leash.
I was tempted; all I had to do was shift into forth gear. Speeds like that always made my troubles go away if only for a short while. The thrill of cheating death and no ticket was just what I needed. I had a grin on my face when I idled up my new post.
My new assignment was a solitary guard post with an hourly patrol of the fence protecting a new Chevrolet dealership. I spent the next several hours looking over the new cars and trucks in between my patrols. None of them could catch my baby girl I thought proudly, not even that shiny new Corvette inside the showroom.
I returned from my forth patrol to find the shift supervisor waiting for me at the front gate. He was looking at my baby girl, giving her the once over. She wasn’t much to look at but she hauled ass that was for sure.
“You think you can beat that new vette?” he asked me, a grin on his craggy face.
“No sir, I know I can. That vette only runs high eleven’s and that’s on slicks. My baby girl runs ten fives on street tires,” I boasted quietly.
“No shit, low ten’s? What the hell have you got under that hood?” he said a look of disbelief in his eyes. I just grinned and popped my baby girl’s hood.
I kept my baby girls engine spotless, her chrome gleamed in the harsh glare of the parking lot lights. He let out a whistle, “Damn that’s pretty! Is that the original Rocket 350? “He asked.
“Yes and no,” I answered, “Dad and I had started to restore her before the divorce. We had the original, stock, Rocket 350 block relieved and blueprinted; boring the cylinders until they matched perfectly, line boring the crankshaft journals and decking the block.”
“We started the engine mods with a set of Pro Comp aluminum 77cc chamber cylinder heads we had CNC ported, polished and flowed,” I explained, “Then we fitted the heads with Manning 2.07 intake valves and 1.90 exhausts valves. We matched the intake ports to the flowed Offenhouser tri-power manifold and topped it with three tricked out and flowed Holly 500 cfm two barrel carbs.”
“We put in a .600/.580 roller cam with matched, powder coated, triple springs to get the perfect seat pressure,” I continued. “Then we put in billet, flat top pistons with valve reliefs milled out, billet connecting rods and a billet crank. To finish out the job we had the reciprocating mass balanced to 10,000 rpm.”
“When we finished with the motor we installed a Chassis Engineering front suspension and put Wildwood disc brakes all the way around. Then we back halved the body and welded in a 10 point chrome molly roll cage. We bullet proofed the Muncie 4 speed and hung a Chassis Engineering 4 link suspension with a narrowed, Trac-Lok Dana 60 rear end with a 3.72 ratio fitted with Strange 35 spline axels as the finishing touch”, I said proudly.
“I have seen you around town. I knew you had had some engine work done but not that much. Fire it up for me! I have never heard it close up!” The shift supervisor asked with a very large grin.
“My name is Pete by the way,” he said, thrusting out his right hand. “Just don’t call me that in front of the men”.
“No sir I won’t… my friends call me Bon” I answered, shaking his hand. I slipped behind the wheel and just bumped the ignition. My baby girl rumbled to life quickly settling into her perfect lumpy idles, much to the delight of my new friend Pete.
The knot on the back of my head suddenly began to tingle and I felt that familiar urge to be alone. I resisted, not now! I was making a friend. If Pete found out about my urges, he would think I was weird just like everybody else did and they didn’t know about the urges.
The tingling quickly turned to buzzing, followed immediately by a sharp bolt of pain down my neck, still I resisted. Sharper, harder, came the pain, ripping through my head until I doubled up, falling out of my baby girl’s driver seat and hitting the rough surface of the parking lot hard, face down. My nose was bleeding again and not just a trickle this time it was a virtual flood.
Pete was standing over me I could see the concern on his face even through the red flashes of pain. He was calling someone on the radio. NO! I scream thought as that familiar spinning darkness took me.
I woke up in the emergency room surrounded by doctors and wearing only a hospital gown. Seeing that I was awake the nurse said, “Relax Bon you are going to be fine, your mom is on the way, she will be here very soon”, giving me a reassuring pat on the back of my free hand, the other one full of needles, a maze of tubes leading to an iv bags.
“What happened?” I asked.
“We don’t know for sure,” said one of the several doctors standing around me who were all busy reading my test results, “We do know that you are severely dehydrated and you have lost a bit of blood. Not enough for a transfusion but enough to keep you off your feet for a day or two.”
“What concerns me”, said the youngest Dr. in the group “is the bruising on and around your genitals. You are a lucky young man that must be one rambunctious girlfriend you have!” he said with a leer and a wink
“I don’t have a girlfriend anymore,” I mumbled, shame sweeping over me, they knew!
Giving me a stern look one of the older doctors said, “Then I suggest you stop doing whatever it is you are doing before you cause permanent damage you will regret when you get to be my age.”
I didn’t know what to say. Fortunately for me, mom came hurrying into the examining room, saving me the pain of any further explanation.
“Are you alright son?” she asked with tears in her eyes, ignoring the crowd of doctors, kissing me on gently on my forehead, brushing back my hair putting her hands on either side of my face.
“You probably should ask them mom,” I answered, even more upset after seeing how shaken up she was.
“Well, what is wrong with him?” she demanded of the group of doctors, her hands on her hips, her feathers were defiantly ruffled. “Well, speak up” she demanded after an awkward silence.
“Ms. Scott,” began the doctor in charge of the group, “I am Dr. Jones and I am in charge of emergency room admissions.”
“Good for you Dr. Jones, your mother must be very proud. I will ask you again what is wrong with my son,” she demanded sternly, already out of patience.
“To be honest Ms. Scott other than a severe nosebleed and moderate dehydration we can find nothing wrong with your son,” answered Dr. Jones.
I breathed a sigh of relief he had not mentioned George’s injuries sparing me that embarrassment at least. Completely undeterred Mom said in her quiet angry voice, the one she only used when she was really mad, “Just what do you mean nothing is wrong with him. What caused the nosebleed?”
“At first we thought it was heavy cocaine use,” said the youngest of the doctors, “because of the chronic damage to his nasal passages. However, the drug screen came back negative. It would appear that something quite large was forced up his nose and into his sinus cavities at a young age and repeatedly afterwards.
Oh no I thought here comes the news about George. I was going over in my mind just how I was going to explain that to mom. I need not have worried, just the mention of drug use sent my mom into a rage and she gave the doctors the tongue-lashing she thought they all deserved.
Finally, Dr. Jones held up his hands stopping her tirade.
“He is fine Ms. Scott. Why don’t you take your son home and discuss the matter in private. We all have patients to see that really need our help. I strongly advise drug counseling,” he said as he handed my mom a business card for a drug rehab program. I winced inwardly, you could see the steam coming out of moms ears she was so mad.
It was a long, quiet and extremely uncomfortable ride to go and retrieve my baby girl with mom simmering in the drivers’ seat.
“Mom I don’t do drugs. You heard the doctor say the drug test was clean”. I said trying to defuse the explosion I knew was not far off.
She turned and looked at me with fury in her eyes. I didn’t know what else to say. As suddenly as the anger had appeared, it left and moms face softened “I believe you son. I won’t tell your dad this time, but if this happens again you will have to find someplace else to live. Is that clear son?”
“I don’t do drugs mom,” I insisted stubbornly, “I drink beer instead. I tried cocaine once at a party but I don’t like the way it made me feel,” I said quietly and firmly
“Well thank goodness for that”, she retorted, her anger returning.
The arrival at my baby girl’s location prevented any more conversation as I beat a hasty retreat. “You had better go straight home. Is that clear young man?” Mom said through her open window. I should have known that she would get the last word she always does. “Yes mom” I answered hurriedly, the tingling had started again and it quickly turned to a sharp pain.
Seeing my face go suddenly white from the pain, mom asked, “Are you all right son?”
“I just have a bit of a headache. If you don’t mind I would like to take my baby girl for a ride to clear my head.”
“Ok,” she said, “but you come straight home after and don’t be out too late, And no racing, is that clear!” she scolded.
“Yes mom,” I answered.
I pulled out of the parking lot onto US 1 north bound, careful not to stomp on the gas in front of mom, no matter how bad I wanted too, and headed for Okeechobee rd. and the outskirts of town.
Once I got clear of the city traffic, I opened up my baby girl’s three carbs and listened with pleasure as her low moan quickly became the vicious howl of an angry animal as she tried to go sideways, lighting up the tires as I shifted into second gear, surging forward, begging to me to let her run wild.
When I let my baby girl run free for a bit it always made me grin like a crazy man. The only thing I loved more was showing a new hot rod in town my baby girl’s taillights. Now THAT made me happy, it also got me into trouble on a regular basis.
Some of those old boys did not take kindly to losing their hard-earned money to some young punk. If you can’t pay you shouldn’t play is what I say about that.
I soon found myself at my alone spot. I shut down my baby girl and just sat there, waiting for something, I have no idea what, but this is what I was supposed to be doing to keep the pain away. My eyes quickly got heavy and I nodded off.
I woke with a start and looked at my watch. SHIT it was 6:38 am, I had slept three hours. Mom was going to be pissed at me that was for sure, because she told me to go straight home after my ride. I bumped the starter and my baby girl roared to life. Then I hauled ass home, preparing myself for the ass chewing that was surely waiting for me when I got there.
Mom was not up waiting for me, which shocked me. I winced inwardly knowing that she would really give it to me when she saw me later. I was exhausted so I crawled straight into bed and fell instantly into a deep sleep, without feeling my head hit the pillow.
I woke up screaming, disorientated and drenched in sweat. I had been dreaming about being on that cold steel table again, only this time I could move my head. I saw someone else on the table next to me, a girl. IT WAS DEENA!!! As I watched three little gray, man like creatures were inserting what looked like surgical interments into her, she was screaming
“No! Please stop! Please stop, it hurts!” she pleaded.
The creatures did not seem to care she was in pain and they did not stop. I furiously tried to break free of my restraints, attracting one or the little gray men’s attention. It produced a wand from the sleeves of its floor length tunic made of some silvery reflective material, a rod with a glowing tip. Slowly, closer it came, my terror building the closer it got. Until it pressed the now red glowing tip to my forehead and blackness instantly took me.
My brother and mom both burst into my room at the same time yelling, “What’s wrong?” I started to tell them about my dream but the knot sent a sharp pain ripping through my skull, my hand instinctively going to the knot, it was swollen and pulsing.
“I just had a bad dream I’m sorry I woke you both.” I answered, stuttering from the pain.
Mom gave me a stern look and said firmly, “Get up and get showered and dressed, we have to talk.” As I swung my legs off the bed and stood up, the pain hit me like a living thing, knocking the wind out of me, causing me to slump to the floor. George and his two brothers were in agony. Gasping for breath, I tried to remember why. The spinning darkness took me, thankfully ending the pain.
I woke up in a strange bed, naked, except for a hospital gown. I tried to move my arms as they had fallen asleep at an odd angle. I realized that my arms and my legs were strapped to the bed.
What the hell is going on? Where in the hell am I? DEENA! What are they doing to Deena! I have to rescue her, I thought as I furiously pulled at the straps enraged. I slowly realized I was not on the steel table. It was useless to try and get free, wherever I was, I was here to stay.
My activities must have alerted someone because a very large man in a white uniform unlocked the door and poked his head inside the windowless room,
“Relax the doctor will see you soon”. Then he closed the door and I heard the snick of a deadbolt. I am defiantly here to stay, I thought, giving the straps one last yank before resigning myself to being completely helpless.
It wasn’t long before a young man not much older than me, wearing a rumbled and stained doctor’s smock, his hair uncombed and wild, his five o’clock shadow very dark, came to see me. His arrival was announced by the snick of the deadbolt. Another big burly guard in a white uniform, caring a nightstick on his belt escorted him. I was scared shitless to say the least.
“My name is Dr. Merkquack, I understand your friends call you Bon. May I call you Bon?” he asked.
I just glared at him suddenly angrier than I had ever been in my life. If I could get loose, I would kill this bastard!
“Come now what harm will it do to answer me?” he said as his faced pinched in a frighteningly vile attempt at a smile.
I realized that the more I fought the longer I would be strapped to this bed. I swallowed my anger and my pride and answered, “Yes, you can call me Bon.”
“Now that’s better the sooner you cooperate the sooner we can take off those nasty restraints. So let’s be a good boy shall we,” said Dr. Merkquack in his most soothing and professional manner. “Do you know where you are Bon?” he asked.
“No sir I don’t,” I answered, twisting in the straps trying to get comfortable, slowly regaining some circulation in my arms.
“Well Bon, you are in St John’s Sanitarium. You were brought here three days ago unconscious, dehydrated and badly bruised by someone or something unknown. Would you like to talk about it now?” he asked.
“I don’t know what happened,” I answered as shame swept over me.
“You have no memory of what happened to you?” He asked.
“No sir I don’t,” I repeated firmly, anger creeping into my voice.
“Ok Bon there is no need to get upset I am here to help you,” he said as he scribbled in his notebook.
“I see here that your toxin screens all came back clean. So what have you been using to get high? Something the screen doesn’t check for I would imagine,” Dr. Merkquack said as he paused his scribbling.
“I don’t get high on anything,” I said quietly.
“Interesting,” Dr. Merkquack said as he scribbled in his notebook. “Then how do you explain your being here,” he asked.
“The last thing I remember is waking up screaming and then passing out from the pain. Then I woke up here.” I answered carefully, desperate not to start the knot on the back of my head from starting the pain again.
“What do you remember about what happened after you left the emergency room to go and get your car?” He asked.
“I took my baby girl for a ride and I fell asleep parked in the place I go to when I get upset,” I answered knowing that if I thought about it anymore the pain would come quick and hard.
“How do you explain the severe genital bruising,” he asked. “Your mom said you broke up with your baby girlfriend recently.”
“I can’t remember, when I try to remember the pain comes,” I explained.
“Interesting,” he said as he scribbled furiously.
“What pain? And what baby girl did you take for a ride” he asked.
“I call my car my baby girl because she is the only one who really loves me. The pain is from the knot on the back of my head,” I answered relieved that my secret was finally out in the open.
“Interesting, Show me where this knot is,” Dr. Merkquack said as he closed his notebook and stood up.
“This knot right here,” I said as my hand instinctively went to the now tingling knot.
As Dr. Merkquack gently felt the back of my head he said, “I don’t feel anything unusual. In fact, I feel no knot at all. Are you sure that is the right spot Bon?” he asked.
“Yes sir, its right here. Why can’t you feel it?” I said getting angry again.
“Ok Bon I believe you. I am going to order a CT scan to see if there is something I am not seeing. We will know more after the scan. That is enough for now. I will check in on you later,” Dr. Merkquack said reassuringly.
“When are you going to take these straps off? I asked.
“Once we determine you are no longer a danger to yourself or the staff we will take the straps off,” he answered briskly, “Until then they only come off when it is time to go to the restroom and at meal and bath time. Now I will see you later, try and get some rest Bon.” And suddenly he was gone, followed by the snick of the deadbolt. I am locked in a windowless room, strapped to a bed in a mental hospital, I cried myself to sleep, scared and alone.
I was on the steel table again, naked and shivering from the cold. There were no eyes watching me this time and I could move my head. I turned my head to the right and I could see Deena lying on her right side facing the wall, her back to me, naked and either sleeping or unconscious.
I tried to call her name but my mouth was full of cotton and my throat was very sore and dry, all I could manage was a horse croak, Deena didn’t move. I tried again and managed to call her name, “Deena,” I croaked, still no response. Mustering all of my strength and will, I managed to shout “Deena”, still no response.
Then I heard a noise that sent chills down my spine, the sound of a metal door rolling smoothly open. They were coming! I broke out in a cold sweat of fear as I struggling to get free. Suddenly I couldn’t move my head anymore, and a pair of huge black eyes looked down at me.
It was one of the gray creatures! I heard someone screaming in terror in the distance. I watched frozen as a red tipped wand approached my face. When it touched my forehead, the blackness took me just as I realized, I was the one screaming.
Dr. Merkquack was slapping my face trying to wake me as I lurched violently back into this reality, my mind still spinning. I was strapped in the hospital bed, not the metal table, there was no huge eyes staring down at me. I slowly unclenched my body realizing I was safe from the little gray men.
Slowly I regained control of myself, finding my bed sheets soaked in sweat and my nose bloody. “That must have been some nightmare Bon, care to tell me about it while it’s still fresh in your mind?” Dr. Merkquack asked as he scribbled on his ever-present note pad.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I said sullenly.
“Don’t be so sure Bon I have heard many strange nightmares here at St. John’s,” answered Dr. Merkquack with his vile attempt at a compassionate smile.
“I can’t remember and if I could it would bring the pain,” I retorted.
“Ah yes the pain from the knot on the back of your head,” said Dr. Merkquack. “What if I told you there is no knot on the back of your head Bon. The CT scan showed nothing unusual. In fact, I think you are suffering from an intense psychotic delusion. I am not sure what has caused it but I will find out I promise you,” he said quite confidently as he stood up, closed his notebook and motioned for the guard to unlock the door.
“The nurse is going to give you a sedative to help you sleep with no more nightmares. I will check in on you in the morning. Perhaps then we can discuss the knot on your head. Until then I am ordering that you remain in restraints. Good night Bon,” he said as the nurse entered the room carrying a large hypodermic.
“Just relax Bon, if you fight me it will only hurt worse, I promise you,” the nurse said with a firm yet wary smile as she bared my right buttock. As I looked away I couldn’t help but notice she had such a strange glint in her eye, she seemed to be enjoying my pain.
I tried to relax as I felt the sting of the hypodermic entering my bare butt cheek. Within seconds my eyelids felt so heavy that I couldn’t keep them open any longer. I faintly heard the nurse say, “That’s a good boy Bon, Don’t fight me and we will get along just fine”, just before the drug induced darkness took me.
“Bon,” I heard a familiar female voice say far off in the distance. Slowly I struggled my way through the drug-induced murk of semi-contentiousness trying desperately to reach her. “Bon” the voice called again, closer this time. DEENA! I struggled harder toward the voice; full contentiousness was almost in my grasp.
Finally, I opened my eyes and saw a blurry vision of female loveliness. DEENA! She was here! As I blinked from the bright light my eyes slowly came back into focus and my heart sank, it was the nurse with the strange glint in her eyes.
“Welcome back Bon,” she said, “It’s time for your breakfast. Then I will be giving you a sponge bath and then if you are a good boy you will be ready to meet some of the other patients,” she said with a phony sweetness. I instantly felt the fear of a caged animal, one with which I had become quite familiar with these last few days here at St Johns.
“I am not hungry and the doctor said I could bathe myself,” I mumbled thickly still suffering from the effects of the Thorazine. “A big, young, strapping boy like you,” she said her eyes strangely bright. “I think you would enjoy a sponge bath so much more,” she said as she licked her lips and ran her hand down my bare leg,
“All of the other big, strong, boys look forward to my sponge baths. Now be a good boy and eat your breakfast or I will have to restrain you and feed you before your bath,” the nurse said, her cheeks and neck flushed, her eyes dilated and her nipples visibly hardening under her short white dress. I could smell her excitement and I guessed she wasn’t wearing any panties.
“I can wash myself,” I said, a little clearer this time. I was in love with Deena and this crazy bitch could go to hell.
“Then I will just have to keep you restrained. Dr. Merkquack says if you become uncooperative, I am to keep you restrained,” she said as she strapped the shackles over my wrists, her barley confined breasts in my face, rubbing them across my groin as she strapped my legs to the bed.
“There now that is so much better,” she said her large nipples now clearly straining against her uniform shirt.
Slowly she ran her hand up my thigh and under my hospital gown. “Do you want your bath first or your breakfast first?” she whispered, her breathing heavy, her cheeks flushed with excitement.
“I think your bath first,” she said as her hand reached and cupped George and his two friends gently. George responded immediately becoming instantly hard. “Oh my, you are a big boy,” she giggled, smiling as she slowly stroked George’s full length, lingering on his head. All I could do was moan from the pleasure. She stopped suddenly,
“Not yet my big boy,” she cooed, her breath coming short and fast as she unbuttoned her blouse and unhooked her bra, revealing a pair of the most perfect tits I had ever seen. George was throbbing now as I watched her wiggle out of her skirt.
I had been right, she was not wearing any panties, and her privates shaved smooth except for a small patch of blond hair, leaving no doubt that she was a natural blonde. All I could do was stare.
“You like?” she asked playfully as she turned, showing me her exquisitely heart shaped ass, wiggling it in my face. I was dizzy with desire, her scent enslaving me. George was purple and pounding painfully.
A sharp rap on the door interrupted her strip tease. She peeked out of the small window in the door and giggled. Turning to me she whispered, “It’s the big bad wolf. I have to let him in.” With a snick of the deadbolt, the door opened and in came the tall burly orderly with the nightstick.
After he turned and locked the door, he swept the naked nurse up in his arms, kissing her passionately. Once they were finished kissing, he immediately dropped his pants. As she put on his condom I noticed his erection was much smaller than mine. For such a big guy he sure has a small pecker I thought.
The nurse grabbed him around the neck and straddled him while he stood. He grabbed her ass and pressed her against the wall where he started pumping her in and out, hard and fast. The nurse was looking over his shoulder at me, smiling while she moaned, licking her lips. The fact that I was watching seemed to excite her even more.
It wasn’t long before the guard moaned loudly, gasped, and then shuttered, climaxing violently. The nurse waited a moment then unwound her legs from around the orderly, kissed him on the lips.
“You need to get back before someone notices you are not at your station,” ordered the nurse.
The orderly turned and looked at me,
“She’s all yours now, just remember I had her first,” he gloated as he buttoned his pants, unlocked the door and left, leaving me alone with the nurse.
“Now, where were we,” the nurse cooed as she pulled my hospital gown up so she could get a good look at George, who was still blue and throbbing.
“That looks so painful,” she whispered her breath again rapid and short, her nipples at full attention,
“Here, let me help,” she said as she slipped George in between her perfect lips. I exploded almost instantly shuttering, climaxing harder than I ever had before. When I was finished the nurse raised her head and licked her lips.
As she started dressing she said, “This is how I treat my good boys. But big John always has to go first or he will tell the doctor and I will get in trouble. You don’t want me to get in trouble do you?” she said pretending to pout.
Still panting I shook my head no, still unable to speak.
“Good,” she said as she finished dressing, “Now, let me give you your bath and then you have to eat all of your breakfast, OK? Because big John gives the bad boys their bath and I don’t think you will like it very much.”
“After breakfast the doctor will want to see you. I wouldn’t mention this to him, he is my husband and the jealous sort,” she said with a giggle, my bath and breakfast complete. “See you tomorrow tiger,” she said as she rapped on the door to be let out.
I let out a huge gush of air once she was gone, sinking my head into my pillow putting my hands over my eyes. That’s just great I thought to myself. Not only am I in the loony bin I just got the best blowjob of my life from my doctor’s wife. I am never getting out of here! What next, I wondered, I shouldn’t have.
Nurse Oriole and security officer Johnson report to Dr. Merkquack’s office right away, blared over the St John’s intercom. “That didn’t take long,” muttered orderly Johnson to Nurse Oriole as they joined up in the hall leading to the Dr.’s office.
“Don’t worry silly, the good Dr. just wants a report on the patient’s therapy. As if he didn’t know already. He always tapes sexual therapy sessions, he likes to watch them later, in private,” she whispered. “Sometimes he lets me watch with him,” she added with a smile. “Except of course the ones you do late at night with the younger boys and your night stick,” she whispered, “those he keeps for himself.”
“Then he doesn’t care about what we do?” muttered orderly Johnson in disbelief.
“No silly he doesn’t” she answered with a giggle, “He only likes boys, the younger the better, he just keeps me around for kicks, public appearances and the therapy I love to give” nurse Oriole answered with another giggle. “I mean think about how it would look if the board of directors found out that the renowned St John’s Sanitarium was run by a homosexual pedophile.”
It was early the next morning, before breakfast that the orderly came for me and wheeled me, still strapped into the bed, out the door and down the hall and past a wing full of patients. I had never been to this side of the hospital. All the patients in this wing were locked in their rooms.
Some were having conversations with themselves; some were moaning with absolute despair, others were pounding on the door, screaming in terror. I had no idea what was in store for me in this part of the hospital. The orderly paused outside of a procedure room, waiting on something.
After a couple of minutes the lights went dim for a second and the screams from inside the room stopped and the deadbolt snick announced an impending departure. That meant my turn was next.
I was shaking with fear as the door opened and another orderly wheeled out an unconscious patient who was also strapped to a bed. As my orderly wheeled me into the room, I realized why the other patient had been screaming, this was the electrical shock treatment room and it was time for my first treatment.
As the orderly strapped the electrodes on to my head I promised myself that if I ever get out of here I will kill Dr. Merkquack for this. That helped my fear a little.
“Open your mouth and let me put this in, it will keep you from breaking your teeth during therapy. If you bite me I will up the dosage of your treatment and that will cause cardiac arrest and you will die if I don’t bring you back. I will bring you back so I can kill you again if you try to bite me again. Remember that when it is time for your next treatment. You only get two chances. I will not bring you back the third time. You will be just another patient who died during treatment,” snarled the orderly, an evil, manic glint in his eyes.
I opened my mouth and let the orderly stuff the rope in none too gently. I added him to my list of people I will hunt down and kill if I ever get out of here. That was my last thought as the current raced through my body, causing my body to arch, convulsing in agony. I was barley holding on to this reality when the second shock caused me to convulse in an agony even worse than the first shock, then thankfully the blackness came.
I woke in terror, my breath ragged, covered in sweat and until I realized I was back in my room and no more shocks would be coming. Suddenly the knot on my head started to burn with a pain that caused flashes of light in my eyes and I screamed in agony. “Please just kill me” I pleaded to the empty room as tears ran down my face and I clawed frantically to get out of my restraints. No one came to comfort me because no one in this place cared if I lived, they certainly could care less if I was scared, alone and crying like a little baby.
It has been six months since my last pain attack and nosebleed and Dr. Merkquack said I could go home today. I did not know what to expect when I was released. The social stigma of having a relative in St John’s had kept my extended family away. I had no money and no place to go. I didn’t even know the whereabouts of my car or if anyone would be waiting for me on the other side of the front door.
None of that mattered, I was getting the hell out of this place today and nothing was going to stop me. I will take the rest one day at a time. I was just thankful the pain and nosebleeds had stopped. Now maybe I could start a new life, one not controlled by what Dr. Merkquack called an imaginary pain. I will miss my sponge baths I thought as I walked toward the front door of St John’s Sanitarium home for the mentally ill.
I had no idea who, if anyone would be waiting for me. Mom married a rich Australian she met when out man trolling while I was in St John’s. She and my brother and sister were moving to Australia and would send for me when I got out. After they left for the airport her letters stopped. I thought it was just a post office thing, for the first two weeks.
After the third week of not hearing from her, I confronted Dr. Merkquack. “I was waiting until you were recovered completely from your electro therapy before I told you,” he said, “The plane your family was on was lost at sea. Their plane exploded in an assassination of you new father in law over a business deal gone badly. I am sorry to have waited so long to tell you but I didn’t feel you were up to the pain of such a loss. I can order a sedative if you feel you need one,” he said with his hand on my shoulder with his vile attempt at a compassionate smile on his face.
“I’m ok doc, I knew, I don’t know how but I already knew, If you don’t mind I would like to stay here on the balcony and watch the moon rise until lights out. I need to say my good byes” I asked as tears started running down my face as grief slowly washed over me.
Release time was finally here! This time I walk out the front door a free man. As the huge door swung shut behind me I stood frozen in place, shocked by who was waiting for me outside. It was Deena and she was driving my baby girl!
With a squeal of excitement when she saw me, Deena launched herself toward me, grabbing me in a fierce bear hug plastering my face with kisses. Finally, she slowed down and locked me in a deep kiss of pure passion. The world faded as I returned her kiss, losing myself to her passion, forgetting everything else.
When we finally came up for air, Deena said “Let’s get you home and feed you some good food.”
“Where is home?” I asked.
“I have an apartment here in town we can use until we decide where we want to go,” she answered as she handed me the keys to my baby girl.
“No more questions until we get home” she said firmly.
I slid behind my baby girls steering wheel with a huge grin on my face and bumped the ignition, my baby girl roared to life then settled into her perfect lumpy idle. For the first time in an eternity, I smiled in anticipation of letting my baby girl run off the leash again.
As I swung onto the deserted highway that led to St John’s, I stomped on the accelerator and my baby girl growled like a chained beast that had finally been set free, exploding down the highway, rear tires smoking. “Woohoo!!!!” screamed Deena as I speed shifted into second, breaking the rear tires loose and flicking my baby girls tail out for a second time.
I was so caught up in the thrill that when I looked down at the speedo it read 138 mph. I immediately hit the brakes, we were approaching the interstate traffic and this was a 40 mph speed zone. If Johnny law caught me, they would throw us both in jail. I just got out of one type of prison; I was not going to end up in another one, ever.
Aboard the alien space ship the male Nenich slave approached the private chamber of the Skreei mission commander with dread. He had been unable to reestablish contact with the male test subject. Their entire scientific mission was dependent upon that genetically compatible male and his female.
If the slave had lost control over the subject, he knew he and his family would be executed once the ship returned to the Skreei home world for his failure. With a shaking hand, the gray slave rang the door chime and announced his arrival.
“Enter,” bid a stern high pitched command from behind the door. The slave waited, kneeling, waiting to be acknowledged by his master, who was finishing her daily cleansing ritual.
When the Skreei commander finally emerged from her bathing chamber the slave was nearly ready to faint from anxiety, stress being the weakness of his race. “Have you been able to reacquire the human male subject?” she asked.
“No mistress, I have not. We have lost the female human as well”, answered the terrified slave from the formal submission position, his neck exposed, hoping the Skreei commander would not slash his throat with her killing claw and would instead spare his life despite his failures.
The Skreei commander, her killing claws involuntary twitching such was her displeasure stared at the obviously terrified slave. What should I do? Tradition demands I execute this slave immediately for its failure. The only thing stopping me is the fact that this slave is the best science tech I have on this mission. Its loss will cause a failure of my genetic research mission.
If I fail I will never again get government funds or permission to continue my research for the cure of the scourge virus. That virus is slowly killing my mate and all of the Elder males on the home world. I am illegally conducting research on an invasive species on one of Slarm the Goren King of the Galaxy forbidden garden planets called Earth.
The elders are so desperately seeking a viable genetic candidate for hybridization that if I am successful the Elders will not care where I obtained a compatible genetic match. This was the most promising species I have located and I am out of time, supplies and fuel.
“Make ready to move forward one star rotation into this planet’s future and then attempt to reacquire the test subjects. If you do not I will execute you and your family when we return to Skreei. Now go and carry out my orders,” she said dismissing the trembling and weeping slave.
“Yes mistress,” said the gray slave as it slunk out of its master’s quarters.
Once we got to Deena’s apartment and parked my baby girl in the garage, she started making supper. After supper as we relaxed, cuddling on a sofa built for two, sipping a very nice sweet California Riesling, she whispered in my ear, “Those dreams about the steel table, I have them too,” she said, startling me.
I had spent the last six months trying to convince Dr. Merkquack and the Dr.’s at St Mary’s and more importantly convincing me that the steel table and the little grey men were just a figment of my imagination.
“Only I see you on a table next to me. I haven’t had the pain in over six months. I also have something to show you. Children, come out it, is time and to meet your father”, she said.
I was frozen in place, absolutely stunned by what Deena just said. As I first laid eyes on the twins, tears of joy came to my eyes. I had a family! “Hello father,” they said in unison in an oddly flat and unemotional voice.
“Now go to your room and work on your equations, Daddy and I need to a have a talk in private,” Deena urged.
“Yes mother,” they answered in unison with the same lack of emotion as they filed out the door perfectly in sync with each other’s movements.
Once we were alone Deena said, “Don’t get attached, they are hybrids and they will be leaving for their other genetic half’s home planet very soon.”
“How could this have happened? Those kids are at least 10 years old!” I said in disbelief.
“Those kids are only six months old. I found out I was pregnant just before I kicked you out. I got scared, I’m sorry,” said Deena with her eyes moistening soon followed by tears.
“I tried to see you while I was pregnant, to explain,” She said softly as she held me tightly, her head buried in my chest, “But Dr. Merkquack wouldn’t let me. Before I realized what our children might be. After they were born and they started to grow so fast I knew I had to keep them hidden from everyone, especially the military.”
“I moved to West Palm Beach under a different name to have the babies. No one knows me there, so once the babies were born I moved back to Fort Pierce. By that time, the twins were big enough to care for themselves during the day while I worked to get us a bankroll so we can start over somewhere where no one knows us.”Deena explained.
“The twins told me they are the last hope of reviving the genetic structure of the Skreei race,” she continued. “All males on the Skreei home world are born sterile and the few fertile males left are all slowly dying from a disease they call the scourge. That makes these two very valuable to the Skreei Queen. They will stop at nothing to obtain the twins. They will attack Earth destroying anything that gets in their way of getting the twins. To keep this from happening, the twins have agreed to go with the Skreei if they will not attack Earth. They leave tomorrow night to meet the Skreei ship.”
“Do you think they will keep their word?” I asked. My head spinning from the overload of reality bending facts I was trying to comprehend.”
“I hope so,” Deena whispered, “Cause there ain’t nothing we can do to stop’m, cause we are no match for their technology.”
The next morning Deena and I woke to find the twins already gone. Deena cried for the rest of the day.
“Mistress,” reported the Nenich slave, “As you ordered, the hybrids are aboard and in complete hibernation.”
“Prepare the probes to find another breeding pair,” ordered the mission commander, “one that matches the higher genetic profile. The Royals will want a hybrid from a purer bloodline.”
“But Mistress, you agreed to leave this planet once we had the hybrids” gasped her slave, “A Skreei cannot break a contract, it is forbidden!”
“Mind your place Nenich scum,” screeched the mission commander flying into a full blown rage, her killing claws held high in a striking position. How dare a mere Nenich slave tell me the Skreei laws of intergalactic commerce! “This planet is far too valuable to abandon over a promise to a primitive”, she screeched, sheathing her killing claws.
“Once word of our success spreads to the outer colonies,” she explained as she calmed herself, “they will destroy this planet in their greed for a longer life and I will not have broken a contract. I will just retire and collect the bounty of my discovery from my new estate on the home world.”
“Now terminate the current breeding pair before the authorities find them,” she ordered, “Reset your probes to find a match for the purer genetic profile, the royals will want their own bloodline. We must do this quickly so we can leave this planet before the other colonies scientists arrive or Slarm, KOG, finds out and sanitizes this planet in retaliation for our participation in the fight for an independent Galactic Alliance, free from his royal right to rule. You are dismissed slave.”
“As you wish mistress,” answered the Nenich slave as he slunk out of his master’s quarters to carry out her orders, thankful to be still alive, without any concern for the impending extinction of the two billion helpless beings on the planet below.
It had been six months of not being summoned to my alone place. I was working as a mechanic at a local gas station. Deena was a bar tender at the hottest night club in town, we were happy and doing well.
I was under a Cadillac doing an oil change when the tingling began. The twins told their mother that if we were summoned again it would be to terminate us.
My cell phone rang almost immediately after the tingling started, it was Deena, she must have the tingling to. If we failed to respond they would send an assassin to kill us.
“Bon we have to go. I already have the go bags and I will be there to meet up in ten minutes,” Deena said over the phone.
“I will be ready,” I answered, crawling out of the oil pit and headed to the manager, Randy’s, office.
“Randy, remember when you hired me I told you a day may come where I have to split with no explanation or warning, well that day is today,” I told him as I closed the door behind me.
“I am sorry to lose you Bon you are a good mechanic,” answered Randy as he reached for the cash box to pay me my wages.”Good luck and I hope one day you can stop running from whatever is chasing you.”
“Thanks Randy, I hope I can settle down one day,” I said as I wheeled my tools out to my baby girl.
“Your highness,” the Chief Scribe said gently, secretly hoping not to wake the sleeping KoG Slarm.
“Your highness,” he said a bit louder, he had to tell the KoG his favorite yellow sun garden planet was infested with a primitive A’nai culture and the S’kreei had found a cure to the sickness that doomed their society using the infestation as genetic donors.
“Your Highness,” the Chief Scribe said louder still and from a safe distance, successfully waking Slarm.
“What is so important that you interrupt my nap?” hissed Slarm.
“Sire,” reported the Chief Scribe, “The Skreei have developed a cure by hybridization.”
“Hybridization with what species?” hissed Slarm.
“A primitive civilization of A’nai has taken up residence on one of your yellow sun garden planets. That is where,” answered the Chief Scribe, pointing to the location on the map projector, waiting for the explosion of fury.
“Leave this to me, I will deal with it personally. Find the next volunteer for one way missions,” ordered Slarm KoG.
“Prepare an aerial spray of the Tiggerian Nymppooh, enough to ensure germination and a rapid growth cycle. Then equip a type 3 shuttle with a distribution system and an auto self destruct to be triggered once the Tiggerian Nymppooh has been deployed.” Slarm ordered the chief in charge of the KoG’s private black squadron’s avionics.
“Once the sterilization is complete and before the blooms mature into seed pods immediately deploy the killing agent. No pods must escape into space. The craft and its pilot must never leave the planet’s atmosphere. See to it personally or forfeit that fine family you have begun should I have to sanitize this quadrant of space,” hissed Slarm to the Royal Fleet Admiral over the long comm.
With the blue majesty of a water planet slowly filling the forward view screen, Mlloog forced himself to focus on his instruments, trying hard not to notice the planet’s incredible beauty.
Mlloog had been given the morally repugnant task of sterilizing one of Slarm the Gorn, King of the Galaxy’s, prized life planet gardens by KoG Slarm himself.
The fact that billions of sentient beings would perish on a whim of the KoG was pure evil and morally corrupt, fumed Mlloog. He began the scans anyway, his stomachs churning from his revulsion; he had no choice.
Mlloog frantically preened the fine hairs along his sensing knoggs to calm his agitation, his third arms shaking badly and weak from the anxiety of what he was about to do. Yet he must, for his entire family line was forfeit should he fail.
Mlloog dosed himself with the medication he had been given by the flight surgeon before launch. It calmed Mlloog instantly and he began his planned descent into the planet’s atmosphere.
No one defied a direct order from the KoG and lived. KoG Slarm’s penalty for failure of a royal mission was straight from Gorn tradition. Eat the entire family in front of the one who failed the King, before the guilty being became his next snack.
A preponderance of galactic bureaucracy was in place to ensure the KoG stayed in power for another reign of one thousand years. A bureaucracy riddled with greed and corruption, completely devoid of any concern for the good of the common citizen. The Royals and the rich elite enslaved the civilized planets with the fear of the brutal, and ruthlessly efficient, Royal Fleet.
Mlloog’s preliminary scans showed severe environmental damage within the planetary water bodies’ ecosystem and worldwide deforestation. This confirmed his long distance scout probe’s data. The entire aquatic food chain was on the brink of collapse, poisoned by radioactive isotopes from a leaking nuclear power generation units.
Repair estimates of 1000 solar rotations were in place to restore the Emperor’s beloved yellow star garden to the pristine condition he so prized, even with accelerated growth. Back to the condition before this species of humanoids invaded and defiled the planet.
Slarm will be extremely displeased, Mlloog thought, pitying the one who had to tell the KoG in person, relieved it had not be he.
“I am beginning visual planetary scans to assess damage caused by the humanoid infestation. Humanoids appear to be the remnants of an unknown A’nai refugee colony. They must have been attempting to restart their civilization after their home world was destroyed by the Ones. Technology failure appears to have perpetuated a downward social spiral, no evidence of known A’nai technology,” Mlloog spoke into the mission recorder.
“Visual scans confirm the massive infestation of a primitive A’nai colony is causing the environmental damage. Planetary water bodies are being poisoned by the leaking radioactive isotopes of a destroyed nuclear power generation facility built on an island of volcano peaks. Deforestation on a worldwide scale is causing irreversible changes to the atmosphere. Scans complete, beginning deployment of sterilizing agent two in aerial form,” Mlloog reported.
Sterilizing agent two was from one of KoG Slarm’s prized specimens, the only surviving Tiggerian Nymppooh left within the KoG’s vast domain. Its successful eradication and control was responsible for the 6,000 years of Slarm’s reign as King of the Galaxy.
Its release here furthered Slarm’s plans for this entire quadrant of the galaxy. The home worlds of three of the most powerful opposing senators in the Galactic Senate were in this quadrant.
Let this be a lesson to those who defy me was the King’s message to the opposing senators. For only KoG Slarm possessed the technology to kill the Tiggerian Nymppooh once it sprouted.
Hundreds of billions would die if even one of the Tiggerian Nymppooh’s space borne seed pods made it to any one of the neighboring, populated systems. Seeds formed when the larvae finished consuming all sentient life on the afflicted planet
Billions of seed pods were then propelled into space in an enormous release of methane gas after the entire food source was consumed: seed pods that would lie dormant as they traveled in space for thousands of years.
As the second equatorial orbit reached 20% complete, a red light alerted Mlloog to a problem with the primary dispersal nozzle.
“Switching to secondary external nozzle,” Mlloog said into the mission recorder. One can never be too careful when dealing with such a treacherous one as Slarm, he thought, these records may save my family’s life should my mission fail.
Once he got a green board Mlloog changed course to begin a polar orbit around Terra to finish maximum dispersion. Mlloog had no intention of failing for he was to be mated with his betrothed, Mgglloog, upon his return to Malcan Alpha.
Without warning the starboard rear quarter proximity alarm sounded, followed immediately by the port side: something was flanking his ship. Sensors indicated humanoid atmospheric craft had successfully evaded his sensors and were now in attack position with a weapons lock on his ship.
Their aerial technology is far more advanced than the probes reported, grimaced Mlloog. The sound of the collision alarm as he reached to activate his cloaking device and raise the defensive shields was the last thing Mlloog heard as his ship exploded, struck by a primitive humanoid weapon.
Bering Sea, 10 miles West of Hooper Bay, Alaska
“Base, this is Eagle 1; I have a visual of unidentified aircraft. Still no response to visual or radio signals, be advised unidentified craft is leaking some sort of vapor from a protrusion of some kind, on the belly of the craft.”
“Base to Eagle 1: You are authorized to fire, that craft cannot I repeat cannot reach the mainland.”
“Roger, Base I: Confirming weapons are hot, I have a lock, firing missiles 1 and 2.”
“Base, this is Eagle 1: Target has been destroyed, I repeat target destroyed; wreckage landing 10 clicks offshore. Launching marker beacon…. coming about for confirmation of buoy deployment…. I am getting a signal from buoy…deployment successful”
“Base to Eagle 1: Acknowledged, target destroyed, nice shooting, Eagle 1. Return to base, Stage 3 Decon protocol is in effect, precede to runway Alpha 1.”
“Roger, Base, Eagle 1 returning to base, runway Alpha 1 for decon.”
With bleary eyes, awakened from too short a nap, the President answered the emergency line. “What is it!” he snapped into the phone. Probably another one of the generals overacting again, they always think the barbarians are at the gates, he thought.
“Mr. President, there has been an Area 51 event off the coast of Alaska. An unidentified aircraft entered the atmosphere and began leaking some sort of vapor on its second planetary rotation. It has been successfully shot down in the Bering Sea, 10 miles west of Hooper Bay, Alaska. Recovery ships will be on site in five hours,” said the voice on the other end of the phone.
“All state and local police are responding and have cordoned off a ten mile stretch of the coastline and EMS has every available unit on standby,” continued the voice.
“How do you recommend we precede, Admiral?” the President asked the head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.
“Sir, I recommend a full media blackout until we ascertain what the vapor actually is and if it is harmful. I recommend sealing off the area with a level three bio-containment of Hooper Bay and Fairbanks.”
“Admiral, are you sure it was an alien craft and not just some falling space junk?” demanded the President.
“Sir, NORAD confirms this object entered our atmosphere and decelerated, then changed course to begin an equatorial orbit before leaking the vapor. Then it changed course again to begin a polar orbit before we intercepted. The craft appeared to be undamaged. The craft appeared to be of the same design as one of the Area 51 crash wreckage’s. It could be the prelude to an attack,” answered the Admiral.
“Bring us to def-con 2, deploy containment units for a possible quarantine and shut off the news in and out, is that clear, Admiral! ” ordered the President in a panic.
“YES SIR Mr. President!” shouted the Admiral. Instantly dozens of Generals began picking up phones and barking out orders to carry out the President’s instructions.
Contact + 24 hrs
“Admiral, tell me you have some good news,” said the President wearily, exhausted not only by such a long night but by his recent election campaign and the rigors of the first 100 days into his first term.
“Mr. President, I actually do have some good news. The analysis of the vapor found no pathogens; it appears to have been a liquid leak, sir.”
“What kind of liquid, Admiral? What are you not telling me?” demanded the President.
“It appears to have been organic waste and water, Mr. President,” said the red-faced Admiral.
“You mean to tell me you kept the leaders of several countries up for the last 24 hours because one of our F-22s shot down an alien RV that was dumping its waste tank in our atmosphere and taking a few pictures of the primitives on the surface, Admiral?” screamed the President.
“Stand down immediately! This is going to be a public relations disaster! We will be the laughing stock of the world! If someone’s head has to roll it will be yours, Admiral! Tell the press it was an extreme training exercise in extraterrestrial contagion control.” raged the President.
“Those two pilots must never tell what they shot down,” ordered the President. “This will blow over in a few days. If it gains any traction in the media then we will proceed with operations against the ISIS training bases in Florida as planned and leak it as a distraction. Report in 24 hours and only to me, Admiral.”
“Yes, Mr. President,” said the Admiral into a dead phone.
“Dr. Collins, they have ordered all samples of this project to be destroyed immediately and that comes straight from the Admiral himself!” gushed lab assistant Jerry, out of breath from his dash to get there first.
“Jerry, do you know what this is?” Dr Collins asked excitedly. “It is living, alien, organic matter! It is the answer that could change everything we believe about everything. For the good of humanity we cannot let the Neanderthals destroy something so important.”
“Barnibus, the MPs are on their way to collect the samples, you had better think of something fast and I don’t want to know what,” Jerry answered worriedly. Knowing he was going to regret getting involved, fearing the frat brother oath would be invoked.
“I can’t do this alone, Jerry, you have to distract them while I hide a sample,” explained Dr Collins. “Come on: Delta Tau Chi! It will be just like in college only a lot more fun!”
“If we get caught, Barnibus, I am blaming you all the way!” Jerry retorted with a groan; the oath had just been invoked.
“Go! They are already at the first airlock, I will stall them as long as I can,” Jerry said as he headed for the second airlock to cut them off.
USAF Major Nelson, designated Eagle 1, followed the signal man into the decontamination hanger and waited calmly as the decontamination gases spewed over his F-22 Raptor. There was no sign of Eagle 2’s Raptor.
Major Nelson was anxious to begin his debriefing and get home, it was his anniversary. If the debriefing was quick he might still make the dinner his wife was planning to celebrate their 10th anniversary.
After all the routine decontamination procedures were complete Major Nelson was ordered to stand by before exiting his Raptor, that was 4 hours ago and he was trying not to think about his bladder’s urgent call.
“Base, this is Eagle 1: How much longer, Base? My reservoir is past full!”
“We understand, Eagle 1; the report on the organic sample has just arrived, we have a green board, you may exit your craft.”
“Roger, Base: just clear a path and all will be forgiven.” said Eagle 1
As I climbed down the ladder to the hangar floor, I was shocked to see a gelatinous slime dripping from my Raptor’s nosecone sensor array all the way back to the rear landing gear.
At least a dozen troops in full bio hazard protective gear surrounded the F22, with lit flamethrowers. “Major, this way on the double, sir!” shouted the MP Sergeant sent to escort me, motioning me forward with the barrel of his M-4. There was no sign of my wingman Major Healy or his Raptor, just a trail of burned slime out of the decontamination hanger.
I was now certain I would miss my special dinner; they might just try and make me and Major Healy disappear to cover up what I shot down. I’m not going down for this just so the brass, or worse, some politician, can cover their own asses, I resolved, and I began to plan my escape. My wife Alice and I would have to disappear like we practiced for just this kind of situation.
When you flew one of the most advanced stealth fighters in the world in a black ops squadron, you took precautions in case the blame headed your way; if you wanted to live a long life, that is.
It was easy to become a liability witness to many things those in power did not want the public to know about, cloaking their shenanigans in a training accident wrapped in the blanket of national security and protected by the Patriot Act.
I just have to signal Alice. I will make my move in the locker room when I am getting out of my flight suit and the guards are relaxed and looking the other way. I might even know them, and then I can make that phone call easy, I thought, laying out my plan of escape.
After a thorough hosing and gassing I was finally able to exit my flight suit and helmet and answer nature’s call. I shouldn’t still be under armed guard. I don’t know any of the guards and I don’t recognize their unit insignia. And what have they done with Major Healy? We are always debriefed together after a mission like this. Something is up and it looks like I’m in the shit again.
“Boy, that’s a relief,” I said as I buttoned my uniform pants and secured my gig line. Now was not the time for a sloppy uniform, the head of the Joint Chiefs waited for me down the hall.
“You guys mind if I call my wife to tell her I am going to be late? It’s our 10th anniversary,” I asked as I held up my cell phone.
“No calls!” barked the MP Sergeant as he motioned to the nearest MP to take my phone.
I let him have it; I had already palmed my burner phone in the locker room and activated the emergency signal to Alice while I was in the stall. She was at this moment grabbing our emergency passports and money and loading up our go bags in the Jeep.
In minutes she would be headed to pick me up at our designated safe place, then a twenty minute drive by Jeep to a private airfield 10 miles north of Anchorage. There my Lear 23 was being fueled for takeoff just like we planned; now I just had to get free.
“Sergeant, I am not feeling well, that dog food they gave me for chow is rebelling, please give the Admiral my apologies for making him wait,” I said as I hurried toward the stall farthest from the door. The MP nearest me moved to block the way, M-4 at the ready.
“Let him through, the Admiral is not ready for him yet,” ordered the MP Sergeant. “He is not a prisoner, so give him some privacy.”
“Thank you, Sergeant,” I said gratefully from behind the closed stall door.
Once the MPs had filed out into the hallway to guard the door, I wasted no time opening the false bottom of the last stall and dropping down into the escape tunnel underneath, then closing myself in.
This tunnel was a relic of the cold war for the pilots to escape the attention of Russian spy planes. The entrance to the command center had been sealed off years ago and forgotten, but not the one that led to what was once a top secret hangar that had been retasked as the base mess hall.
I found it after searching the base’s pre-cold-war designs, which were declassified after a major renovation to Elmendorf Air Force Base to accommodate our F-22 Raptors and the B-2 squadrons.
As a group we, the founding pilots of the Black Knights, 1st Raptor squadron, 3rd fighter wing, extended the escape tunnel beyond the fence to the ravine. We made a pact to keep the tunnel secret, in case one of us was caught in just such a situation.
We all knew the risks inherent with missions such as ours. My wingman Major Healy and I were the only two founding pilots still alive. Black Ops combat and experimental aircraft had killed all of the others.
I splashed my way through the slimy ice-cold water filled with the mess’s organic sewage toward the end of the tunnel. As soon as I got a signal I sent a text to Alice with my ETA to the ravine that bordered the southern end of the base. This tunnel ended in the ravine 20 meters past the base perimeter fence: I had about 50 meters to go.
The tunnel’s end was supposed to be an easy 10 foot drop into a shallow creek. I had forgotten about the recent spring thunderstorms. They had swollen all of the local creeks, turning them into instant raging rivers. When I reached the end of the tunnel and found churning water, I remembered.
Damn it! I have got to head downstream to get to the bridge where Alice will be waiting with a change of clothes, my go bag and weapons. The creek is too swollen to walk in the cover of the ravine. I will be visible to infrared sensors if I cut across dry land. Looks like I’m going to get wet. My mission was a clean escape and start-over in a country with no extradition treaty with the U.S.
After I climbed down from the tunnel’s end I made my way along the swollen creek’s edge toward a large tree branch that had become lodged in the rocks after the flash flood waters had retreated from their peak.
With a herculean effort I managed to dislodge the massive branch. Then using it as a raft I slipped into the creek’s raging middle, gasping from the shock of the frigid water. With my legs pointed downstream to fend off the many large boulders as I started racing downstream.
It wasn’t long before the cold became a problem; my legs were so numb I couldn’t feel it as I bounced off another boulder. I was only halfway to the bridge. It began to seem an eternity as the cold crept further into my body; my fingers were frozen in a death grip around my makeshift raft.
The current slowed as it rounded the wide final bend before the bridge where Alice waited. Warmth and safety was just a few minutes away. After I pried my right hand’s fingers off the branch, I floundered through the shallows on all fours. I wasn’t sure I could make it to the bank, I was so sleepy and so cold and it was so far away. There was no sign of Alice or our highly modified Jeep Wrangler.
As I slowly crawled toward the bank using just my arms I was afraid I was going to freeze to death here in this stream after all I had lived through. My body was numb below my waist.
Alice, where are you, ran through my mind over and over. Determined not to quit I summoned the last dregs of my strength and dragged myself forward with just my arms, now numb and nearly unresponsive.
A light appeared on the shore. ALICE! “Over here”, I croaked, now paralyzed by the icy water as unconsciousness gently took me.
I woke suddenly to find myself wrapped in a thermal blanket, naked, with an also naked, sleeping Alice curled up around me. “You have hypothermia: we have at least 20 more minutes before you will be warm enough to fly,” she murmured, wakened by my movements. “Consider yourself lucky you didn’t lose anything important to severe frost bite,” she said with a sleepy giggle as she lifted her head off my chest.
“Where are we?” I asked urgently.
“Safe is where we are. We are on board the jet. I filed a flight plan, we are scheduled for takeoff in 50 minutes; our flight path has already been approved,” she said, checking my watch. “Now lie back down and rest, your core temperature is still too low,” she said sleepily after she swiped my forehead with a digital thermometer.
I didn’t protest my legs and arms were beginning to warm and the tingling was actually quite painful; getting warm was the only way to stop it. So I snuggled back up to Alice and waited for the pins and needles to stop. Not until then would I be ready to fly us out of here.
Contact + 10 days
Yet unnoticed in the middle of toxic wastelands around the world there was new life. Inexplicably, plants were sprouting where none should grow. From deep in the deserts to the rain forests a new species of plant grew unnoticed.
Staying small on the surface was the Tiggerian Nymppooh’s primary camouflage when so young. Unseen, its roots would quickly circumnavigate the planet, and none would be the wiser until it was far too late to stop the infestation.
KoG Slarm’s favorite pet fed ravenously on any source of solar energy until it was time to bloom. The maturing blooms became filled with enough larvae to eat every life form on the planet.
The Tiggerian Nymppooh bloom’s fragrance was a narcotic, irresistible to any sentient life form, drawing its prey into its enormous clumps of tiny, sticky, blooms to be consumed.
Willingly, blindly answering their master’s call its unsuspecting prey came, releasing its ravenous, growing larvae with each flower’s kiss. When the planet’s sentient beings took notice of the pretty flowers blooming everywhere, it would already be too late.
It was three news cycles before the pundits, foreign and domestic. The news media, moved on to something besides the ridiculous and very expensive military mobilization and the new President’s role in it.
The latest story was the phenomenon of a new species of plant growing in the deserts and toxic wastelands around the world, eclipsing it, relegating the presidential blunder to the back page.
The stories of the same strange plants growing worldwide and the wave of sudden mass disappearances of entire villages in rural India and China consumed the world news.
It was as if Elvis had returned to Las Vegas and was the opening act for the second coming. Believers flocked to the wildernesses of the world, leaving all of their worldly possessions behind, to see the flowers, believing them to be a miracle from God; never to be heard from again.
Contact + 23 days
Under our new identities, Alice and I were hiding on a remote, private estate, on the Mekong River in Vietnam, when the reports first started coming in. I was shocked when the reports about the worldwide phenomenon of plant life in the most toxic and inhospitable places on Earth broke on the international news outlets.
I knew that ship I shot down was the cause. It’s that green slime I brought back! Oh my God what have I done! What is that smmmeeeellll ? It is the most beautiful thing I have ever smelled. Where is it coming from? I have to find out, I thought as the voices began to softly sing in my mind. I felt like me naked Tarzan as I followed now naked Jane into the jungle; such was our desire to find the source of the smell.
As we walked, hand in hand, I was suddenly overwhelmed by my love for Alice, never before had I loved so intensely as now. As I held her close, my face pressed against hers, our breathing hot and fast, our passions flaring, we were filled with joyous news; we would soon be one with the beautiful voices singing in our heads. Our embrace was broken with a thought: we must hurry! They urgently need our help, as we climbed into the loving embrace of the singing blooms.
“Mistress! We are trapped!” screeched the Nenich slave.
“What do you mean “trapped”?” asked the Skreei Commander.
“KoG Slarm has deployed the Tiggerian Nymppooh and this planet is now blockaded by the Royal Fleet. They will destroy us as before as we reach the jump coordinates to the home world to prevent the spread of the Tiggerian Nymppooh spores.”
“Proceed with the search for the second breeding pair while there is still time The Royal Fleet is no match for Skreei cloaking technology, we will escape with our prizes.”
“But Mistress the ship is coated with Tiggerian Nymppooh spores. The home world will be destroyed if we return!” exclaimed the Nenich slave.
“Do not presume to question me again slave!” screeched the Skreei Commander.
“After we collect the second breeding pair set a course for this planet’s moon where we will decontaminate the ship,” ordered the Skreei Commander, her killing claws involuntarily twitching such was her agitation with her slave.
Calming herself by preening her sensing erggs the Skreei commander waited for the Nenich slave to remind her that there was no known decontaminate that would kill the Tiggerian Nymppooh.
What the slave did not know is that in secret the Skreei Commander had stumbled onto a formula that killed the Tiggerian Nymppooh in the larval stage.
Trembling and barley able to stand from fright the Nenich slave said,”Mistress there is no known substance that kills the Tiggerian Nymppooh. How can we decontaminate?”
“I have discovered a formula that kills the Tiggerian Nymppooh in the larval stage. Prepare this formula in gaseous form and in sufficient quantity to manually decontaminate the hull of the ship and those who apply the formula,” ordered the Skreei Commander, ensuring the slaves death to keep her secret.
The Skreei Commander knew her formula was valuable beyond her wildest dreams. She also knew the KoG would stop at nothing to wrest the secret from her before the formula got into the hands of the Skreei leadership. Ending the threat of the Tiggerian Nymppooh in the Skreei territories forever, depriving the KoG of his most fearsome weapon.
The Nenich slave realized the value of the formula he was preparing to the Galactic Alliance. He also knew he had to share the formula with the Galactic Allience. He knew that the Skreei Commander intended to kill him before they returned to the Skreei home world to protect her secret.
He knew he had to get this formula out to his people in the resistance against the Skreei even if it meant his death and the death of his family on the home world, and it would if he was discovered. Still he had to try.
While the formula was coalescing into a liquid form the Nenich slave composed a message to the resistance. He piggybacked his message to the resistance on a priority message to the Skreei leadership from his Mistress. This message informed them of the Skreei commander’s success in locating a second breeding pair. She also declared her intention of bring them alive to the home planet for further study and requesting a military escort to the home world.
Her message omitted the fact that the KoG’s seeding of the breeding pair’s home planet with the Tiggerian Nymppooh, blockading any off world transports with the Royal Fleet.
The mission commander was confident that the Royal Fleet had no defense against the Skreei cloaking technology. So there would be no conflict with the Royal Fleet. The Skreei fleet would just slip right in and out under the Royal Fleets nose completely undetected.
Once the decontamination was complete and the second breeding pair safely in stasis, the Skreei ship headed for the rendezvous coordinates given by the Skreei military escort. The Skreei left behind a planet consumed by the Tiggerian Nymppooh, as they approached the Royal Fleet blockade. Now was the moment of truth the only hurdle that remained in the resurrection of the Skreei race was getting past the Royal Fleet scanners.
“Approaching craft, this system is under Royal quarantine return to your planet or be destroyed,” came over the comms of the fleeing Skreei ship. Dashing any hope of escape and dooming the Skreei race. The only hope was the military escort, if they were willing to engage the Royal Fleet. Given the stakes, a battle was a certainty.
The Skreei Commander knew she had to warn the Skreei fleet that their cloaking was useless against the Royal Fleet sensors.
“Full stop!” screeched the Skreei Commander. “Alert the escort that the new shielding is ineffective against the Royal Fleet sensors.”
“Commander, sensors indicate two approaching enemy fleets!” reported the Royal Fleets command ships flight officer.
“Identify!” bellowed the Royal Fleet Commander.
“The smaller group is Skreei and the much larger group is Galactic Alliance. We are outnumbered two to one!” reported the Flight Officer.
“We are at peace with both the Skreei and the Galactic Alliance. Why are they moving into attack position? Fleet to battle stations! Shields up maximum!” ordered the puzzled Royal Fleet Commander as he wondered just what the quarantined Skreei ship was carrying. Was it worth starting a fight with the Royal Fleet?
“Fleet Commander this is the Skreei Fleet Commander, you have one of our scientific ships trapped by your blockade. It is carrying cargo vital to the Skreei races survival. A cargo the Skreei are willing to go to war over. Release it immediately or be fired upon. We will give you ten orgs to comply.”
“This system is under Tiggerian Nymppooh quarantine. No ship may leave the system by Royal Decree of KoG Slarm. Stand down or you will be destroyed!” answered the Royal Fleet Commander, realizing he was far out gunned and in a shooting battle he would likely lose but it was his duty to contain the Tiggerian Nymppooh by direct order of the KoG.
“Send an emergency message to the KoG informing him of the situation.” ordered the Royal Fleet Commander, realizing that this battle would be over before he got a response from the KoG.
“Sir I have a message from the Galactic Alliance fleet,” reported the Royal Fleet’s command ship communications officer.
“Let’s hear it!” barked the Royal Fleet commander.
“Royal Fleet Commander this is the Fleet Commander Zong of the Galactic Alliance strike force. We stand with the Skreei on this matter. Release the quarantined ship or be fired upon.”
“Fleet Commanders, firing on the Royal Fleet constitutes an act of war against the KoG and the full might of the Royal Fleet, which at this moment is mobilizing a retaliatory strike on the Skreei home world and the Galactic Alliance headquarters. You can stop the destruction by standing down.”
“You have eight orgs to release our scientific vessel,” was the Skreei Commanders reply.
No reply from the Galactic Alliance Commander as he continued moving his ships into attack position.
“SIR! I have the KoG himself on the comms. He requests a private audience,” stuttered the Royal Fleet Command ships senior communications officer. Who had never had a message from the KoG come across, much less spoken to the KoG himself on comms.
“Put it through to my ready room!” ordered the Royal Fleet Commander, knowing that such a speedy response by the KoG himself probably meant a fight to the death with the oncoming fleets.
“Your highness, how may I be of service?” asked the Royal Fleet Commanders kneeling before the hologram of Slarm KoG.
“I understand you are holding a Skreei scientific vessel in Tiggerian Nymppooh quarantine,” hissed the KoG.
“Yes we are your Highness,” answered the Royal Fleet Commander. “I have been told it holds cargo vital to the survival of the Skreei home world.
“They have been conducting illegal hybrid experiments on the squatters occupying my garden planet. These experiments have apparently been successful. That is what that cargo that ship is carrying. Destroy it immediately! Then attack the Skreei fleet.” ordered the KoG.
“Yes your Highness!” answered the Royal Fleet Commander
Reaching for the comms the Royal Fleet commander ordered, “Destroy the quarantined ship immediately. Fire a complete salvo of missiles, that ship must be completely destroyed.”
“Target acquired, firing missiles, impact in five orns,” reported the ships Executive officer.
“Target destroyed,” reported the Executive officer.
“All ships target the Skreei fleet. You may fire when ready fire,” ordered the Royal Fleet Commander.
“Sir, the Skreei Fleet has engaged their FTL drive and jumped away, they are fleeing.” reported the Royal Fleet’s command ships flight officer. “The Galactic Alliance fleet is preparing to FTL jump away as well,”
“I guess we all live to fight another day. Secure from battle stations and go to general quarters,” ordered the Royal Fleet Commander. “Send a priority message to the KoG informing him of the situation.”