Post by ThegunsofNevada on Jan 14, 2005 0:52:08 GMT -5
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
Eddies back yard was a smoking crater of New Mexican glass, small bits of rubble, and what looked like tinfoil. The reek of hot metal, dust, and barbecue was on the hot, stale air.
Eddie was wearing his bathing suit and a pair of sandals, with old, grimy socks, along with a red stained wife beater, his chest hair and beer belly poking out through it. He held the BBQ fork that he had went into his trailer to get loosely, and dropped it and ran into the house.
He began clicking his small Nikon digital camera furiously, recording the crashed ship form every angle, the sun glinting off the domed flying saucer.
The craft, or what ever it was, was hissing steam in some areas, as it vibrated slightly, and Eddie leaned in and touched it. It made a loud, click noise, and Eddy jumped back, as a seamless section of the saucer hinged open, a small, gray colored creature with a tear shaped head and big, blank, black eyes in a jumpsuit falling to the soil.
There was a gaping hole in the back of its torso, and some turquoise liquid leaked out of it, spurting a little. Eddie clicked away with the camera, and felt something behind him.
There was a flat black Crown Victoria parked in his driveway, and a tall, pale man in sunglasses and a black suit was standing there, his hands crossed in front of him. Eddie stared; He lived miles away from nowhere, and you could always tell when a car was coming from the dust cloud and noise. Eddie stooped and took a few steps towards the man.
“What did you see?” The man asked so quietly that Eddie had trouble hearing him.
“Are you kidding me? Look at that thing!” Eddie said, waving his hands, his shaggy mat of chest and armpit hair showing.
Then Eddie noticed something funny about the man, who looked pretty normal aside from the black suit; He wasn’t sweating. Every one, especially people in black, sweated in New Mexico.
“Aliens, man! Like with flashing lights and fucking cow abductions and anal probes!”<br> “Aliens? Sir, you’ll have to give me that camera.”
“Who are you?”<br> “Agent Johnson. Agent Thomas Johnson, Department of Defense.”
As the man took one quick look at the smoking ruin of the flying saucer, Eddie popped the memory card out of the camera.
“Hey, you must have some pretty good snitches in the DoD, man…This thing just crashed like thirty seconds ago! Made a hell of a noise, too…”
“Sir, the camera.” The mans voice was a flat monotone.
“Here.” Eddie tossed it to the man, who simply raised one hand and caught it with total nonchalance.
Eddie watched him, and he turned around and walked off to the sedan.
“Some men will be by here quickly. You will have to go with them for…questioning.”
Eddie watched as the man stopped, and turned his head, looking at Eddie directly. Then he checked the slot for the memory chip and pulled his lips back from his teeth in a snarl, focusing the thick sunglasses on Eddie’s eyes.
Eddie’s vision reeled and reded out as the man looked at him, and he caught a quick glimpse of something definitely inhuman behind the bland face and $3000 suit. His head exploded in pain and he staggered. The man was pulling something from his coat.
Eddie started to run just as the man in the suit got the first bullet off, the big, black gun cracking once in the desert air, the sound rolling over the flat desert like thunder.
Eddie stumbled as it hit him, just as he had opened his trucks door. The bullet tore in with terrible force, splattering the front side of Eddie’s shirt onto the truck seat, blood instantly turning the white tank top crimson. Eddie clasped himself and turned the key, stomping the gas and releasing the clutch.
Agent Johnson put the pistol away and walked to the black sedan, climbing in and starting off after the mans beat up ’67 Chevrolet.
In his truck, Eddie tried to stop the bleeding and drive at the same time, screaming through the desert at over eighty miles an hour, the black sedan leisurely following him.
The trucks engine roared as Eddie tied off part of his jacket around his shoulder, the reek of blood saturating the truck.
Town came up around the bend quickly, and Johnson snarled. Things weren't supposed to get out of hand, or, more importantly, get witnessed. Johnson stopped the car and jumped out, just as the truck started to go over the small rise into town.
Johnson fired one shot, and the left rear tire on the truck disintegrated, and before Eddie realized it, he was out of control, and the truck began to roll. Everything went black for a few moments, but he quickly regained consciousness and craweled out through the shattered right hand window.
He was right outside a closed store that sold clocks, including one magnificent looking grandfather clock. Eddie glanced behind him, and saw the Agent on top of the small hill, three hundred yards distant, a gun in his hand, the wind gently tugging at his suit coat.
Eddie glanced back at the truck, and when he looked up, the man was only a few dozen feet away.
Eddie’s heart skipped a beat as he saw the man, and he started running.
Agent Johnson smiled and concentrated for a second, and inside Eddie’s body, the bullet sprouted legs.
Eddie nearly fell over from the sudden pain in his shoulder, and he screamed terribly as he clasped at it. To his horror, he felt something move inside the wound, and with a tearing, searing pain, it started to move down and to the right, towards his heart and stomach. Eddie screamed and rolled up against the side of the building, as the storeowner flung the door open and strode out.
“Help! That mans trying to kill me!” Eddie screamed as the bullet forced its way closer to his heart.
The storeowner turned and looked at the small girl the bleeding man was pointing at. She was maybe six or seven, and cute as a bugs ear, with curly gold hair. She was sucking on a lolly pop.
The man ran off again, and when the store owner turned to look at the girl, she wasn’t there.
When Eddie had seen the man in the suit pop into the form of a girl that looked too much like his neace to be real, his mouth went dry. As his vision blured and fuzzed out, he had another glimpse of something wrong behind the young girls façade, something that was hungry and had great yellow eyes. What ever it was kept rending its way towards his heart, and Eddie turned the corner, looking behind him, and nearly ran into the Agent.
The ally was a dead end, and there was no way the man could have gotten into it with out walking past Eddie. Eddie brought his fist up for a clumsy punch as the searing pain in his breast got worse, but Agent swept his legs out from under him with a contemptuous kick, stepped back, and fired five more bullets into the tripped man.
Agent Johnson bent down and carefully ripped the mans fingers back and pryed the memory card from his warm, sweaty hand. Johnson shot the man twice more, just to make sure, and walked back to his Ford.
Eddies back yard was a smoking crater of New Mexican glass, small bits of rubble, and what looked like tinfoil. The reek of hot metal, dust, and barbecue was on the hot, stale air.
Eddie was wearing his bathing suit and a pair of sandals, with old, grimy socks, along with a red stained wife beater, his chest hair and beer belly poking out through it. He held the BBQ fork that he had went into his trailer to get loosely, and dropped it and ran into the house.
He began clicking his small Nikon digital camera furiously, recording the crashed ship form every angle, the sun glinting off the domed flying saucer.
The craft, or what ever it was, was hissing steam in some areas, as it vibrated slightly, and Eddie leaned in and touched it. It made a loud, click noise, and Eddy jumped back, as a seamless section of the saucer hinged open, a small, gray colored creature with a tear shaped head and big, blank, black eyes in a jumpsuit falling to the soil.
There was a gaping hole in the back of its torso, and some turquoise liquid leaked out of it, spurting a little. Eddie clicked away with the camera, and felt something behind him.
There was a flat black Crown Victoria parked in his driveway, and a tall, pale man in sunglasses and a black suit was standing there, his hands crossed in front of him. Eddie stared; He lived miles away from nowhere, and you could always tell when a car was coming from the dust cloud and noise. Eddie stooped and took a few steps towards the man.
“What did you see?” The man asked so quietly that Eddie had trouble hearing him.
“Are you kidding me? Look at that thing!” Eddie said, waving his hands, his shaggy mat of chest and armpit hair showing.
Then Eddie noticed something funny about the man, who looked pretty normal aside from the black suit; He wasn’t sweating. Every one, especially people in black, sweated in New Mexico.
“Aliens, man! Like with flashing lights and fucking cow abductions and anal probes!”<br> “Aliens? Sir, you’ll have to give me that camera.”
“Who are you?”<br> “Agent Johnson. Agent Thomas Johnson, Department of Defense.”
As the man took one quick look at the smoking ruin of the flying saucer, Eddie popped the memory card out of the camera.
“Hey, you must have some pretty good snitches in the DoD, man…This thing just crashed like thirty seconds ago! Made a hell of a noise, too…”
“Sir, the camera.” The mans voice was a flat monotone.
“Here.” Eddie tossed it to the man, who simply raised one hand and caught it with total nonchalance.
Eddie watched him, and he turned around and walked off to the sedan.
“Some men will be by here quickly. You will have to go with them for…questioning.”
Eddie watched as the man stopped, and turned his head, looking at Eddie directly. Then he checked the slot for the memory chip and pulled his lips back from his teeth in a snarl, focusing the thick sunglasses on Eddie’s eyes.
Eddie’s vision reeled and reded out as the man looked at him, and he caught a quick glimpse of something definitely inhuman behind the bland face and $3000 suit. His head exploded in pain and he staggered. The man was pulling something from his coat.
Eddie started to run just as the man in the suit got the first bullet off, the big, black gun cracking once in the desert air, the sound rolling over the flat desert like thunder.
Eddie stumbled as it hit him, just as he had opened his trucks door. The bullet tore in with terrible force, splattering the front side of Eddie’s shirt onto the truck seat, blood instantly turning the white tank top crimson. Eddie clasped himself and turned the key, stomping the gas and releasing the clutch.
Agent Johnson put the pistol away and walked to the black sedan, climbing in and starting off after the mans beat up ’67 Chevrolet.
In his truck, Eddie tried to stop the bleeding and drive at the same time, screaming through the desert at over eighty miles an hour, the black sedan leisurely following him.
The trucks engine roared as Eddie tied off part of his jacket around his shoulder, the reek of blood saturating the truck.
Town came up around the bend quickly, and Johnson snarled. Things weren't supposed to get out of hand, or, more importantly, get witnessed. Johnson stopped the car and jumped out, just as the truck started to go over the small rise into town.
Johnson fired one shot, and the left rear tire on the truck disintegrated, and before Eddie realized it, he was out of control, and the truck began to roll. Everything went black for a few moments, but he quickly regained consciousness and craweled out through the shattered right hand window.
He was right outside a closed store that sold clocks, including one magnificent looking grandfather clock. Eddie glanced behind him, and saw the Agent on top of the small hill, three hundred yards distant, a gun in his hand, the wind gently tugging at his suit coat.
Eddie glanced back at the truck, and when he looked up, the man was only a few dozen feet away.
Eddie’s heart skipped a beat as he saw the man, and he started running.
Agent Johnson smiled and concentrated for a second, and inside Eddie’s body, the bullet sprouted legs.
Eddie nearly fell over from the sudden pain in his shoulder, and he screamed terribly as he clasped at it. To his horror, he felt something move inside the wound, and with a tearing, searing pain, it started to move down and to the right, towards his heart and stomach. Eddie screamed and rolled up against the side of the building, as the storeowner flung the door open and strode out.
“Help! That mans trying to kill me!” Eddie screamed as the bullet forced its way closer to his heart.
The storeowner turned and looked at the small girl the bleeding man was pointing at. She was maybe six or seven, and cute as a bugs ear, with curly gold hair. She was sucking on a lolly pop.
The man ran off again, and when the store owner turned to look at the girl, she wasn’t there.
When Eddie had seen the man in the suit pop into the form of a girl that looked too much like his neace to be real, his mouth went dry. As his vision blured and fuzzed out, he had another glimpse of something wrong behind the young girls façade, something that was hungry and had great yellow eyes. What ever it was kept rending its way towards his heart, and Eddie turned the corner, looking behind him, and nearly ran into the Agent.
The ally was a dead end, and there was no way the man could have gotten into it with out walking past Eddie. Eddie brought his fist up for a clumsy punch as the searing pain in his breast got worse, but Agent swept his legs out from under him with a contemptuous kick, stepped back, and fired five more bullets into the tripped man.
Agent Johnson bent down and carefully ripped the mans fingers back and pryed the memory card from his warm, sweaty hand. Johnson shot the man twice more, just to make sure, and walked back to his Ford.