“What happened? Where am I?”
I strained to sit up. Kara quickly placed a pillow at the small of my back for support.
“What do you remember?” Ms. Parkman asked.
“Not much. I remember tangling with Vicktor, then trying to stop the device and…wait. Where’s Freddy?”
An uncomfortable silence fell over the room. Ms. Parkman and Kara traded a foreboding look that made my stomach turn.
“We are not sure. You were found by Nick and Kara along the banks of the river. You were unconscious and in pretty bad shape when they found you. They searched for Freddy, but unfortunately, they did not find him. We brought you here because the mansion is no longer safe.”
My head spun with a million thoughts. My best friend in the whole world was missing, and I had no idea whether he was alive or dead. I made him a promise that I would save him. And then I broke it. There was no hesitation about what I had to do.
“I have to go look for him.”
I tried to rise from the bed, but Kara held me down firmly by the shoulders. She was much stronger than she looked. Plus, the excruciating pain I felt all over ensured I didn’t put up much of a fight.
“He would do the same for me,” I argued.
“You are in no condition to leave this bed or do pretty much anything,” Kara said rather sternly. “Besides, we need to keep a low profile right now. It’s not exactly a good time to be showing your face in public.”
“What do you mean?”
Kara reached for the remote next to the bed and flipped on the T.V. My stomach knotted when I saw the images. There was raw footage of Vicktor and I fighting above the Gateway Plaza Hotel and the candid photo that was taken of me after I totaled the Aston Martin. It didn’t take the guy with the cell phone shot long to cash in on the discovery of a lifetime.
“Oh, wait,” Kara said, pressing a button on the remote. “It’s on every channel.”
“But, I saved the world. Why do I need to hide?”
“For exactly that reason,” Ms. Parkman interjected. “What you did was a courageous and selfless act. But humans will not see it that way. It is in their nature to fear what they do not understand. Our only choice right now is to go into hiding. There is no way to determine how much they already know.”
Her words stung like a bee. Not only was my best friend missing, but I would have to turn my back on everything and everyone I ever knew. My face was on every media outlet in the world it seemed. I couldn’t so much as go out for a cheeseburger without garnering attention now. This was not at all what I expected. My heart was heavy with sorrow.
“Arthur and the others are providing new identities for the four of you,” Ms. Parkman continued. “You will have to go completely off the radar. We do not yet know what awaits our race in the near future here on Earth. It appears the Chirac have scattered in all directions and Vicktor has disappeared once more.”
“I should have finished him when I had the chance.” Standeval’s warning rang in my ears; my teeth clenched at the thought.
“No one blames you for that. You did the honorable thing. That would have been a tough choice for anyone in your position.”
“But it wasn’t anyone else’s responsibility. It was mine, and I failed.”
“That is not true. How do you measure success vs. failure?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
“Neither do I. Nobody really does. I personally believe that you can fail many times, but if you succeed just once, no one will remember your shortcomings. And trust me, what you have done has inspired our people in a way I have not seen since long before we departed Etheus. Word has spread like wildfire of what you did last night.”
“I wasn’t alone.” I looked at Kara who smiled, then blushed.
“We have a long way to go before we can truly and safely call Earth home. That is why, until that time, you must be protected.”
Ms. Parkman moved to the door.
“Come Kara, let’s give him some rest.”
Ms. Parkman left, and Kara moved to follow, then paused. She returned to the side of the bed and knelt beside me.
“I am truly sorry about your friend. I know how much he means to you. I wish we could have kept looking, but it was too dangerous to risk it. The military was all over the place. They came out of nowhere and started conducting their own search of the area. I’ve never seen anything like this, Charlie.”
She reached out with her hand, and I took it, feeling the fear and uncertainty.
“It’s OK. We’ll get through this. And, if I know Freddy, he’s probably somewhere with his feet up, enjoying a drink and having a good laugh about me being all over television.”
I laughed, then grimaced from the pain in my ribs. I could only hope that was the case, and my best friend was truly safe and out of harm’s way.
Kara lightly touched my arm and kissed my forehead gently. I suddenly felt warm and tingly all over. And, amazingly I started to feel much better.
“I’ll be right outside. Just yell if you need anything.”
As she left and closed the door behind her, I turned my head and gazed out the window. I thought about her and the strange and complicated relationship we seemed to have. I thought about Allison and whether or not we had a future together. I certainly couldn’t expect her to hit the road with me and live in hiding for God knows how long. Then, I remembered the feeling I had experienced the night before with her. Sort of like my time had come and gone. I had missed my opportunity, and the train had finally left the station. She suddenly had another love interest, and it wasn’t me. Certainly not Nick. I couldn’t see her making the dumb jock mistake again after Matt Mitchell. Michael maybe? Had I been too preoccupied with everything else to see what was happening right in front of me? They did spend a great deal of time together while being held captive.
I shook my head and laughed, gently this time for my ribs’ sake. I was being paranoid, I was sure of it. There was no reason to believe such a thing. I needed to rest. Everything would sort itself out in due time.
I watched a flock of birds flying in the distance through the window. I recalled how I’d been flying over the city myself, just as they did now. A lot had changed since Freddy convinced me to attend that fundraiser. I could only wonder what else was in store for a young orphan boy from the planet Etheus.
I grasped the medallion around my neck and held it gently between my fingers. No, I wasn’t an orphan. I had a mother who loved me dearly and had sacrificed everything for me. And she was just a heartbeat away.
I recalled how I was able to channel such tremendous energy during my battle with Vicktor and the part the pendant had to play in it. There was more to the precious stone than it seemed. I would have to bring it up with my mother when I saw her next. But for the time being, I needed to rest.
I rolled away from the window and closed my eyes with a smile slowly broadening across my face. No matter what challenges awaited me here on Earth, I would, with the help of my newfound friends, face them all head-on.
It wasn’t long before I soon drifted back to sleep.
Epilogue I
The room was all abuzz. The tension that had been mounting could easily be felt in the air. This was, after all, an important day in the history of mankind. Maybe the most important ever.
Around the table sat the department heads of the FBI, CIA, DHS, and various other government agencies with similar alphabetic arrangements to their name. There wasn’t much conversation between them, save for the usual faux banter and pleasantries which were customary as none of the agencies really trusted each other. But today was different. The events of the past few hours had been monumental, groundbreaking to say the least. They would have to set aside their differences and work together in order to face this new threat.
The door swung open, and a large elderly man with rimmed eyeglasses and a dark blue business suit entered. His hair was neatly trimmed, and the hardened look on his face confirmed the fact th
at he was all business.
The other men around the table promptly stood.
“Mr. Secretary,” they each said in unison.
“Please, gentlemen. Take your seats.”
Secretary of Defense William Proctor set his leather-bound notebook down and took his customary seat at the head of the cherry oak table. His top aide, a young woman with fiery red hair, walked around the table and handed each department head a manila folder with the words TOP SECRET stamped in bold red letters across the front.
“I’ll cut straight to the chase, men. In front of you are classified documents and photos that prove we are not alone in this universe. Until now, this information has been kept strictly off the books and need-to-know only. However, with the events at the Gateway Plaza Hotel in downtown Grand Rapids, Michigan, things have changed. We have been tracking the whereabouts of a number of these extraterrestrials for years, but we had no idea they existed in such great numbers as we now know. Or, that they possessed such great and destructive power. We have gone to great lengths to confiscate all photographic evidence and have effectively convinced all media outlets that this was all just an elaborate hoax.”
Secretary Proctor looked around the room as each man studied the documents and photos.
“I don’t think I need to tell you what this means. We have no idea what these beings want or what they are doing here on Earth. At this point, my only concern and focus is this nation’s security. Any potential threat to that safety must be neutralized and contained.”
He paused as his aide turned on the conference room monitor and the LED screen lit up with still images of a sprawling Victorian-style mansion.
“Early this morning, we took steps to address this matter. Delta squads raided a property near Grand Rapids and have uncovered a rather complex network already in place for what appears to be quite some time. No one was found on the premises, but they did recover some valuable information and leads that, as we speak, are being investigated.”
Secretary Proctor nodded slightly to his aide who went to the next set of images.
“Some of you may recognize these photos. They were taken in Roswell, New Mexico in 1947.”
There was hushed commotion as the images flashed across the screen.
“What you didn’t know, and what I’m making you aware of today is this: the wrecked alien aircraft was manned and there was a survivor.”
The next image flashed across the screen and was barely discernible, but was clearly that of a humanoid.
“The farmer who took this photo was paid considerably to keep this fact to himself and out of the local media. We’ve been able to clean up the image using digital enhancement technology.”
The next picture was much clearer and showed a tall man with blond hair running away from the crash site. Except for the tattered spandex-like clothing he wore and the strange metal box underneath his arm, he looked entirely human.
“This photo was taken on June 14th, 1947. Miss Adams, start the feed.”
The aide pressed a button on the remote, and the screen went blank for a second. Then a video image appeared. A man was seated in a large metal chair, similar to the ones used in prisons for convicts sentenced to die by electrocution. His hands and feet were securely fastened with large metal bracelets, and IV tubing ran from his left arm to a bag filled with a strange-looking opaque solution. He appeared to be entirely incoherent. Two armed guards with fully automatic weapons stood guard to the rear.
“Look closely, gentlemen.”
The conference room burst into an instantaneous uproar as the camera slowly zoomed in on the man’s face.
“The man you see before you is indeed the same man from the photo in 1947, over sixty years ago. As you can see, he has not aged a day. He was apprehended near the Gateway Plaza Hotel and flown immediately to a secure location off the coast. We have reason to believe he may have been trying to employ some type of doomsday device. The President has given me full authority to do what needs to be done. This is our planet and our country, gentlemen. We must protect it at all costs.”
“Inside your packets are photos and information on what we know of the other ‘visitor’ at the scene of the Gateway Plaza Hotel. He goes by the name of Charles Reese. He may appear young and innocent, but I assure you, he is very dangerous. I task each and every one of you to throw your full resources into tracking him and his associates down. He is now America’s Public Enemy No. 1.”
Epilogue II
“Jeez, do we have to listen to that God-awful music?” Barry Whittleson groaned. He checked the day’s flowchart casually before placing it back on the wall. He brushed his thick moppy hair back over his left ear, regarding his co-worker with a look of disgust.
“Why do you have to be such a buzz kill? Everybody likes Marilyn Manson,” replied Randy Taylor in his usual stoner-guy tone over the blaring music. He was tall and wheat thin, a perennial underachiever and quite frankly, rather proud of it. His life’s ambition was to own his own smoke shop and partake in the ‘medicinal’ herbs he spent most of his free time enjoying. This current job was just a go-between for him, an opportunity to pay the bills until he could afford the lease on the corner lot of 18th Street he’d been eyeing for months. He’d even tried to talk his buddy, Barry into joining him on the business venture, but that was quickly shot down.
Barry didn’t like taking chances if it meant stepping out of his comfort zone. He’d been working here solidly for six years, yet he was still stuck on the same graveyard shift with slacker Randy. He wondered if it had anything to do with his abrasive demeanor, or if their boss, Dr. Kim, just flat out disliked him. He was almost certain it was the latter.
“It’s creepy enough in here without you having to play that painful excuse for music.” Barry looked around the room and felt a shiver run down his spine. Maybe it was the temperature in the room that elicited the response. Even after six years, he still wasn’t used to being in here. Still, he had to admit it was an easy job.
“So who do we have the pleasure of checking into our wonderful hotel tonight?” Randy didn’t seem to have a problem with the place at all. In fact, he seemed to even relish it at times. Maybe he was too brain-dead to know any better or just really didn’t care. Either way, and much to his own chagrin, Barry usually chose to play along.
“Let’s, see,” Barry said, grabbing the clipboard once more. “Over here we have a forty-eight year old bank manager by the name of John Grover, who died of a massive coronary earlier this morning.”
“Oh, that sucks. The poor guy should have lain off the fried foods,” Randy sneered. He walked over to the sheet-covered gurney and callously lifted the bottom of the linen to crosscheck the toe-tag against his own list. “We have a Mr. John Grover here; that is a check.” Randy moved on to the next gurney.
“Next, we have a seventy-two year old man by the name of Chester Douglas,” Barry continued. “Says here he was found in his bed by the housekeeper around twelve ‘o’clock. Probably passed away in the night.”
“Ah,” Randy mused. “When I check out that’s the way I want to go: in my sleep after a wild night of partying.” He emphasized the “partying,” and Barry rolled his eyes.
“Chester Douglas, check.”
“And our last guest of the night is actually a John Doe.”
“Oh, really?” Randy’s eyebrows raised, and he slid over to the gurney with newfound enthusiasm. John Doe victims were pretty rare, and they were usually the morgue’s longest visitors while local police tried to identify the bodies. They were routinely unsuccessful, and the bodies then made the short trip to Saint Mary Hospital’s basement crematorium.
“Yep,” Barry answered. He thumbed through the pages on his clipboard. “Unidentified African-American male in his early twenties with severe head trauma. Looks like he was found by some local fishermen and pronounced dead at the scene by responding paramedics.”
Randy took the sheet covering the deceased man and lifted it back completely
.
“Man, this dude was pretty big,” he marveled. He checked the toe tag and said, “Yep, he’s our John Doe alright. I wonder what happened to him.”
“No idea. And that’s not our job,” Barry cautioned. He was constantly reminding Randy they were not licensed coroners or medical examiners as he so frequently loved to portray. It was sort of a game for Randy to try and figure out how the victims died and if foul play was involved. It wasn’t Burt’s thing though, and he thought it pretty disrespectful to the recently deceased. To play disturbed front desk manager at the Bates Motel was one thing, channeling Quincy M.E. was quite another. The madness had to end somewhere.
“Why do you always have to be such a sourpuss?” Randy asked, lowering the sheet. He didn’t see anything wrong with guessing a victim’s cause of death. And besides, it helped to pass the time and made things interesting.
Ignoring him, Burt said, “We need to get these bodies into the refrigeration units before you can take your lunch break. And, you need to run the dirty instruments up to Sterile Supply. Dr. Kim will be here in a few hours to do the autopsy on the big guy there, and you don’t want him to be without his tools again do you? You remember what happened last time.”
Randy mumbled irritably under his breath. He threw his clipboard on top of the sheet-covered John Doe and grabbed the metal sides of the gurney, wheeling it past the stainless steel operating tables in the middle of the room before stopping in front of the refrigeration units. He referred to them as meat lockers personally.
Burt wheeled one of the other gurneys over, and together they placed the bodies into separate refrigeration units and closed them, securing the latch. Randy then brought the third and final gurney over and they repeated the process.
“I’ll take the instruments up on my way to lunch, if that’s OK with you, boss man.”
“I don’t care when you do it, so long as it gets done,” Burt answered matter-of-factly.
Randy muttered something barely audible again as he grabbed his lunch pail from the mini staff refrigerator and his coffee-filled thermos from atop the counter. Burt was really working his nerves tonight. Good thing he had that small joint hidden neatly inside his lunch pail. He usually reserved it for times like these.