Tremulous: Shadows in the Night
by Houston Rogers
©2009
All characters, places and events are a product of the authors imagination. Any relation to real life events is entirely coincidental, although we both know aliens don't exist.
Or do they?
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March 12th, 2021-George Hanson gripped the steering wheel tightly, all of his attention focused on driving. His wife sat in the seat next to him, her legs crossed, skirt pulled down over her knees, looking prim and proper with her hair nice and neat, compared to his disheveled appearance. Her name was Sissy Hanson, but don't let the name fool you, nor her occupation. She was the bait they used, true, but she was a toughie. Just ask any man who had been to bed with her while they were stealing his money and other valuables. She made them scream, and when she was done making them scream, George and the others made them scream, although these were screams of pain rather than pleasure.
In the back sat Carl Mackel, along with his brother James. Between them was the 2nd woman and last member of their group, Gloria Mackel. She was married to one of the brothers, but no one would say which exactly. It seemed like she spent time with both of them. George really didn't care, because he didn't think of them as anything but expendable. A means to the end. If someone died on a job, who gave a fuck? Not George Hanson. As long as he got the cash from the thievery, he was fine and dandy. He did care about his wife though... in some way or another. It was surely love that had pushed him to ask her hand in marriage, although it didn't seem like much of that love remained, if any did at all.
“Someone pass the beer?” Carl hollered.
“Don't fucking yell,” George replied, yelling himself while reaching down between the front seats and grabbing a bottle of Becks. Carl snatched it from his hand and popped the top, turning up the bottle and taking a sip. He sighed happily and passed the bottle to his brother. George just shook his head and kept driving. Sissy kept looking into the rear-view mirror, and it pissed him off. He took one hand off the wheel and adjusted the mirror to where she couldn't look out.
“I'm just-” she started to say.
“There's no one after us, okay? Relax.”
“Bo-bo-bo-boogeyman! Boogeyman gonna getcha!” Carl and James sang out suddenly, making George jump in his seat.
“Shut up, you two, and drink your beer,” he said, glaring back at them through the mirror.
“Oh ho, what're you gonna do, Mr. Bad Guy? Put us in the trunk with our friend?”
George winced. He didn't like to be reminded of his work unless he absolutely had to. He'd almost forgotten the man in the trunk. Not in the sense that he'd totally forgotten, but more like it had slipped his mind, or drifted off into another zone entirely. Their friend in the trunk, that was a good one. It wasn't the man they wanted a relationship with, it was his stuff. Word was he was a banker, and that sort of word was what attracted George and his merry band of thieves and murderers. Sissy did him, and then they really did him. He didn't scream much, which left George a little disappointed. He always held the thought that those who really wanted to live begged you on their knees, not lay there like a stone. Maybe he was just too exhausted to make a peep.
His thoughts were rudely interrupted by the smell of beer breath wafting through the air and assaulting his nose. He peeked over to his right and saw Carl leaning between the seats, peering out the windshield. Before George could ask him what the fuck he was doing, Carl raised the hand the beer bottle was in and pointed straight ahead. “What's that?”
George turned his gaze back to the road, and that's when he saw the lights. They were about 100ft above the ground, to the left of them and about a quarter of a mile ahead. George first thought they were moving, but he quickly realized it was an illusion brought on by the car speeding towards the mysterious glow in the sky. He didn't even bother to slow down, because all of his attention was on the lights. There was enough brainpower left to keep the pedal down, but that was about it, so God forbid if anyone ran out-
WHAM! The vehicle hit something hard and George briefly saw what looked like something white before it went under the front of the car, and then running completely over it. He was finally brought back down to Earth, and he halted, slamming his foot down on the brakes. The road behind them was illuminated in a red glow, but he couldn't see anything except a cloud of dust that had been thrown up from the sudden stop. After a minute, he took his hands off the wheel and got out.
The others scrambled out after him, Gloria holding James' arm like it was a float in the middle of the ocean.
Maybe that's the one she's married to... George thought randomly as he walked to the back of the car. He waved a hand to clear some of the air and looked down at his feet. What he saw was a man dressed in a full white bodysuit, about the same height as George himself. He appeared to be quite dead. Blood trickled from one ear and the edge of his mouth, his eyes staring lifelessly at the stars.
“Well, fuck. We came out here to bury one guy and now we got two,” Carl said, kicking the hubcap on the rear left tire. George paid no attention to him. He reached down and gripped the shoulders of the suit and dragged the body away from the vehicle so they could all see it clearer. Just as George was about to tell someone to get the goddamn flashlight out of the glove compartment, Sissy pointed down the road. “Those lights are getting closer.”
James turned around and looked, his eyes wide. “What the hell is it?”
Carl narrowed his eyes, moving in that direction a little bit. However drunk he'd been, the last 5 minutes had sobered him up in a hurry. “I don't know...” he said, raising his hand and shading his eyes, as if it were in the middle of the day and not night. “Hanson, get your gun.”
George reached into his sock and pulled out his snub-nosed pistol, resting his finger on the trigger. That was when they saw the shapes form on the ground, beneath the light. “Oh hell,” George said, putting his pistol away. “It's a bunch of fucking kids on bikes.”
Indeed it was. The group of four boys on wheels approached them, a balloon with reflectors on it tied to one of the bikes. They looked to be about 12-15, the oldest in the lead. “Hey, did ya break down?”
Carl cursed under his breath. “No, we just had an accident... please, go back to town,” he said to them, cocking a thumb over his shoulder, behind them. The boy didn't listen; instead he looked around at the body, his eyes going wide. George stepped forward, raising his hands in a sign of peace. “Listen, I need you kids to go back to town and get help, okay? This man's life depends on it.”
The older boy looked at George, as if he was carefully thinking over all his options. Finally, he pedaled past them, his friends close behind. “We'll be back!” he called to them over one shoulder, and then they vanished into the darkness, the silly balloon with the lights on it trailing behind them. “Stupid kids...” Carl muttered.
“Did the lights scare ya?” Sissy asked, smirking a little. "Did you think it was the boooogeyman?”
“Shut up, bitch,” Carl replied, snarling. “What would you do if you saw strange lights out here, like a mile from town, in the middle of the night?”
“Think the aliens were coming after me,” Sissy shot back, then burst out into giggles. George couldn't help but crack a smile.
“Oh please,” Carl said. “James used to believe in those little green men when we were kids, and I hated it so much. Other kids would pick on us 'cause of it.”
“Well, it's the only way you ever got attention, brother. They sure didn't come after you cause you looked good.”
While the two bickered back and forth, George looked around the area for anything else usual. He spotted two smallish containers about 10 feet away, just on the edge of the light cast by the taillights . He walked over to them and picked them up, noticing both were open. They were about 2 feet in length and a foot wide, and made of some type of sturdy metal. Had the man in the bodysuit been carrying them? Most likely. But why? What would he being doing out here this late?
George dropped the containers, as they were useless to him. Just as he turned to go back to the car, he heard a low rumbling sound, almost like a purr. Spinning around, he peered into the darkness by the side of the road, but there was nothing to see except blackness and what looked like the edge of a cornfield. He scowled and walked over to the others, and it sounded again. This time Carl heard it too, and he was in no mood to screw around.
“I bet it's those kids, George. Those fuckin' kids!” he yelled, running towards the corn and into it. James blinked his eyes a few times, as if he could not believe Carl had just left them out here. Then he went after him, Gloria still attached to his arm. George opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again. If they wanted to fuck around out there, by all means, let them. He looked at the dead man at his feet again, then back up at the cornfield.
He heard Carl yelling, trying to find the perpetrator of the noise, but to no avail. “Fuck this! I'm getting- wait, what's that? What's...
AHHHHHHH!”
The scream tore through the air towards the road, and George Hanson went very pale. Sounds of fighting followed, and then Gloria was screaming and the corn was shaking, and George and Sissy both saw James running towards them, a look of terror on his face, yelling for them to get in the car,
get in the fucking car, and then he was gone. One second he was there, and then something pulled him back into the darkness.
It was mostly silent now, and all they could hear was a slight breeze rustling through the rows of cornstalks. They got in the car and waited. It would be day soon, and the medics and police would be here. Then everything would be just fine.
All they had to do was make it till the sun came up.
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March 13th, 2021-Excerpt from:
The Westport Paper
Abandoned Vehicle Outside Town
Linked To Bloodhound Gang
by Derrick Kelas
Citizens of Westport woke up this morning to hear that the car owned by George Hanson, leader of the infamous “Bloodhound Gang” was found about a mile down Stanford Road this morning at about 4 A.M..Police were apparently told by a group of young boys that a man had been hit by the car and was gravely injured. They described the man as being dressed in a white bodysuit....
Continued on A-8 March 20th, 2021-Excerpt from:
The Westport Paper
No Sign of Gang
by Charlene Mayle
...however, the car windows were smashed, and blood was found on the inside of the vehicle. Also, upon further inspection, there was a body located in the trunk, believed to be the Bloodhounds latest, and most likely, last victim. Nearby on the ground were two metal containers, although what may have been inside them is unclear. Chief of Police Jonathan Rice believes it was some sort of animal, perhaps from the nearby testing facility. “There were scratch marks on the inside, as of something was clawing at it.”
May 13th, 2021-
Excerpt from:
The Westport Paper
Search for Missing Gang Ends
by Derrick Kelas
Today the Westport police have announced that they are calling off the search for George Hanson and his crew. “It's been 2 months since they vanished and not a single sign of them,” Chief of Police Jonathan Rice said in his interview with us. “We've talked to everyone, including the boys who told us about the accident to begin with and the man who owns the field by which the car was found. No one knows anything. It's just going to go down as a mystery.”
We had a chance to talk to old Farmer Jack Campbell ourselves, and he pretty much said the same thing. “The police showed up on my door, and here I was thinkin' my boy was in trouble again, but no, it was about those damned thieves from a few towns over. Well, I told 'em I didn't seen anything odd like that. I did see a pretty big spider though. Scairt my wife a fair share, hanging on the outside of the damn screen door in the middle of the night. I got my rifle and shot at it, couldn't have missed, thing was as big as a basketball...”
June 1st, 2021-Excerpt from:
The Westport Paper
Livestock Vanishing
by Sherry Clark
Farmers beware! Keep an extra guard on those sheep and cows! Cattle and sheep raisers in the area are bringing in increasing reports of missing or dead animals. One man says: “I don't know what happened. I locked up everything nice and secure, and the next morning I went out and about 1/4th of my animals were either completely gone or torn apart like a butcher had been at them. There ain't no wild animals around here... we took care o' them years ago...”
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The End
Authors Note: Someone told me to do a prequel of sorts to The Harder They Fall. While I was busy working on the novelization, the idea to set the prequel story (of sorts) in 'present time', on good old Mother Earth, struck me. So consider this short story to be part of the same universe as my before mentioned novella, just taking place waaaaay before it does. Hopefully this will tide you all over till I finish teh novel. 
I hope you enjoyed reading it, because it was very fun to write.
-Death 
