Terror from Outer Space Page 6

  “You are trespassing on government property,” one of the guards sternly warned. “Please leave immediately—going back the way you came!”

  “Has the base reopened?” Winnie asked.

  “I’ll only warn you one more time!” the guard shouted. “You are on government property! Leave immediately or you will be arrested!”

  The kids looked at Ben in disbelief. For once, he’d been right. Ben smiled back at them smugly.

  Smitty lay in a hospital bed, dressed in a light blue gown. Clear tubes ran from an IV bag to his arm. He was fully awake and not happy to be there.

  “What’s all this for?” he gruffly asked a nurse. “Get my clothes. I need to get outta here.”

  “Sheriff, please don’t struggle,” the nurse warned. “You’ll only make things worse.”

  “Things are going to get a whole lot worse if I don’t get these tubes out of my arm!”

  Doc Benson walked stiffly into the hospital room, followed by Pop Fowler.

  “Maybe he’ll listen to you, Pop,” Doc Benson said. “A man in his condition needs a lot of rest.”

  “Hey, Smitty,” Pop said as he approached the side of the bed.

  “Pop!” Smitty reached out and grabbed Pop’s sleeve. “Pop, you’ve got to get me out of here. I’m doing much better now!”

  “Just take it easy,” Pop said. “You’re in good hands. There’s no rush—”

  “But we’re running out of time,” Smitty interrupted. “We’ve got to stop them before it’s too late!”

  “Who, Smitty? Who do we have to stop?”

  “The Vietcong! The Vietcong are invading!”

  Pop gently smiled. “Okay, Smitty. Okay.”

  Smitty could see the doubt in Pop’s eyes. “I know it sounds crazy. But you’ve got to believe me!”

  “Smitty, I know you believe it. And you’ve never lied to me.” Pop patted Smitty’s shoulder as he reassured him. “Now, get some rest.”

  Pop and Doc Benson exited the room. Once in the hallway, Pop asked quietly, “What do you make of that, Doc?”

  “I’m not sure,” Doc admitted. “But I’ve got two other patients just like him in the next room. You know the Wilsons. They’ve got the same dilated pupils. The same paranoia.”

  “Did they see an invading army, too?” Pop asked half joking.

  “Of course not,” Doc assured him.

  “Well, that’s a relief.”

  “They saw aliens.”

  With Mike in the lead, the four kids drove their quad runners back the way they came. After a quarter of a mile, Mike veered off the road and pulled to a stop at the chain-link fence that made up the perimeter of the old military base. He got off his bike and began to closely examine the barrier. Barbed wire ran across the top, and even though the fence was old, there were no breaks in the chain link.

  “Mike, what are you doing?” Winnie called.

  Mike bent down and examined the bottom of the fence. “Looks like some kind of critter dug his way under here.” Mike pulled at the bottom of the fence and was able to create an opening just big enough for a person to slip under. “Yeah! This will work!”

  “Wait a minute,” Spence said. “I thought we all agreed that the Last Chance Detectives would never break the law.”

  “I’m not gonna break the law.” Mike slid his daypack under the fence. “Would one of you guys hold this open so I can slide under?”

  “But back at the main gate—you heard what the soldiers said!” Spence reminded him.

  “Those were not real soldiers.”

  “They sure looked real to me,” Ben said.

  “When your dad’s in the Air Force, you learn a thing or two about military uniforms.” Mike began to crawl under the fence. “A real soldier would never wear the bars on his uniform upside down. One of them did. And the other guy had mismatched rank identification as well. No, those ‘soldiers’ were as phony as a three-dollar bill.”

  Now on the other side of the fence, Mike got to his feet and slung his daypack onto his back.

  “But shouldn’t we call the sheriff?” Ben asked nervously.

  “Smitty’s in the hospital,” Mike reminded him.

  “How about his deputy then?” Ben suggested.

  “He’s got his hands full babysitting the shuttle investigation and the media. It would take him a week before he finally got around to looking into this.” Mike looked down at his watch. “All I need is just ten to fifteen minutes to have a look around.”

  “Shouldn’t we go with you?” Winnie asked.

  “No. One person stands less of a chance of being seen. Besides, I might need someone to go get help.” Mike gestured to their walkie-talkies. “Just monitor your radio, and I’ll let you know what I find.”

  “Be careful, Mike!” Winnie said.

  “I will,” Mike said as he disappeared into the bushes.

  Chapter 9

  MIKE PUSHED HIS WAY THROUGH a thick stand of chaparral brush before he discovered that the desert landscape opened up to miles of open dunes. He climbed to the top of a sandy ridge and cautiously peered over the edge. From his prone position, he could see a large, flat, dry lake bed down below. In the middle of the basin, about a quarter of a mile away, was the military base Mike and his friends had been searching for.

  Moving fast, he pulled a pair of binoculars out of his daypack and began studying the military base below.

  Several large landing strips surrounded a large complex of two-story industrial buildings. Timeworn rocket-testing towers and airplane hangars dotted the landscape.

  At first glance the base still looked abandoned, but on closer inspection Mike saw some movement. A greenish smoke was drifting out of the ventilation system that sat atop the main three-story building. Wind had picked up the smoke and pushed it in his direction. It smelled funny and slightly burned his nose.

  Mike looked up at the sky and didn’t like what he saw. Dark, threatening thunderclouds were quickly rolling in across the horizon. The last thing he needed was to face a flash flood in an area he was unfamiliar with.

  Mike continued to pan the buildings with his binoculars. On closer inspection, he discovered several parked Humvees hidden from view under a camouflage overhang. He also spotted a jeep that was slowly cruising between buildings. Somebody had definitely set up some sort of operation down there.

  Mike pulled the walkie-talkie out of his daypack and checked the sky overhead. The clouds had moved in faster than he had expected. They darkened the sky and slowly circled the military base.

  “Desert Eagle One to Desert Eagle Two,” Mike said into his walkie-talkie.

  “Go ahead, Eagle One,” Winnie answered.

  “I made it!” Mike exclaimed.

  “What do you see?” Winnie asked.

  Mike held the binoculars back up to his eyes. “Buildings, hangars, runways . . . Don’t see a lot of movement, but I did see someone driving a jeep. Hold on a minute—I can see somebody now!”

  Mike watched as a man dressed in camouflage fatigues opened the door to a large hangar. The man quickly entered and closed the large door behind him. Mike had just enough time to make out belted tire treads and the muzzle of a huge cannon. They were hiding a tank in that hangar!

  “Whoa!” Mike said into his walkie-talkie. “They’ve got some heavy-duty firepower down there!”

  “Come again, Desert Eagle, you’re breaking up,” Winnie requested.

  The storm clouds had grown considerably. Wind kicked up dust and tugged at Mike’s hair and clothes.

  “I said they’ve got firepower!” Mike yelled over the howling wind. “I’m pretty sure it’s some kind of tank!”

  A loud clap of thunder startled Mike. He looked up to see that the storm clouds above were now swirling faster than he thought possible. It looked like something out of one of those extreme-tornado shows on The Weather Channel. But instead of a twister forming, the swirling action caused the clouds to open—like the eye of a hurricane. And instead of blue sk
y on the other side of the clouds, Mike was startled to see utter blackness.

  Fingers of lightning spider-webbed their way around the edges of the hole in the clouds as it grew ever larger. Mike’s eyes went wide in disbelief. Beyond the clouds he could see stars, planets—even the Milky Way. It was like looking through a window into the depths of outer space!

  Winnie, Ben, and Spence hadn’t heard from Mike in several minutes and were getting nervous.

  “Eagle One, come in please,” Winnie called into the walkie-talkie. “Are you there?”

  There was no immediate response, but then:

  “Do you guys see this? It’s incredible!” Mike’s voice sounded somewhat distorted. He was yelling and obviously very excited. “Just look at it!”

  “What?” Winnie asked. “What do you see?”

  “Up in the sky! It’s huge!” Mike replied.

  Mike’s three friends looked up into the sky but saw nothing unusual.

  “Eagle One, what’s up in the sky?” Winnie asked.

  “How can you not see this? It’s unbelievable!” Mike was still shouting on his end of the walkie-talkie. “I don’t know how to explain it . . . but it can only be . . . a wormhole! Ben, it’s your wormhole!”

  “What?” Winnie couldn’t believe her ears.

  Ben jumped up and danced around triumphantly. “I told you, Winnie! I told you! But—no! You wouldn’t listen!”

  Mike got to his feet and stared in astonishment at the vast cosmic expanse above him. Thunder rumbled and the clouds continued to circle the hole that now took up over a third of the sky. Stars and planets were clearer than Mike had ever seen them before. He wasn’t afraid, just mesmerized by the wonder of it all.

  Suddenly a small, fiery comet streaked out of the middle of the hole in the sky. Its trajectory sent it roaring directly over Mike. He watched as it disappeared over a nearby dune, and then felt the ground shake when it impacted.

  Mike looked back up into the sky. The clouds were slowing, and his “window” into space was quickly closing. Mike ran forward to see what had hit on the other side of the dune.

  “Guys! Guys!” Mike yelled into his walkie-talkie. “I think it’s safe now. The wormhole is closing. But something just flew out of it! I’m sure you must’ve heard it! I’m gonna go see what it is!”

  Back at the quad runners, Mike’s friends were growing more and more puzzled.

  “Did you guys hear anything?” Spence asked. “I sure didn’t.”

  “Me neither.” Ben shrugged.

  Winnie lifted the walkie-talkie to her mouth. “Eagle One, maybe you should wait until we can join you.”

  “Negative,” Mike replied through a layer of static. “It would be safer for you guys to stay where you are. Wait a minute! I can see something!”

  “Describe what you’re seeing, Mike,” Winnie said.

  “I can see . . . It’s . . .” Mike kept transmitting, but his voice was trailing off. “No . . . It can’t be. It—”

  The radio crackled and then went dead.

  “What?” Ben exclaimed. “What did he see?”

  “Eagle One?” Winnie shouted into the walkie-talkie.

  There was no response.

  “Eagle One! Please, come in!”

  Mike could hear Winnie’s pleas for him to answer, but he no longer cared. The walkie-talkie slipped from his fingers and fell into the sand. Mike stared in stunned silence at what lay before him. A deep furrow in the sand led to the final resting spot of a crashed jet airplane. But this was not just any jet. This was an F-16 fighter jet—the exact type of plane his dad had flown.

  Mike ran forward, knowing that time was of the essence. Though there was little smoke coming from the jet’s single engine, the smallest spark could ignite the highly flammable jet fuel at any moment. He had to see if there was a survivor and get them both clear of the craft as fast as possible.

  The nose of the F-16 was buried deep in the sand, but the cockpit was accessible. Mike grabbed the glass canopy and pulled as hard as he could. Air released with a sudden hiss, and the canopy hinged upward and back. The pilot was hunched over, groaning. As Mike began unbuckling the safety harnesses, the pilot leaned back and stared up at him.

  “Mike!” a weak but familiar voice said.

  “Dad?” Mike gasped.

  Chapter 10

  WINNIE, BEN, AND SPENCE huddled around the walkie-talkie, listening intently for any word from Mike.

  “It isn’t like Mike to not answer us,” Spence said.

  “What could’ve happened to him?” Ben asked.

  “Eagle One, come in!” Winnie continued to try to get Mike to respond. “Eagle One, are you there? Mike?”

  Ben paced back and forth, wringing his hands. “You guys don’t think he got sucked up into space, do you?”

  “That’s not helping, Ben!” Winnie was running out of patience. “In fact, planting stupid ideas like that in our heads is only making things worse.”

  “Hey, you’re the one who didn’t believe in wormholes up until a few minutes ago,” Ben pointed out.

  “That’s it. I’ve waited long enough.” Winnie marched toward the fence and prepared to go under. “I’m gonna go find him.”

  “But you heard what Mike said. We’re all supposed to stay put!” Ben reminded her.

  “Ben’s right,” Spence said. “Let’s all just stay calm and give him a few more minutes.”

  Winnie crossed her arms before letting out a deep sigh. “Okay, he’s got three minutes.”

  Horizontal lines were etched deeply in the sand where Mike had dragged his father from the cockpit of the F-16 to the shade of a nearby Joshua tree. Mike cradled his father’s head in his lap and gave him a drink from his canteen.

  John Fowler took a swig and coughed. “You’ve got to get me out of here, Mikey. I need a hospital.”

  “I’m trying, Dad. I’m trying.” Mike looked down at his dad’s legs. It was obvious that they had been crushed in the plane crash. Mike was afraid to think about what internal injuries his father might be suffering from. The initial joy of finally being reunited with his dad was giving way to a new sinking fear that he might lose him again forever.

  “Don’t worry. I’m gonna get you out of here somehow,” Mike assured him.

  “I’m counting on you, Son! I’m—” Mike’s dad was suddenly hit with a wave of excruciating pain. “Oh! It’s worse than I thought.”

  “Hang on, Dad!” Mike fought to keep his composure. His dad’s face was pale, and his breathing was becoming labored. Mike racked his brain as he tried to come up with a plan.

  “Oh!” John Fowler groaned, his face etched with pain. “It hurts. . . .”

  “I’m going to go get my radio,” Mike explained. “My friends can help if I can just—”

  “No!” John grabbed his son’s arm. “There’s no time. Don’t leave me, Mike!”

  “But if I don’t go . . .” Mike fought back his tears.

  “Mike.” John Fowler struggled to keep his eyes open. His breathing was shallow, and his words began to falter. “I . . . love you . . . son.”

  “No, Dad!” Mike begged. “Please, no!”

  “I—I only . . . wanted to see your mom . . . one more time.”

  “You will! You will see her!” Mike tried to put on a brave face, but he could see the terrible truth that his dad was dying.

  John Fowler took one last deep breath, and then weakly uttered his final words. “If only . . . you had . . . looked for me harder.”

  “What?”

  John Fowler’s body went limp in Mike’s arms.

  “No! Dad! Daaaad!”

  “Time’s up!” Winnie looked up from her watch. “Let’s go!”

  “Okay.” Ben reluctantly followed her to the fence. “But I’ve got a very bad feeling about this.”

  Winnie knelt by the spot in the fence where Mike had crawled under. “I’ll go first. Then I’ll hold open the fence on the other side so you guys can follow.”

  �
�Ben, you better go last,” Spence suggested. “I think Winnie will need my help to hold it open for you.”

  “That’s fine with me,” Ben said.

  As the boys pulled back the chain-link fence to allow Winnie to climb under, a burst of static alerted them that the walkie-talkie was receiving a transmission.

  “. . . did my best . . .” Mike’s voice was faint.

  “It’s him!” Spence lifted his walkie-talkie. “Mike, are you okay?”

  “He’s dead . . . Oh, he’s dead . . .”

  Even though Spence couldn’t see Mike, he could tell his friend was crying. “Dead? Who’s dead?” Spence asked.

  “My dad,” Mike sobbed. “My dad is dead.”

  “Just stay where you are, Mike! We’re on our way!”

  Back in Ambrosia, Pop was saying his goodbyes as he prepared to leave the hospital. “Well, Doc, let me know if there is anything else I can do.” Pop shook Doc Benson’s hand. “Or if you find out anything interesting from those blood tests.”

  “As a matter of fact, Doctor”—a nurse approached Doc Benson and handed him a set of papers—“we just received those lab results you were waiting for.”

  “On all three patients?” Doc asked.

  “Yes. For Lyle and Skye Wilson, as well as Theodore Smitty.”

  “Thank you.” Doc Benson’s brow furrowed as his eyes quickly scanned the results. “Hmmm . . .”

  Pop waited anxiously until Doc had examined all three reports.

  “That’s odd.” Doc looked up from the papers with a puzzled look on his face. “Very odd indeed!”

  “What’s odd?” Pop asked.

  “As I suspected, all three patients’ blood tests came back with matching results,” Doc said. “Normal, except they all share the very same anomaly.”

  “What kind of an anomaly?”

  “Smitty and the Wilsons must’ve all been exposed to the same thing because they all have traces of the same strange compound in their bloodstream,” Doc explained. “Our computers automatically checked the Periodic Table of Elements and—here’s what’s odd—they couldn’t classify one of the elements the compound was made of. We’ve never seen this one before.”