Archives for category: short story

continued from part two


7.

What happened next is still somewhat of a blur. But I remember the harsh, scraping metal sound the garage door made as it flew open, just before the smoke.

Then everything faded to black…

8.

When I woke up I was alone, laying on a bed in what looked at first like a typical hotel room at a Super 8. The decor was bland, utilitarian; someone had put very little expense into a Southwestern motif. I glanced around the room a few times before I realized there were no windows. There was a television but no remote and no buttons. There was also no thermostat or telephone. A large mirror hung on one wall. A bad knock-off of some Native American artwork hung on the other wall. There was one metal door leading out of the room. There was no peephole and it couldn’t be locked from the inside.

I tried to stand and walk to the bathroom but quickly found that I was dizzy and trying to move sent pain shooting through my head. I heard a beep at the door and it opened. A woman walked in carrying a tray.

“Hello James, my name is Brandi. I have some food for you. The dizziness should pass soon. Here, drink some of this tea, it will help you.”

“Where am I? Where is my family?”

“They are safe, in other rooms down the hall outside. Once you’ve all recovered from the…ehm, medicine, you’ll be interviewed by one of the agents. Don’t worry, everything will be fine…”

I drifted in and out of consciousness, tried to eat some of the soup she brought. It wasn’t until several hours later that the dizziness passed and I felt fully aware of my surroundings & faculties.

9.

Brandi came back carrying something under her arms. She really was quite pleasant looking. Probably in her mid-thirties, red hair with blonde highlights. About five feet seven in the heels she was wearing. She had on white scrubs but they were more form fitting than the ones nurses typically wear in a doctor’s office or hospital and definitely more revealing below the neckline.

“These are some clothes for you to change into. You should shower and get dressed. The agent will be seeing you soon. I’ll be back in about 30 minutes.” She turned to walk out of the room.

“Wait, why are we here? Who is this agent? What does he want? How did you know my name”

“The agent will explain everything thing to you. I just take care of the rooms and the needs of the…umm, guests.” She left quickly.

There didn’t seem to be anything to do but take a shower & get dressed. The shower was activated by a single button below the shower-head. There was no hot or cold, just one single temperature – the temperature I liked, actually. Shampoo, conditioner and body wash were dispensed by three nozzles inside the shower. It felt oddly refreshing. The clothes – white drawstring pants and a white button down shirt – fit me perfectly. I was beginning to feel like a patient in an expensive mental health spa.

10.

I sat on the edge of the bed waiting for Brandi to return. I kept thinking that I should have been extremely scared and anxious but for some reason I felt totally calm. I tried to find a radio station on my Walkman but it was just static.

The door beeped and Brandi came in. “The agent will see you now.”

I got up and followed her out into the corridor. It was long and sterile looking. Fluorescent lights hung overhead, the floor was terrazzo. Doorways like mine dotted it every 20 feet or so.

We turned a corner at one point, went down a hallway containing several small conference rooms. She took me in the one that had a large #3 painted on it and asked me to sit down at the table. There was a cup of ice and a can of Coca-Cola next to it. “Make yourself comfortable, it will only be a minute or two.”

The conference room was minimal. A plasma TV hung on one wall, a rectangular conference table with eight chairs. Some abstract art hung on the wall.

The door opened again and a slender man in his late 50′s walked in carrying a folder and a mug of coffee. He was dressed like an engineer or scientist, but the way he carried himself & his demeanor reminded me of those investigators on Law & Order.

“Hi James, my name is Agent Owens. I need to ask you a few questions about what your family was doing at the weigh station. I’m sure you have questions and I’ll try to answer those for you, but first I need to know what happened yesterday.”

I explained how the minivan had broken down and that we were trying to walk to a rest area and stumbled across the weigh station, etc. He asked about the places we had stayed previously, the tourist attractions we had visited. He asked about my dad’s job.

“Okay, thank you for your cooperation. I’ve already spoken to your father & mother. I’ll be speaking to your sister next, just for the file, and then we’ll help you get back to your minivan & tow it to a service station. Your family inadvertently stumbled into a military installation. But your stories corroborate and it sounds like it was an accident. We apologize for the trouble and everything, but with Homeland Security the way it is we have to take every precaution.” There was something odd about the way he said ‘Homeland Security’ – perhaps a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

“Thank you sir. What time is it by the way?”

“Almost 9 PM…wait here and Brandi will show you back to your room.”

“Can I see my parents yet?”

“As soon as I finish with…uh,” he glanced in his file, “your sister Danielle, your family will be reunited.” Then he left.

Brandi returned me to my room. My clothes had been washed & were folded neatly on my bed. I changed back into them and waited.

11.

15 minutes passed, then 30. After about an hour the door beeped and Agent Owens entered the room.

“James, your sister mentioned something in the interview that no one else had brought to our attention – about lights & sounds she says you and she saw at two other weigh stations along your way here. I need to know exactly what you saw & heard…”

I explained the high-pitched buzzing sound & the orange glow as best as I could recall it.

“And neither of your parents saw or heard anything?”

“No, just Dani saw that light at the first station outside Georgia, and I saw & heard the light & sound at the one near Albuquerque.”

He turned to open the door. “Hey, can I see my family now? When can we leave?”

He paused and turned back to me, “Brandi will take you to where the four of you will be staying. I’m afraid with these new developments we won’t be able to release you from custody at this time. The four of you, particularly you & your sister, will be guests of the United States Federal Government for the foreseeable future.” With that he left the room.

12.

I sat on the bed for a few minutes, stunned. Why had Dani brought up the lights & sounds? And why was that important enough to warrant being detained here? My anxiety level was finally beginning to catch up with reality. I glanced my Walkman out of the corner of my eye. I picked it up and started fiddling with it. Then I remembered that mom had bought me the special model with the weather & emergency scanner. I flipped the switch and started to rotate the tuner. Static…kept rotating….more static…wait, there! Were those voices? I tried to fine-tune it. I couldn’t make it out clearly…

“sshwhhwgghh…of the girl’s…shshsghghh…. transporting…sshhshwghgh… impossible to hear….sshshsgghgh…we’ve been searching….shhrhgrhhrh… must be briefed on this development…sssggsghshgsrgg…indefinitely…” Then the batteries died.

There were at least two voices, maybe more. I couldn’t make too much of the conversation out, but the way the last one said “indefinitely” sent chills down my spine…

13.

A few minutes later the door beeped and Brandi took me to a larger suite. Dad & mom were already there. A few minutes later she brought Dani in as well…

to be continued…

…continued from yesterday.

2.

I was the next one to notice something strange going on with the weigh stations. We were about three hours outside of Albuquerque, New Mexico. I was pulling an all-nighter on my Gameboy.

Mom always said I had doglike hearing. If I hadn’t heard the high pitched humming as we approached the ramp to the weigh station my attention may have never diverted from the game. But even with my headphones on and the vibration of the tires it still hit me like an ice cold shower.

I sat straight up in my seat and looked out the window. That’s when I saw where the sound was coming from. As we cruised past the on-ramp to the abandoned weigh station I saw the same light Dani had seen just a few days earlier. Like a fiery orange glow that flashed out of the gatehouse and then seemed to surround the whole area before receding back within a split second. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and blinked a few times, but I knew what I had seen was real.

“Daaniiiii,” I whisper-hissed. “Wake up! Wake up! I saw the light too…just now as we passed that weigh station.”

“You did? You saw it? Was it orange?”

“Yes! It was an orange glow, just like you said…”

“Hey, why aren’t you guys sleeping? What are you whispering about back there?” I guess dad wasn’t totally asleep at the wheel.

“I saw the same light back there at the weigh station that Dani saw…and this time I heard a high pitched whistle too. Did you hear it?”

“I didn’t hear or see anything. My eyes have been on the road and who can hear anything above your mom’s Garth Brooks CD anyway?”

“Hey, it’s either that or Hanson,” mom tried to defend herself. “Take your pick.”

“Garth Brooks!” Dad, Dani & I said, in unison.

With that, everything returned to normal.

3.

The panorama of the lights of Albuquerque at night as you near the city is something you won’t forget if you get the chance to see it. Only one other city that I’ve been to – Quiti, Ecuador – nestled in the Andes mountains, could rival it’s beauty.

We wound our way down towards the city. Dad was fumbling with the triptiks looking for the one that would lead us to our next La Quinta. We would eat breakfast, do some sight-seeing, shower, dad would sleep a little. We left around 3 AM for Flagstaff, AZ.

4.

You know that excited feeling…when everything is going right and you can’t wait to get to your destination, cause it’s bound to be so much fun?

Yeah, well that wasn’t how we felt by this point. The pace was wearing on everyone, nerves were frayed. Even though we had a break in Albuquerque, it wasn’t enough. Even the minivan was feeling the strain. Camping in Flagstaff would certainly do the trick to stretch our legs.

Except, we never made it to Flagstaff.

Halfway between Albuqurque and Flagstaff the air conditioning in the van went out. If it had been daytime we probably would have been fried out there like eggs on a hot griddle. Fortunately, it was early morning, so it just felt like we were in a sauna, but without the cedar fragrance.

In some ways, out there, dawn is even eerier than the pitch black night. When it’s totally dark you can’t really see anything moving in the distance. At dawn you can just start to make out some shapes, but have no idea what they are.

The minivan gurgled to a complete stop about an hour outside of Flagstaff on some “scenic highway” the AAA said was a must. (Really? How many different ways can the desert look? The whole thing is one big “scenic” landscape.)

We didn’t dare say a word. Mom, Dani & I just looked at each-other. Dad got out and started fiddling with the hoses and thingamabobbers under the hood. About 20 minutes later he came back looking very dejected, “I have no idea what the Sam Hill is wrong with this thing.”

Dani & I tried to hold back a giggle. It wasn’t very hard though, because after we got over the initial humor of dad’s euphemism we realized we were stuck. In the middle of the desert. In the middle of summer. With our parents.

Dad whipped out his cellphone and dialed AAA. Oh wait, it’s 1996 – strike that – we had absolutely no way of reaching the outside world. Fortunately, we had camping gear and could run the cooler on the minivan’s battery…for about an hour.

Dad decided to consult the maps inside the triptiks and found a rest area about five miles farther down the road, where he figured there would be a pay-phone & vending machines.

Dad was willing to make the hike himself but mom was afraid for him to leave the three of us behind in the van. She thought it was better that we all stay together.

So the four of us shed most of our clothing, grabbed some bottled water and put on our hiking boots. Dad locked the minivan and stuck a red windbreaker in the trunk hatch. (So that the police would know that the van wasn’t abandoned. Umm, what police?) Then we departed. “Wait, dad! Can you unlock the van again so I can grab my Walkman?” He sighed, “hurry up!”

Looking back, if he had balked at my request to get my Walkman, it’s quite possible that none of us would have survived the next 24 hours.

5.

After about two miles Dani & I were pretty sure we were going to die. The sun was rising fast & hot and it felt like every inch the sun rose depleted the air of more oxygen. We didn’t even have a chance to get sweaty, the heat just evaporated it right off our skin.

Mom thought dad was hallucinating at first when he suddenly said that he thought he saw a weigh station about 3/4 miles up the highway. “No really, I think I can see the sign for it and make out the shape of the gatehouse.”

It was enough hope to put a little more spring in our step and make us quicken the pace. Dani was the only one that felt hesitant about it. “I don’t want to go there daddy, those places scare me.” She sounded sincerely afraid.

“They’re just places where the trucks are weighed, Danielle, they’re owned by the State. They’re perfectly safe.” Mom tried to reassure her.

“Yeah, but James & I have both seen weird lights coming out of them, in the middle of the night. And James heard a strange sound. What if it’s abandoned and robbers live in there?”

“Why would criminals pick a remote stretch of desert to prey on their victims?” Dad tried to reason. “They’d have like one victim a year.”

That did seem logical. Besides, if there were people there, I wanted to ask them about the lights & that high-pitched sound.

6.

By the time we reached the ramp to the weigh station nobody even noticed the tiny, broken “CLOSED – NO TRESPASSING” sign that was barely hanging from a fence next to the roadway. I doubt it would have dissuaded us anyway. Dad was determined to find a pay-phone somewhere on this property and the rest of us just wanted a place to sit down and cold water to drink.

It was obvious that the State was no longer maintaining the property. There were empty beer bottles and other trash strewn around here & there. There were even some ashes inside what looked like a make-shift fire pit some teenagers probably made to come out here and get into trouble.

I decided to turn off my Walkman to conserve the batteries while I was looking around. Plus I wanted to see if I could hear that high-pitched buzzing sound again.

We poked around the grounds for about 15 minutes. Everything was completely shuttered. There was actually a telephone booth on the far side of the gatehouse but the receiver had been yanked off of it and now just some loose wires hung from where the receiver should have been.

Dad tried to look into the gatehouse windows but they were too dirty and too well sealed to see anything inside. He tried the door handles, just for good measure. They were rusted shut. There was a garage door on one side that was triple padlocked.

“It’s obvious this place is no longer in service and was abandoned long ago. I don’t really think we should be here. Isn’t this trespassing?” Maybe it was women’s intuition, but the uncharacteristic concern in mom’s voice was apparent and unsettling.

“I guess you’re right. It’s almost noon, we should probably move along. There’s no point in lingering here I suppose,” Dad said with an air of defeat.

We started to retie our shoes and gather our packs when out-of-nowhere we heard a soft clicking noise coming from somewhere around the side door of the gatehouse which was about 18 feet from where we stood.

“Did you hear that?” Dad asked. We all nodded our heads. “I recognize that sound from somewhere…”

“What was it?” Asked mom & Dani.

“I don’t know…” Dad trailed off as he walked back over towards the doorway. I followed him. We looked the doorway up & down, back & forth. Dad put his ear up to the door. But we no longer heard the “clicking.”

We were about to give up when suddenly it hit him. “That’s the sound…wait a minute…” I don’t know what possessed him but he pulled his Swiss Army knife out of his pocket, opened the blade and reached up to the security light that was hung above the doorway. He started scraping at the oversized chrome fixture that hung above the light bulb. The paint flaked off of it easily, revealing what looked to me like a metal ball inside.

I think we both let out an audible gasp when, with three fast clicks, the eye of a camera shifted to look down, directly at us.

7.

What happened next is still somewhat of a blur.  But I remember the harsh, scraping metal sound the garage door made as it flew open…

to be continued

this post is part of my response to the @indieink writing challenges. my prompt via @lazidaisical will be revealed at the end.

1.

It was 1996…and I remember it as clearly as if it just happened a few hours ago…

The four of us – dad, mom, Dani & I – started out around 7 AM on a Friday morning. This was going to be the road trip of all road trips, even if it was with my parents.

The brand new minivan had that awesome new car smell and we loved playing with all the cubbies & cup holders. Okay, so the van was eggplant purple, but we didn’t care. (Seriously dad…purple? WTF?)

Anyway, we had no idea how that road trip would change our lives, forever. It was supposed to be a month long trek across the United States, starting in Northeast Ohio where we lived, out to California through the southern states and then up through Colorado, Montana, the Dakotas, Michigan and back home.

We made it down to Georgia before things started to get, shall we say, a bit odd. Well, that’s not exactly true. The fact that dad insisted we stay only in La Quinta hotels and only eat at places designated on the AAA triptiks was a little weird to begin with. But nothing compared to what started happening by the time we began to cross the central southern states.

I don’t think it would have been nearly as noticeable if we had driven during the day. But dad was used to working midnights so he decided to stay on that schedule and do the bulk of the driving in the dark. That was probably our first mistake.

You can drive those highways for thousands of miles and not see another car. You’ll see cornfields, deserts, some power lines and the weigh stations. More weigh stations than there are McDonalds or bathrooms. (Who needs a bathroom when you have gallon jugs? Thanks mom.)

I think Dani was the first one to notice the lights. She had designated the middle section of the van her personal palace; I took the far back and the trunk area, where I constructed a blanket fort that could have won national building awards.

Mom & I were sound asleep. Dad was “in the zone.” I’m not sure why Dani was awake, she probably needed to use “the jug.”

“DAD! Did you see that?!” she yelled, jolting mom & I out of our pleasant dreams of Waffle House pecan waffles and bacon flavored coffee.

Dad nearly swerved and hit a…well, come to think of it, there was nothing around for him to hit, but it was scary just the same. “What?! WHAT?! You scared the crap out of me, what was it?” he asked.

“Back there at that weigh station, I saw a streak of lightning. Except it was orange, and it came from inside the weigh station itself. It was like it surrounded the gatehouse for a split-second, then was gone.”

“Most of these weigh stations are abandoned and they’re all closed at this time of night. I’m sure it was just your imagination, you’re very tired. You need to try to get some sleep.”

“No, I know what I saw. The whole station lit up with an orange glow.”

“Let’s just all calm down and go back to sleep. We have a big day tomorrow in San Antonio.”

With that the moment faded away and we all went back to sleep. Dad stayed half awake, so as to keep the minivan between the “navigational beacons.”

2.

I was the next one to notice something strange going on with the weigh stations. We were about three hours outside of Albuquerque, New Mexico. I was pulling an all-nighter on my Gameboy.

Mom always said I had doglike hearing. If I hadn’t heard the high pitched humming as we approached the ramp to the weigh station my attention may have never diverted from the game…

to be continued…

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