"First rule of skepticism ..... never fool yourself." Her husband managed to get out before he slammed his mouth shut.
Martha’s body shivered spastically in the night’s clammy dampness.
"Come on," Kevin said decidedly, pulling her to her feet, "let’s get you inside.
You’ve had a long day."
Not long after, Martha lay rigidly on her side of the bed listening to the sound of Kevin’s loud, monotonous snoring. It wasn’t the noise that was keeping her awake, though. After sleeping in the same bed as her husband for fifteen years now, his snoring was just so much more background noise, like the constant dripping of the sink faucet in the bathroom down the hall.
No, what was keeping Martha from sleep was that last conversation with her youngest son. She couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it. This is ridiculous, she thought disgustedly.
Martha crawled out of bed and into her robe, tying the sash firmly as she made her way down the stairs to the living room. She fumbled in the darkness on the coffee table for the remote to the television. Slowly, the room acquired that eerie, flickering light the TV gives off and she starting clicking rapidly through the channels. At three in the morning her viewing was somewhat limited.
She skimmed past various fitness ads; whiter teeth ads; jewelry sales on the shopping networks, the Rifleman and an old Cary Grant movie. Finally, she settled on CNN and laid back onto the couch, pulling one of Nana’s crocheted afghans over her.
A man with a well bred British accent and a tie that looked as though it had been drawn by a hyperactive third grader was reading the news as if it were nothing more interesting than a weekly grocery list. It had been a few days since Martha had taken the time to catch the latest news but she found things really hadn’t changed much. Or, she corrected herself, at least they hadn’t improved any.
There were the usual heinous crimes and tragedies that somehow had become an accepted part of every day society. As she listened it occurred to her that much of the news consisted of natural disasters, seemingly on every continent.
Weather patterns were apparently spinning out of control. These days what was considered extreme weather had become the rule rather than the exception. Today, everywhere you looked there were epic floods; droughts; wildfires; killer tornadoes; earthquakes and epidemic diseases. As a matter of fact, Martha realized with a jolt, these catastrophic events were becoming almost common place throughout the planet.
Easy girl, she thought to herself clicking the TV off. She sat for a moment in the complete blackness of the living room before she wearily got up and wandered over to a window to peer up at the night sky.
What if Nana had been right? What if the signs really were all there? What if .....
just what if, she silently asked herself, this really was the beginning of the Great Purification?
Chapter 37
By the time Happy arrived the poker game was just breaking up. He burst through the front door causing everyone inside to momentarily freeze midway through whatever it was they had been doing.
"You’re too late, Happy," commented Fed Larson as he pulled on his jacket, "Mink’s already cleaned us all out. Try us again next week." It took him a full minute longer to register the sight of the Winchester Happy was cradling in his arm.
Mink walked over and took one look at Happy’s face. "Heh, get this man a beer," he yelled as he pushed Happy down into the closest chair at hand.
While someone scurried into the kitchen the rest of the men gathered closely around Happy.
"What the hell’s the matter with you?" asked Mink. "Christ, you look like you’ve seen a ghost or something."
"Something," mumbled Happy as he gratefully took a long swig of the ice cold beer.
Carefully, Fed disengaged Happy’s hand from it’s tight grasp on the Winchester.
He cocked the breach open and sniffed. From the acidic smell of it he knew the gun had been discharged recently ..... very recently. Shit, I guess I’ve got to go to work, thought Fed as he pushed his hat back on his head.
By the time the Budweiser was half gone, Happy’s breathing had almost returned to normal. Spike, on the other hand, still sounded pretty winded as he lay on the floor panting by Happy’s feet.
Putting the gun safely aside, Fed lowered his bulky frame down onto his haunches in front of Happy.
"Want to tell me what’s going on, Hap?" he asked steadily. "It’s too damn early for deer."
Happy shifted uncomfortably on the hard wooden chair. Here goes nothing, he thought to himself. "I shot me an alien." he said bluntly. His remark was met by stone silence. God knows it wasn’t funny, but he couldn’t refrain from laughing at the expressions on the men’s faces turned towards him. "Yeh, I know you boys don’t believe a word of it, but just hear me out anyway."
Pausing only once or twice to take a swallow of the fresh beer someone handed him, Happy recounted all of the events within the last few weeks that had led up to what he’d done earlier that night. When he was finished you really could have heard a pin drop ...... no one said a word.
It was Fed Larson who finally broke the silence. "That’s quite a tale, Hap. You really expect us to believe all that?" When there was no reply, Fed continued talking as he helped Happy to his feet. "What do you say I give you and that old dog of yours a lift home? Sounds to me like what you need is to sleep this one off. Sure everything will look a whole lot different by the light of day."
Feigning obedience, Happy shuffled out to Fed’s truck. The hell with them, he thought angrily ....... the hell with them all.
Chapter 38
Miserable, Sam wasn’t sure if she wanted to cry or scream. It didn’t really make any difference because she realized she didn’t have the energy for either. She propped her elbows up on the table and put her face in her hands. She sighed tiredly.
"Want a brandy?" Per asked.
"Jesus, yes."
They both sat silently at the table. Sam slumped in her chair and Per leaned forward in his. He stared at her as she stared into her half - finished glass of Hennesy.
"Heh," she said, craning her neck to look up at Per, "know when you’re a little kid and everything seems really confusing to you? And you keep waiting and waiting until the day you grow up so you can understand everything?"
Per just shrugged.
"Oh yeah, I forgot ....." Sam mumbled, clearing her throat. "Anyway, what I was going to say was that I guess I’m still waiting to grow up because I don’t understand a damn thing."
Per fixed her with those eyes of his, which could be so warm they made her knees weak or so cold they made her turn to ice inside. Sam tried unsuccessfully to break his gaze. Giving up, she shoved her empty glass into his face, "How about a refill?"
"Later." His chair squeeked loudly as he shoved it back, holding out his strong hand to her expectantly.
Without any hesitation, Sam took his hand firmly into hers and wordlessly followed him upstairs. When they reached her room Per turned toward her. His first kiss was gentle and many times more intoxicating than the brandy she had been drinking only moments before.
"Guess it’s too late to play hard to get?" was the last thing she said just before her mouth dissolved under his for good.
The whole room seemed to be awash in silvery light. To Sam the moon seemed brighter than usual. Turning to Per she asked curiously, "Do you have a moon on your planet?"
"Actually, we have two moons. One is a bit smaller than the other and they are different colors." he replied.
Jesus, this is insane, Sam thought. She couldn’t have stopped herself if she had wanted to, she started to first giggle and then laugh hysterically.
"What’s so funny?" inquired Per propping himself up onto his elbow.
"Sorry ..... " Sam gasped for breath. "I was just thinking of something my mother used to say to me when I started dating."