Pew! Pew! - The Quest for More Pew! Page 13

  After his frantic search for the laser gun, he realized he had worked his way into a corner and would have to dig his way out of the cargo bay so he could get off the ship. “Fark,” he said under his breath as he began tossing trash bags from one end of the cargo bay to the other to clear a path for the door. “I really didn’t think this through.” The effort of tossing all the trash made his sweating worse and drove him to a point where he was having trouble breathing and had to stop. He leaned against the bulkhead, bracing himself with one arm while the other hand’s fingers danced along the handle of the laser gun with anticipation. Something about being armed makes me feel like a real man, he thought with an evil grin. It’s time to do what I never had the chance to do in the Army.

  Catching his breath again, Ben continued to dig his way out of the cargo bay and finally freed enough space to get to the cargo bay door. He stopped for a moment, looking at the panel that would open the door and remove the barrier between him and Earth. “I haven’t seen home in over year,” he said under his breath. He often wondered, on the return trip back, how much might have changed in his absence. He never would have thought it would be taken over by aliens, subjecting humanity to slavery or outright killing them all. Whatever it was, he was about to find out the hard way. Ben took a deep breath, exhaling slowly through his mouth as he reached out his hand towards the console to open the cargo bay door. All the muscles in his body tightened with fear of what awaited him on the other side as he pressed the button.

  Nothing happened.

  He pushed the button again, repeating the process over and over with no results.

  “What the hell?” He opened the maintenance pane and discovered one of the wires had been pulled out of the circuit card that controlled the cargo bay door. The farking aliens must have sabotaged my door when they came to take Chip, he thought, hatred flooding his mind. He reached in with his left hand, grabbing hold of the wire, and moved to insert it in the terminal on the circuit card. In doing so, his metal hand made contact with the casing of the maintenance panel and sent sparks in all directions as if something was being welded. It startled him, but luckily it did not hurt. The cargo bay door began to move slowly as it opened. Ben had to keep his hand in place, maintaining contact with the wire in the circuit board or else the door would stop moving. He kept one hand on his gun, afraid of what might come after him, but more than willing to stand his ground.

  “Come and get me, if you dare,” he said as the door stop moving dramatically. He looked around before thinking, if I want to save Chip, I have to go out there. But despite the big balls he thought he had, trepidation threatened to keep him on the ship. But if the shoe was on the other foot, Ben thought, he would come after me.

  And without another thought about it, Ben took his first step off the Shistain and back into his home world.

  Chap+er Six

  Finally stepping off the ship, Ben was met with a dark, devastated world. What he saw looked like something ripped from the pages of a dystopian novel written by an author whose name rhymed with “Brew Bravery”. The surrounding buildings were dilapidated, the bricks crushed under the weight of whatever weapon the aliens used to try to annihilate Earth. The skies above were filled with lightning against a dark canvas of black clouds obscuring the mothership he knew was orbiting above the planet. It was hell in every aspect of imagination.

  He slowly moved down the cargo bay ramp and out onto the filthy asphalt alley where the ship landed. There were no signs of anyone in the area, living or dead, but he hoped to find someone to help him in the coming war against the alien invasion. “I’ve got this,” he whispered under his breath, trying to defeat the rampant fear coursing through his veins and causing his heart to race. “I’ve got to do this for Chip.”

  Like an exclamation point to his statement, a clap of thunder and a flash of lightning made the dark sky look like day above him. The trepidation of being in such a fractured version of the Earth he left behind made him think that he was in an alternate reality. There’s no way this is home, he thought sadly. They’ve taken everything.

  He moved away from the ship, lurking in the shadows and keeping his body close to what remained of the brick walls of the outlying structures. He heard sounds of the city, but they were distant and muffled. He hoped that meant humanity had not fully dissolved, but it was just as likely the aliens had made this their new home and filled the metropolis with their evil, cultural filth. He patted the laser gun holstered to his right thigh. It served as a reminder of the deadly stakes involved in what he was doing.

  Another flash of lightning. Another roll of thunder. Another wild undulation in his stomach threatened to overcome his body. But still he walked, though not fully erect. He already felt defeated, but he knew that was the fear of failure speaking louder than the spirit of the fight that was within him. Sadness over what the world had become ignited his anger. It was a delicate balance of two emotions that did not belong together. There are a lot of things emotionally that do not belong, he thought. My entire life is filled with the juxtaposition of two worlds colliding. I wanted to be loved and accepted, but instead my life has been more loathsome unacceptance. If only I could have gone another way to make my life my own.

  The sound of sirens filled his ears as he stumbled out of the alley and onto a side street. All the streetlights were out, and none of the windows showed signs of life in the buildings that seem to be relatively intact. He wondered if inside those buildings were lifeless bodies of humans, or perhaps the aliens devoured remains in order to consume the souls of the dead. Aliens have been portrayed in many ways over the course of centuries—there is no telling which version was accurate. But Ben knew this: if they were willing to invade Earth, they were willing to do any damn thing.

  He slowly walked closer to the sound of the sirens, hoping to find another person and not more disappointment. As his heart raced, the urge to puke grew worse like high tide on a sandy shore. He stopped, leaning against the brick building next to him, as he flooded the sidewalk with whatever remained in his stomach. The smell of soured Vienna Sausages caused his stomach to turn more, but there was nothing left to produce except the dry heaving that made it hard for him to breathe and put him on the brink of passing out again. He closed his eyes tight, gasping for air as he pinched his nose, hoping to mask the smell so it wasn’t so in his face. After a moment, he regained his composure, and on wobbly legs he continued his walk towards imminent war.

  Chap+er Seven

  A sound filled Ben’s ear, reminiscence of a roaring tiger mixed with a croaking frog, but Ben did not know exactly what it was. Cautiously rounding the corner and peering around the building, he looked down the dimly lit street. Whatever the sound is, it is getting closer, he thought as he squinted his eyes to compensate for the light. He supposed he should be grateful that the city was in complete darkness, other than the area around the ship which was cloaked in shadows, but a part of him felt more anxious because being in the light made him easier to spot by the aliens.

  He hunkered down, drawing his laser gun from its holster and grabbing a grenade from his bandolier, ready for presumably anything. As the sound grew closer, he peeked around the corner again, holding his breath and hoping he had the resolve to do what was necessary to protect the planet.

  Coming over the hill and cast in shadows, the source of the noise revealed itself. It’s monstrous, Ben thought as he stared at the flying beast approaching. Against the silhouette of streetlights, the alien looked like a large turtle riding a flying chariot. Atop its head was an armored helmet that look like the ones the Nazis wore in World War II from the documentaries he used to watch. The only exception being the large metallic spike situated at the top of its head. Not knowing if the laser gun would be effective against an alien with that type of armor, Ben did the only thing he could think to do, and lobbed the grenade straight towards the alien menace.

  As he jumped out of the alley, flinging the grenade with all his might, the al
ien roared and squealed as he grew closer. The grenade, apparently a dud, struck the alien where Ben presumed its face would be, directly under the Nazi helmet. The blow sent the alien off its chariot, causing it to fall onto its back as the chariot skidded towards Ben on a path filled with sparks and the smell of burning fuel.

  The alien lay in the street holding itself, muffled cries of agony emanating from its body. Ben approached cautiously, holding his laser gun tightly in his hand and ready to pull the trigger if needed. “What are you doing on my planet?” Ben asked, holding his laser gun over the body of the alien. Blood was everywhere, red like a human, but the nasally cries of the beast made Ben suspicious. “I asked you a farking question?”

  Ben subconsciously felt a presence surrounding him, but he tried to will it away as if he had the power to overcome the trepidation building inside of him, covering it like dirt under a rug until it was too late. They spoke, pleading words as they lamented over their fallen, using words that Ben could understand as if he was one of them. But he knew better.

  “Get back! I’ll shoot every single one of you, I swear I will!” he shouted, lifting the laser gun in his hand, his finger firmly caressing the trigger guard like it was life support.

  More uttered words of concern spilled from the devious mouths of the unholy alien race. Put down the gun. Everything will be all right. Someone get a doctor. Are you crazy? These are all just words they’re using to try and confuse me so they can eat my brain, Ben thought as he turned the laser gun on each dark face of the menacing crowd. To Ben, it felt as if he was about to get ganked by hooded thugs, only they didn’t want his money.

  “I’m telling you, if anyone takes another step closer I will blast your bug-looking-ass to kingdom come. Don’t try me,” he warned, his lips tightening as his blood ran cold. It could be the fear or the fever, either way, I have to get out of here. “Back up you farkers!” Ben tried to force his way through the ring of aliens, but they closed in on him, chanting as they reached their spindly arms in his direction. “No.”

  His words fell on deaf ears, if aliens had ears, but even if they did, they did not listen as they grabbed at him, pulling him to the ground to consume him. Ben squeezed the trigger, the dull click of a drained laser gun firing harmless noise and nothing that could save him. He thought he heard them laugh, but his ears felt clogged as the darkness enveloped him, sending him to an unconscious sleep.

  Sending him to the proverbial mothership.

  Ben came to trapped in a tight, white box with two aliens poking and prodding him. He tried to move, to get away from the unusual species as they prepared to dissect him, or to find some other means to take his life from him. But it was a futile effort, as straps held him down along his torso and legs. “Let me go,” he uttered, not having the energy to scream. With every fiber of his being, he wanted to rip the straps off and attack his abductors. “I said to let me go.”

  But they did no such thing. Instead, they continued to do their bidding.

  The smaller of the two aliens, which had a distinctly female sounding voice, was speaking as she pulled a syringe from behind her. Ben could not tell what she was saying due to the muffled ringing in his ears. It doesn’t matter what she’s saying, he thought, it’s all going to end the same either way. She’s going to stick that thing in my posterior and they are going to turn me into a slave. The alien to his right placed a cold hand on his arm, holding it in place as the female alien stabbed the syringe into his arm. He felt cold fluid injected into his vein and as a last ditch effort to try and escape the madness, Ben began to fight. First by shifting and thrashing wildly, then by grabbing hold of anything he could get his hands on.

  He never knew the strength of his left arm, Gli+chy, but she revealed an impressive display of power as he was able to grip the strap near his waist and twist it with his left hand causing the strap to tighten at first before pulling out the mount on the bed he was on. The two aliens backed away, muttering to each other in their foreign dialects, as Gli+chy made short work of two other straps. Both aliens descended upon him, trying to hold him down, but without thinking about it, Ben used the momentum of his heavy, cybernetic arm to slam into the larger alien to his right, punching him in the chest violently and sending him careening into the bulkhead of their medical pod. “I told you to let me go,” Ben said through his teeth.

  The stress was getting to him and beginning to take its toll he realized as he clenched his teeth and struggled to free himself. The sweat on his brow dripped onto the bed and soaked into his t-shirt as glimpses of what led him to this point flashed through his mind. First witnessing the alien invasion from space, followed by crashing to Earth and destroying his ship, and now the bastards abducting him. It was all getting to be too much and he was not enthusiastic about discovering what would be in his future if he didn’t get out of here.

  The female alien shrieked, backing away from Ben, but she evidently had some fight left in her as she grabbed a weapon reminiscent of a baseball bat and held it firmly in her hands in an aggressive manner. Ben glanced to his right, looking at the other alien slumped against the bulkhead, unconscious. He then looked back at the female, in the region where he saw her eyes partially obscured by the mask of her armor. They were wide, green, and calculating. Ben try to sit up, but the shoulder straps holding him down would not relent. He grabbed the strap with Gli+chy and yanked, snapping the strap in one fell swoop before lifting his upper torso from the bed. That seemed to be the moment the female alien lost her shit and moved towards him aggressively, lifting the bat-weapon above her head and bringing it down like a lumberjack chopping wood. Ben flinched and lifted Gli+chy to defend him from the oncoming barrage of deadly blows. The first strike made a ringing sound as it struck the metallic surface of his arm. The next blow splintered the bat and made both Ben and the alien stare at the stump of wood left in the alien’s hand. Ben would have laughed at any other time, but he was too busy defending himself against his aggressor to see the humor in such a situation. Besides, the two blows of the bat to Gli+chy had damaged her severely, and now she whirred madly as his left hand spun uncontrollably. “Not now,” Ben said, upset by the fact she was damaged and unable to do anything about it. The alien tried to step closer, to intervene with what was going on but Gli+chy, having a mind of her own, swung hazardously at the alien, slapping it across side of its head and bringing it to the deck in a dull thud. Thusly incapacitated and giving Ben a much-needed moment to catch his breath.

  Ben sat there, impressed by the fact he single-handedly defeated two aliens. “Holy shit, I’m a farking badass,” he muttered, staring down at the unconscious female alien. But the sound behind him cut his celebration short, as the first alien took hold of Ben by the neck and slammed him to the bed. Using his free hand to grab a syringe and inject a sickly alien goo into the side of Ben’s neck. While Gli+chy spun furiously at his side, Ben’s right hand gripped the arm of the alien, trying to fight, but he was too drained to put up a fight any longer. Succumbing to the goo, Ben watched the light fade in the alien’s medical pod. He knew the darkness would take him as the sudden sick undulation of his stomach collided with the cool goo coursing through his veins, plummeting him into a world where he could do nothing to defend himself. A place where the inevitable probing would begin.

  Chap+er Eigh+

  Waking up in the hospital, Ben had a pounding headache. He opened his groggy eyes and immediately regretted it due to the bright light reflecting off the stark, white walls and ceiling of his hospital room. “Oh God, turn it off,” he groaned. His head fell back onto the pillow, and he found it moist from sweat and that made him cringe. Stirring set off a buzzer and soon he was not alone.

  “Is there something I can help you with?” A man stepped into the room. He sounded young to Ben’s ear.

  Covering his face with his hands, Ben spread his fingers just enough to let him see who was coming through the door. “Who are you, and where the fark am I?” Ben asked, not intending to swea
r, but finding himself unable to resist the habitual language he picked up during his brief stint in the Army.

  The man Ben presumed was a doctor pulled up a chair, the feet of it making a light, squeaky sound as it was pulled across the floor. “Do you remember anything that happened to you?”

  Ben thought for a moment, the last thing he remembered was sitting on his ship, watching old World War IV documentaries while Chip imitated the voices, everything after that felt like a sick dream in fractured moments of time. Some glimpses were more vivid than others, but none of them seemed to make any sense. “Not really,” he replied.

  “Well, I suppose that’s unfortunate,” the doctor said scratching his head as he pulled a tablet from the foot of Ben’s hospital bed and scanned it. “Perhaps we gave you too many sedatives to calm you down. It’s difficult to get a proper weight of someone with an unorthodox, cybernetic prosthetic. Hopefully, your memories will return.”

  “Oh yeah? And why would you need to sedate me and calm me down when I don’t even remember coming back to Earth?” Ben asked, feeling as if the doctor was about to lay something heavy on his lap and he wanted to be prepared for it. The light was no longer burning his eyes quite as bad so he lowered his hands, careful not to pull any of the tubes out of his arms. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it was manageable and he didn’t have to feel like a wuss for hiding his eyes from the light.