Red Centre (23 page)

***

Dragging tired feet down the hall towards
his bedroom, Chris stopped in front of Shawn’s bedroom. He slowly
opened the door and turned on the light. It was a teenage boy’s
room. Posters of cars and his favorite bands lined the walls. His
bed was neatly made. It felt so empty.

Even though he knew Shawn wasn’t there, he
still had to check it. He had been looking in on his children ever
since they were born. It was habit, his duty to check on him.

Chris stumbled into the master bedroom. Kate
was already sound asleep. Sitting gently on his side of the bed, he
realized the device was in his hand. He had forgotten to return it
to command center for safe keeping. He placed it on top of his
bedside table, covering it with a sock to keep it out of sight. It
could wait until morning.

***

Moonlight flowed into the room along with a
small breeze through the partially open window. Kate was peaceful.
Chris tossed and turned. It was 3 a.m. In and out of sleep; his
mind still going.

He slowly drifted into a light sleep. Then
suddenly something rattled in the house. Just a small noise. Maybe
the house settling in for the night. Temperature changes making the
house creak; at least that was what he told himself. Nothing to get
worried about.

Chris’ eyes heavy again. Closing them, he
drifted.

Jolting, his eyes snapped open. He sat up
and scanned the room. Kate slept soundly beside him—the sleeping
pills doing their job. All okay. He rolled to his stomach, pounding
his pillow, trying to get comfortable. Breathing deeply, he
considered taking some of his wife’s meds. He had thrown his out
long ago. He hoped he would soon succumb to a deep sleep.

Soon his eyes fluttered, his body falling
asleep again. He began to snore, but his mind and body were still
active. He rolled to his back.

In the still and silent bedroom a small red
glow slowly lit up the room. One by one, the alien symbols around
the oval object began to light up under the sock. The strip through
the middle illuminated. Chris grunted and tossed and turned, as
though he was trying to wake up, but couldn’t.

After a moment, Chris’
eyes opened, one more than the other. It was blurry and he was
still mostly asleep. For just a minute he thought he saw a
distorted, dark figure appear in the doorway. His mind playing
tricks after all of that web surfing. Focusing his eyes, there was
nothing there.
Maybe I should get up, just
to check
, he thought. That was his last
thought, the battle lost—eyes closed once more.

Long, gray fingers stretched out, taking the
oval object in its palm. The red glow went out, leaving the room in
darkness once more.

Chris opened one of his eyes. A distorted
gray face, with large, black, almond eyes, peered into Chris’. Its
head turning slightly, watching and observing. He wanted to scream,
to leap out of bed—but, seemingly against his will, his eyes
closed. Too heavy to open. His body too heavy to move; his mind
dream-like.

***

Chris jolted awake, sucking in air, sitting
up in bed. He frantically scanned the room, rubbing his eyes. The
curtains bounced about in the wind.

Just a dream!
he told himself. Surely.

His heart pounded. So real.

He did another quick scan of the room.
Empty. No intruder. No gray. His attention was drawn to Kate as she
moved a little.

He carefully laid his head
back on the pillow. 4:23 a.m. He slowed his breathing.
It’s okay
, he told
himself.

Letting his mind wander. It would be sun up
soon and he had barely slept. A long day at the office was ahead of
him. Calling in sick was an option.

Remembering the device on his bedside table,
he reached for it without looking. He tapped around. Nothing.

Flipping to his side he checked. The reading
lamp snapped on. The device was gone! All the fine hairs on his
body instantly stood on end at what he was looking at: a photo of
Shawn sat in its place. Drops of purple blood stained some of it.
He snatched it, examining the photo. Tears welled up. His mind
thrown back to outback Australia. He had placed this same photo in
the wounded gray’s hand.

The suddenly realization
hit him like fire:
the
fuckers are here!

His eyes grew wide, nostrils flared—truly
awake. Glancing to check Kate, she had her back to him, sleeping
peacefully, unaware of the events. He placed his hand on her
shapely waist, shaking her awake. “Someone’s in the house!” he said
in a cautious whisper.

***

Baseball bat in hand, Chris hurried down the
hallway, Kate close behind. Fear in their eyes.

He burst into the girls’ room. They jolted
from deep sleep. Fear instantly filled their faces. They knew
something was wrong and cried a barrage of questions. Chris told
them to be calm and quiet. He moved into their room to lock it
down. No signs of forced entry. At least they were safe, for
now.

“
Take the girls!” He spun
to face Kate, who had run to her girls. “Lock yourselves in the
bathroom.”

Chris darted out the girls’ door.

Shawn’s bedroom door burst open. Empty.

He rushed down the stairs. Two at a time. A
powerful red glow shone through the windows. So bright. So red. He
felt as if he was on Mars. Making it to the bottom of the steps,
his head and body spun, trying to locate a target.

Were they here just to take back their
property? Their alien device? Were they here for him? Were they
here for his family? Was this revenge? His mind racing with
questions.

Chris made his way through the crimson
house, finally ending up in the kitchen. The back door wide open.
Light poured in.

Chris slammed it shut. Locking the door.

He had to protect his family. Breathing with
a degree of relief—no harm had come to them. But this was also what
he wanted, to make further contact. His son was still out there.
And they knew where he was and if he was still alive.

Suddenly a figure cast a shadow through the
window and across the room. Tall and slender. He knew that shape;
it was a gray trying to make an escape. Chris gripped the bat
tightly.

The back door ripped open. Chris stormed
outside. The cool, spring night air whipped violently as though it
had been disturbed. He shielded his eyes from the bright light
above, quickly scanning the area, looking for the gray.

A lonely figure stood on the lawn. Without
thought or fear Chris rushed towards it, bat ready, cocked for a
fully-loaded swing. Suddenly he stopped, a few feet short.

The figure in front of him … human—their
back towards him.

With a lump in his throat, he wasn’t sure if
what he was seeing was real. He lowered the bat, calling softly,
“Shawn?”

The figure remained still. Chris knew
Shawn’s short, brown hair, his build. After all this time and the
strange red light, it was hard to imagine, but he knew.

“
Shawn?” he called. Almost
frightened for him to actually turn around. What if it wasn’t him?
Did he dare hope again? What if Shawn’s brain was fried?

The person slowly turned. A dazed,
semi-hypnotic look possessed Shawn’s face.

“
Shawn!” Chris called
again, seeing it was indeed his son. He quickly closed the gap,
grabbing his son in a tight hug.

After a moment, Shawn kick off his
disorientated trance and suddenly realized he was home and in the
arms of his father. “Dad! Dad,” was all he could say. He returned
the hug.

The red glow slowly faded as the craft
ascended further and further into the sky, until the Marshall men
were nothing more than little dots, almost like ants left on the
earth.

The craft continued to soar into the night
sky, becoming what looked to be a small star amongst the heavens
above.

Chris watched on as he held onto Shawn. He
couldn’t believe his son had finally been returned, but he feared
that these supreme creatures were not done with his family; that it
wouldn’t be the last he’d see of these Sky Beings.