Second Chances (2 page)

“Not just there,” John muttered, looking into his coffee.

“Hey John, long time no see! I'm wondering now, didn't I see lights out your way last year?” Benny asked, noticing John at the bar.

“Yeah and yeah, I saw them aliens too,” John admitted. The bartender blinked at him. Carefully she set the glass she'd been cleaning down slowly.

Benny stared at him, mouth gaping. It wasn't like someone would admit to something like that easily; it was pure nut-job stuff. Loony tunes.

“Why didn't you say so?” Benny asked finally, licking his lips.

“That's 'cause I thought it was a dream. Now, I'm not sure,” he said with a shrug.

“What were they like?” the bartender asked, loud enough for others to hear. The room grew quiet as one by one people poked others and then subtly pointed or nodded their chin in his direction.

John shook his head, now uncomfortable about being put on the spot. He wished he'd blown it off, or just shrugged it off. Definitely kept his mouth shut. But it was out now, so maybe some good would come of it. Besides, they'd said others had seen it, and Benny was his witness. “They aren't squids, jellyfish. Glowing ones that can fly. They changed colors too and were all sizes, big to truck size,” He said, indicating the room. “They said the world's coming to an end in a few years,” he said. She blinked at him. “Said something about an asteroid. The one I talked to said they'll be back in one year to pick me and my stuff up. That's...” he frowned thoughtfully, “in a month I reckon.” He paused, cocking his head. “Thirty-three days from now,” he said finally.

“Um...”

“I didn't believe it then. Thought I'd dreamed it all or something. Oops.”

“Yeah, oops!” Benny said. “Can I come too?”

John shook his head. “The aliens said me and what I own.” He looked up, now thoughtful as the implications set in. “Yeah. I guess I should pack,” he said as he snorted. He downed his coffee, paid the bar tab and paid for rounds for the house and left. Everyone in the building watched him go; not one person said a word. When he walked away he saw a few rise to look at him out the window.

John lifted his chin, hell if he was going to hunch his shoulders and slink around. No, if they were right, he was in trouble; he'd find a way out. Time to take it seriously, he thought. He went back to the general store and cleaned out his account stocking up on anything he could think of. He picked up an old beat-up tow trailer and towed it loaded with stuff home.

~~~~~~(@)~~~~~~

John looked up when the dogs whined and growled. He frowned as he heard the familiar mechanical sound of an approaching vehicle. “Great, tourists,” he muttered. It had been three days since he'd been in town; probably about right for word to get around he thought. Hopefully not a news crew; that was all he didn't need.

He frowned when he recognized Sheriff Milt's black and white police SUV. He was visited by a harassed social worker, the amused sheriff and other authorities. John was annoyed by the distraction and intrusion, so he brushed their questions off. “What? I paid my taxes,” John said. “I don't want any trouble here folks; you can go on your way,” he said, busy restacking a pile of wood.

“Neither do we, but we've got to follow orders,” the Sheriff said. “Since you're an old hand at visits like this...” the Sheriff said, one hand on his gun belt. “You won't mind me looking around,” he said. “For my own safety,” he pointed out.

“I'm not on probation, Milt,” John said stiffly. “But go on, be my guest. Get it out of your system. My rifle and other weapons are in the usual places. One's above the door, and yeah, it's loaded. Bear, you know how it is. Got a rubber bullet in the spout.”

“Okay,” Sheriff Milt said, nodding. “If you answer their questions, we'll be out of your hair faster than you know it,” he suggested.

John snorted. “Not soon enough,” he grumbled, as the fat guy, balding guy and woman in a daisy dress stood in a row in front of the truck. “Fine, what's your pleasure?” he demanded, as the Sheriff checked him over and then went on to check the property. He checked the inside of the cabin over, then went over to the dogs. They gave him a sniff down as he listened to the social worker interview John. The guy in the rumpled suit with the busy body social worker just listened, clearly bored. He rubbed his chin as John went through his story again.

“Well, I think we've heard enough,” Milt said, brushing his hands off as he got to his feet. The sheriff noted nothing he said or was doing was wrong. He poked around, then tipped his hat and waved the others to leave.

John watched them go, then went back to work. He was glad Milt was an understanding sort; some Sheriffs were prickly about a con owning a gun. Of course everyone in the outback had to have one; you didn't live in bear country without some sort of protection.

He packed, then wrote a will, leaving everything to Tony, a teenager who was stupid enough to buy a nearly played-out mine in the back of nowhere nearby. The kid was barely eighteen, but he had one hell of a lot of grit. He had to admire the kid's spunk.

He ordered stuff online and paid through the nose for overnight shipping. Anything that can't be delivered in twenty-nine days he skipped. Unfortunately, being in Alaska in early spring was a problem. Fortunately, the fuel trucks were still making rounds. He used a siphon to pump what fuel he had into spare barrels, cans and every fuel tank he had, then had them deliver fuel, topping everything off. He tipped the driver to come back the night before he left if he could.

He went to a local farm and bought animals, everything he could for what gold and money he had. The guy didn't quibble, but he didn't give John his best either. John didn't care. He needed them, even if the rooster kept him up half the damn night crowing, which set the dogs to howling. He lost a few loose chickens to Hanuk and his ilk, but he understood. They were part wild, and the chickens were too stupid to avoid the dogs. He rigged up pens for them until he could figure out a better arrangement.

~~~~~~(@)~~~~~~

Six days before D day John heard on the news that the some rich guy Mitch Chambers something or other had organized some sort of media outing to see him being taken. It had all gone off just as he'd predicted, and it had ignited one hell of a firestorm both in the media and with the politicians. Some had said it was a stunt, even though the entire thing had been filmed live on worldwide news and even the military and FAA admitted something had happened.

Then a couple flights around California went missing. That really kicked up a storm of controversy. Some eggheads at NASA admitted there was a chance a rock the size of Texas was going to hit them. That sparked fear and unrest, which brought out the reserves to restore order.

The military was getting into the act too; they had to show the public that they were doing something positive even though they had little they could do. And of course, vindication that the aliens were real had its own set of headaches for John. People came by to see him, see if he was telling the truth. He'd even been interviewed for the state and national news. Two days before he was due to depart a care package arrived, this one signed by that Chambers fellow's charity he'd set up for people going to be abducted. John checked it out, essential survival gear, most of what he already had. Still, waste not want not so he put it with his pile of gear.

He couldn't blame the media; it was a big thing. Not only finding out that humanity wasn't alone in the universe, but that yeah, aliens were visiting. Unfortunately, that drowned out the vital message that the Earth was about to be hit by an asteroid. He tried to emphasize that in his interview, but of course they cut the doom and gloom bit out and made him sound like a nut. That just made him glad he was leaving.

On the night the aliens came, his neighbors and others came out to see. It was one big send-off party, a kegger. Some of the people joked; they razzed him, slapped him on the shoulder and were generally cruel about the whole thing. He remained stoic working on his last minute preparations. He'd gotten his vehicles in order, and he'd even detached most of the buildings. He wasn't sure if they'd take them, but hell, he'd give it a shot.

But the jokes stopped when the aliens showed up, drifting downward through the clouds like jellyfish floating down from the surface of the ocean. “Well, I'll be doggone,” Tony said, hitching his hat up.

“Ayup, I reckon it's about time,” John said. Benny nodded, shaking hands with him, then pulling him into a bear hug before gruffly letting him go. John nodded to Benny and his family. He patted Tony, the kid neighbor on the shoulder and handed him his will. “I'm leaving everything, the land and what they don't let me take to you kid. Take care of things,” John said gruffly.

Tony nodded, eyes wide. He was still staring off up at the glowing jellyfish as they began to swirl around John's pile of vehicles and stuff. The dogs howled or dived for cover. John snorted and slapped his hands together. “Well folks, be seeing you. Nice knowing you,” he said, giving them a jaunty salute. Then there was a flash, and he was speeding on to the adventure of a lifetime.

~~~~~~(@)~~~~~~

Hanuk and his ilk howled like banshees as they moved through some sort of vortex. John screwed his eyes tightly shut after the first glimpse of whirling lights and sky. He was getting nauseous and knew better than to look. He gritted his teeth and did his best to ride it out.

Chapter 2

They were dropped in a grass field, dozens, possibly hundreds of people, machines, gear, and animals. All neatly dumped in their own individual groups in a circular grid. John had the largest pile of gear by far with his mining equipment, farm gear, wood, and other stuff. Though there were a couple groups that had a lot of vehicles as well, including one couple that had a pair of loaders and a camper and another couple that had a small herd of horses and other animals. He nodded. Good for them, he thought. He coughed and smelled the sickly sweet smell of vomit from animals and people. “Great,” he muttered, fighting the migraine headache he had as he tried to stagger to his knees.

John wasn't the first to recover; another guy came around looking as he groggily got to his feet. Hanuk growled, warning him of the approach. The guy held his hands up and nodded to him. John nodded warily back. “Nice dog mister,” the guy said, hands tight to his side, then he moved on. John watched him go, rubbing Hanuk's ears.

People around him reacted to his sled dogs and other animals. He'd been smart; he'd kept his dogs, plus bought chickens, rabbits, and other animals, whatever he could get his hands on before the aliens showed up. Like a true Alaskan nothing had gone to waste; he had everything up to and including the fixtures, plumbing and kitchen sink from his cabin. Waste not, want not he thought.

Especially here he thought, still getting the lay of the land. His stuff was clustered almost exactly as he'd left it on Earth. Briefly, he wondered if this was heaven or some sort of dream. Then he felt the wind on his face. Whatever it was, it was damn convincing he thought, wrinkling his nose at the smell of vomit and urine. Apparently the animals and probably some of the people hadn't handled the trip well.

The dogs were his best defense he thought. He'd planned carefully to stake them out around the perimeter, just like he did in Alaska. Hanuk was his alpha male; he'd been specifically bred from a wolf bloodline. John was glad he had the dogs. That guy nosing around was obviously a grifter; someone out to steal whatever he could get his hands on. They had a few in Alaska but not many. Neighbors there usually helped each other as much as possible; you had to if you wanted to stay alive. Here it wouldn't be different he thought or at least he hoped not. He'd hate to be sick or injured and not have help.

He noted the area. Vehicles were around, so it was hard to get his bearings. Someone was up on the back of a camper; others climbed up or on their own vehicles. John shook his head. He finally agreed with them. He had to get the lay of the land, so he climbed on top of his dozer.

“It ain't fair man; you've got buildings!” a guy said.

“So?” John asked, not looking down at him. “They are detached from the ground.” He looked over to his panning shed. He'd turned it into a chicken and rabbit coop.

“Still ain't fair man,” the guy grumbled. “They didn't tell us that,” he groused.

“Life's unfair. Get used to it,” John said absently. He heard the guy wander off.

He took out some paper and sketched the area the best he could, getting some idea of a map. He tried to mark identifiable landmarks. It was late; he could tell because the sun was setting. From that he got a general bearing since he figured the planet was like Earth with the sun setting in the west. He marked that on the map and then sketched a compass. Then he took out his cell phone and tested it. The thing worked, but of course complained there was no signal. Instead he flipped the camera on and took pictures, turning to get a pantographic view.

“What are you doing?” a guy asked. “You think you're a tourist or something?”

“I'm getting a lay of the land. And the pictures of landmarks will come in handy,” John replied simply.

“Oh.”

“I can reverse the image if necessary to figure it out,” John continued, still taking pictures. He frowned, patiently waiting for a couple to get out of his view before he continued.