4

Saturday, 8:17 AM Dib

Zim was on the loose. It was going to happen eventually, I knew. But I never would have imagined that he would attack a human. Especially not a human GIRL. And especially not so far out of the city. It was taking me FOREVER to find this place. Even with my personal GPS attached to the windshield, my car and I seemed to be trapped in a maze of crop fields and cow pastures. So many cow pastures.

This was a big breakthrough.

The alien's activity had been… less than normal, lately. It was just the normal, glare here, insult there. A circle of antagonism.

It had been five years since the Irken had first landed here on earth. I was only a twelve year-old kid at the time. Ever since then, he had a PURPOSE. A reason for being the paranormal investigator he always dreamed to be. And now, he had finally attacked. The girl, Charlie, didn't she say, had mentioned that he was laying on her couch. Sleeping? More likely, plotting his evil plan, whatever it was this time. That was all the details she gave me.

But it was more than enough. Just the mere mention of Zim was enough to trigger my investigating skills.

And finally, someone seemed to recognize him for what he really was. Not a human. Not even from this planet. No, he was from another place. A purple-laden place called "Irk".

I've never been there, but with all the information I received from Zim's computer, I don't need to. It was industrialized, as far as I could tell. Somewhat barren. Probably only a beautiful place to call home in an Irken's jelly eyes. But one day, I would find a way to get there. I would invade his planet like he invaded mine, and I would take back everything that he had taken from us. The alien known as Zim would regret the day he had ever been assigned to Planet Earth.

But that day hadn't come yet. Hadn't come for a long time. Every day, it was the same. I would investigate, find out what Zim's next plan was, and foil it. I don't know why he even tried anymore.

Persistent little worm-tongued piece of—

I slammed on the breaks. Oh, here we were. House number 4902. It was a farmhouse, large and white. Picture an old plantation house, remodeled with less-majestic stone pillars, and wooden walls. Like, log cabin plantation house. It was big.

Turning down the gravel driveway, I kept a jittery foot on the gas, trying not to accelerate too quickly. Wouldn't want the inhabitants to think I was a nutcase, like everybody else…

Pull up to the garage door, step out. The house seemed even bigger up close. What kind of people were these? Probably… rich dentists. Yeah, definitely. I walked to the front door, a large, wood and glass arrangement, designed to impress the enterer. Which it did, in this case. Why had a GIRL called me, in this kind of a house? Why not her rich father or mother? Oh well, I would just have to knock and find out. So I did, tapping my knuckles against the door, and then stepping back to wait expectantly.