The sun sparkled down on Maple Street on this particular day in the summer
of 1959. The great oak trees bordering the street cast dark pools of shade
onto the pavement. It was very hot. Considering it was not yet nine
o'clock. Major Edwards owned a small, well-kept house at the corner. He was
pulling out of his driveway for his drive to work.
Edward's drive to work was hot and dry. He soon left I-85, turning west onto a dusty road. The only scenery was the sagebrush bordering the road and the dust that bellowed up behind him as the road stretched on in front until it met the sky, over the horizon.
For an hour or two he had been watching a bulge in the distance steadily growing closer. Area 51 had no name, being marked by only it's sector number. Finally, he could make out the chain link fence, surrounding the base and it's twin guard towers.
Edward's saw the sunlight reflect off the muzzles of M-16's, hidden in the shadows of the towers' eves. Two men armed with automatics stepped up onto the road. The men wore desert camouflage and full combat gear. "Stop the car!" ordered the first one. Edwards slowed the car to a stop and opened his wallet to present his ID card. Stepping around to the side, the first guard waved him through, under the menacing glare of the M-16's.
After parking, Edwards entered a long, low building near the hangars. The corridors inside were white, white tile and white walls with no windows. Carrying his brown briefcase, Edwards sat down at a large metal desk and slapped his briefcase down on top. His office was bright, though barren except for his desk and his secretary's desk. The P.A system in his office suddenly blared to life. "Major Edwards, report to control center." Edwards immediately ran down the hall, ducking into a small room. The room was filled with monitors and computers stations with a large map tacked up on the back wall. The main light source came from the monitors and small lamps positioned next to the workstations. The rest of the walls were painted a dark green and some exposed wiring poking out along the walls. Dozen or so technicians were hunched over the main console, and none of them noticed Edwards when he walked in.
The supervising officer on duty strode to Edwards returning his salute. "Edwards, we've received a message from Area 21. We're being invaded. It might be a first strike from a Russian carrier group, we don't know. Area 21 is our southernmost base and has six sorties up to try and stop 'em." "Sir," said a technician, hurrying over to the officers. "We have Area 21's six sorties on radar now sir." All attention turned to the main screen where six blips could be seen. Then suddenly all six of them disappeared. "What the heck happened?" asked the officer. "They've been downed sir," answered a technician. "But what... how?" asked the officer. "Sir, look!" said another technician. On the screen there was nothing and then there was three blips, circling over the spot of the downed fighters. Then the blips on the radar disappeared again, until they reappeared several hundred miles closer, a minute later. "They're heading straight for us," gasped the officer. "What contact do we have with Area 21?" "All radio communication has been cut off," answered the technician. "Those things are faster then any fighter we have, sir. We have about five minutes before they're here."
"Oh, sir," said another technician. "The President has ordered the fifth fleet carrier group into the Gulf. They'll be within range to launch in an hour sir. Also a marine column is en route from Camp Pendleton." The officer turned to Edwards. "Edwards, get your flight squad up there right now, sound the red alert!" he said to a staff sergeant. Edwards ran to the locker room. Quickly he pulled on his flight suit, and then walked onto the runway where six gleaming, sleek, and silver fighter planes stood ready for take off. With the help of a ladder he climbed into the cockpit and went through a quick diagnostics check. His copilot and friend, Jerry, was behind him and he greeted Edwards with a grin. "Well, major, looks like we get to shoot some bogeys today." The main building and hangars surrounded the runway on one side, in front of which was a row of anti-aircraft guns, and a chain link fence that surrounded the base. Suddenly there was a huge explosion and three huge ships flew over firing projectiles from their wings. The runway became a living hell, the hangars were engulfed in flame and a truck carrying aviation fuel next to the runway exploded, sending forth a huge heat wave, which peeled off the paint on the plane and shattered the glass cockpit. Burning debris were scattered over the runway.
The fighter's landing gear snapped off the plane, which suddenly fell forward, driving the nose of the plane into the concrete. Edwards turned and looked behind his cockpit to check on Jerry. Edwards lurched, bent over, and vomited at his feet at the sight. Jerry's bottom jaw hung down, attached by only a thin strand of flesh and tissue. His nose and teeth were bashed. A horrific seven-inch inceration and a torrent of blood were flowing out, caking his face in blood. Slivers of glass had lacerated his face with angry red welts after he was thrown against the cockpit.
Edwards fumbled for his pistol from his survival kit and opened the cockpit. A thin line of marines and military police stood firing their weapons at the two strange ships that had landed in the grassy field beyond the runway. The third craft was flying away, smoke billowing from its hull. The crafts were as large as a Hercules military transport vehicle. Their sleek hulls and tails were those of a traditional plane, but the wings curved forward, ending in deadly points. Apparently they some type of armor because most of the bullets just ricocheted off. Suddenly the ship's tail opened up like the mouth of some horrible monster before it devours the town. A ramp slid out and three columns of infantry marched forth. Edwards's first thought was, "Oh my God!" The alien infantry were heavily armed and stood seven feet tall, with greenish skin poking through their brown combat dress. The defenders stopped firing for a moment. Just a moment. The attackers marched ahead, and opened up with some type of automatic weapon, sending explosive darts into the ranks of the marines. Survival instinct and training kicked in. Edwards grabbed a dead marine's M16 and began his retreat. He fired short, controlled, bursts into the advancing aliens.
Beside Edwards, a marine armed with an automatic rifle suddenly jerked back, a slug in his arm; the slug exploded leaving a charred stump. The next round blew his head off. Edwards thought grimly, "We've got to get out of here, or we're all dead. And out of here quick." A radioman nearby screamed into a phone, "We've only got a little ammo left, we need reinforcements. We're under attack by aliens!" Twelve or so aliens charged out from behind the hulk of a smoking fighter. Four marines leaped up to throw their hand grenades. Just as quickly all four were thrown back, limbs, heads and other assorted body parts landed fifteen feet away. The sound of several motors in the distance announced the arrival of a truck convoy coming down the highway. Immediately enemy fire began to concentrate on the trucks. One of them swerved and then rolled over, rolling into a ditch next to the highway. Four light tanks peeled away from the column and in a line abreast to each other they quickly covered the remaining distance. The enemy fire could not check their speed and a blood bath began. Tank shells whizzed by, electric pulsating blue balls flying across the airfield at seemingly impossible speeds. The super heated chunks of metal tore into the alien ships. Alien infantry fell screaming, withering, trampled by the tons of metal. The roar of the guns and exploding ships, and the piecing cry of the wounded accumulated until Edwards thought his head would explode. Flying unnoticed above the battle was the third alien craft that had earlier departed, reappeared. Smoke poured from its side. It flew above the charred battle scene of twisted guns and mangled bodies. It unleashed a bomb. The bomb exploded sending forth a huge electrical shock wave that left a thin residue in the air. The shock was powerful enough to knock out all electricity in the brain of a living organism within a three-mile radius. The aliens had lost but they would not allow for their soldiers to be captured. The alien attackers stared solemnly up at the craft then fell to the ground, quivering. The tank crews were fried to death inside their metal coffins. Soldiers moments ago locked in combat suddenly fell to the ground as if they were suddenly very tired. Edwards felt himself freeze up, time no longer mattered, and milliseconds seemed like eons. Finally the residue fell to the ground and Edwards felt as if he had suddenly woken up from a long sleep. He slowly staggered to his feet and looked around. He thought the guy next to him was alive before he realized it was the wind rustling his shirt. An army of the dead surrounded him. The fact didn't register with his brain. Yes, there was one man still alive, Jake, a fellow officer. He saw him sit up next to him. Part of a radar station had fallen over them, and already a stench had crept over the killing field. Another truck convoy arrived and the paramedics dug them out from the rubble and put them in the hospital.
They gave him some minor surgery, and told him he'd be okay. Then the dreams started. Edwards found himself wandering through space. The stars seemed so close he could reach out and hold these glowing spheres in his hand. Then one night he saw the earth. He beheld the earth in all its beauty, except this was a different earth. Edwards stood and let the waters of the Mediterranean lap at his feet, while a herd of dinosaurs roam across Eurasia, and then one night he saw a figure who looked humanoid. Then when he looked closer, he realized with a shock that it was one of the aliens. There was a tribe of them, and slowly they began to build. They drove solar powered cars, co-existing with the dinosaurs. They ate fruit and built vast empires in the trees, and then one night a bright glow appeared in the sky, each night it grew closer and closer until it filled the Western sky. It tore into the earth; the impact formed a huge crater.
Edward's drive to work was hot and dry. He soon left I-85, turning west onto a dusty road. The only scenery was the sagebrush bordering the road and the dust that bellowed up behind him as the road stretched on in front until it met the sky, over the horizon.
For an hour or two he had been watching a bulge in the distance steadily growing closer. Area 51 had no name, being marked by only it's sector number. Finally, he could make out the chain link fence, surrounding the base and it's twin guard towers.
Edward's saw the sunlight reflect off the muzzles of M-16's, hidden in the shadows of the towers' eves. Two men armed with automatics stepped up onto the road. The men wore desert camouflage and full combat gear. "Stop the car!" ordered the first one. Edwards slowed the car to a stop and opened his wallet to present his ID card. Stepping around to the side, the first guard waved him through, under the menacing glare of the M-16's.
After parking, Edwards entered a long, low building near the hangars. The corridors inside were white, white tile and white walls with no windows. Carrying his brown briefcase, Edwards sat down at a large metal desk and slapped his briefcase down on top. His office was bright, though barren except for his desk and his secretary's desk. The P.A system in his office suddenly blared to life. "Major Edwards, report to control center." Edwards immediately ran down the hall, ducking into a small room. The room was filled with monitors and computers stations with a large map tacked up on the back wall. The main light source came from the monitors and small lamps positioned next to the workstations. The rest of the walls were painted a dark green and some exposed wiring poking out along the walls. Dozen or so technicians were hunched over the main console, and none of them noticed Edwards when he walked in.
The supervising officer on duty strode to Edwards returning his salute. "Edwards, we've received a message from Area 21. We're being invaded. It might be a first strike from a Russian carrier group, we don't know. Area 21 is our southernmost base and has six sorties up to try and stop 'em." "Sir," said a technician, hurrying over to the officers. "We have Area 21's six sorties on radar now sir." All attention turned to the main screen where six blips could be seen. Then suddenly all six of them disappeared. "What the heck happened?" asked the officer. "They've been downed sir," answered a technician. "But what... how?" asked the officer. "Sir, look!" said another technician. On the screen there was nothing and then there was three blips, circling over the spot of the downed fighters. Then the blips on the radar disappeared again, until they reappeared several hundred miles closer, a minute later. "They're heading straight for us," gasped the officer. "What contact do we have with Area 21?" "All radio communication has been cut off," answered the technician. "Those things are faster then any fighter we have, sir. We have about five minutes before they're here."
"Oh, sir," said another technician. "The President has ordered the fifth fleet carrier group into the Gulf. They'll be within range to launch in an hour sir. Also a marine column is en route from Camp Pendleton." The officer turned to Edwards. "Edwards, get your flight squad up there right now, sound the red alert!" he said to a staff sergeant. Edwards ran to the locker room. Quickly he pulled on his flight suit, and then walked onto the runway where six gleaming, sleek, and silver fighter planes stood ready for take off. With the help of a ladder he climbed into the cockpit and went through a quick diagnostics check. His copilot and friend, Jerry, was behind him and he greeted Edwards with a grin. "Well, major, looks like we get to shoot some bogeys today." The main building and hangars surrounded the runway on one side, in front of which was a row of anti-aircraft guns, and a chain link fence that surrounded the base. Suddenly there was a huge explosion and three huge ships flew over firing projectiles from their wings. The runway became a living hell, the hangars were engulfed in flame and a truck carrying aviation fuel next to the runway exploded, sending forth a huge heat wave, which peeled off the paint on the plane and shattered the glass cockpit. Burning debris were scattered over the runway.
The fighter's landing gear snapped off the plane, which suddenly fell forward, driving the nose of the plane into the concrete. Edwards turned and looked behind his cockpit to check on Jerry. Edwards lurched, bent over, and vomited at his feet at the sight. Jerry's bottom jaw hung down, attached by only a thin strand of flesh and tissue. His nose and teeth were bashed. A horrific seven-inch inceration and a torrent of blood were flowing out, caking his face in blood. Slivers of glass had lacerated his face with angry red welts after he was thrown against the cockpit.
Edwards fumbled for his pistol from his survival kit and opened the cockpit. A thin line of marines and military police stood firing their weapons at the two strange ships that had landed in the grassy field beyond the runway. The third craft was flying away, smoke billowing from its hull. The crafts were as large as a Hercules military transport vehicle. Their sleek hulls and tails were those of a traditional plane, but the wings curved forward, ending in deadly points. Apparently they some type of armor because most of the bullets just ricocheted off. Suddenly the ship's tail opened up like the mouth of some horrible monster before it devours the town. A ramp slid out and three columns of infantry marched forth. Edwards's first thought was, "Oh my God!" The alien infantry were heavily armed and stood seven feet tall, with greenish skin poking through their brown combat dress. The defenders stopped firing for a moment. Just a moment. The attackers marched ahead, and opened up with some type of automatic weapon, sending explosive darts into the ranks of the marines. Survival instinct and training kicked in. Edwards grabbed a dead marine's M16 and began his retreat. He fired short, controlled, bursts into the advancing aliens.
Beside Edwards, a marine armed with an automatic rifle suddenly jerked back, a slug in his arm; the slug exploded leaving a charred stump. The next round blew his head off. Edwards thought grimly, "We've got to get out of here, or we're all dead. And out of here quick." A radioman nearby screamed into a phone, "We've only got a little ammo left, we need reinforcements. We're under attack by aliens!" Twelve or so aliens charged out from behind the hulk of a smoking fighter. Four marines leaped up to throw their hand grenades. Just as quickly all four were thrown back, limbs, heads and other assorted body parts landed fifteen feet away. The sound of several motors in the distance announced the arrival of a truck convoy coming down the highway. Immediately enemy fire began to concentrate on the trucks. One of them swerved and then rolled over, rolling into a ditch next to the highway. Four light tanks peeled away from the column and in a line abreast to each other they quickly covered the remaining distance. The enemy fire could not check their speed and a blood bath began. Tank shells whizzed by, electric pulsating blue balls flying across the airfield at seemingly impossible speeds. The super heated chunks of metal tore into the alien ships. Alien infantry fell screaming, withering, trampled by the tons of metal. The roar of the guns and exploding ships, and the piecing cry of the wounded accumulated until Edwards thought his head would explode. Flying unnoticed above the battle was the third alien craft that had earlier departed, reappeared. Smoke poured from its side. It flew above the charred battle scene of twisted guns and mangled bodies. It unleashed a bomb. The bomb exploded sending forth a huge electrical shock wave that left a thin residue in the air. The shock was powerful enough to knock out all electricity in the brain of a living organism within a three-mile radius. The aliens had lost but they would not allow for their soldiers to be captured. The alien attackers stared solemnly up at the craft then fell to the ground, quivering. The tank crews were fried to death inside their metal coffins. Soldiers moments ago locked in combat suddenly fell to the ground as if they were suddenly very tired. Edwards felt himself freeze up, time no longer mattered, and milliseconds seemed like eons. Finally the residue fell to the ground and Edwards felt as if he had suddenly woken up from a long sleep. He slowly staggered to his feet and looked around. He thought the guy next to him was alive before he realized it was the wind rustling his shirt. An army of the dead surrounded him. The fact didn't register with his brain. Yes, there was one man still alive, Jake, a fellow officer. He saw him sit up next to him. Part of a radar station had fallen over them, and already a stench had crept over the killing field. Another truck convoy arrived and the paramedics dug them out from the rubble and put them in the hospital.
They gave him some minor surgery, and told him he'd be okay. Then the dreams started. Edwards found himself wandering through space. The stars seemed so close he could reach out and hold these glowing spheres in his hand. Then one night he saw the earth. He beheld the earth in all its beauty, except this was a different earth. Edwards stood and let the waters of the Mediterranean lap at his feet, while a herd of dinosaurs roam across Eurasia, and then one night he saw a figure who looked humanoid. Then when he looked closer, he realized with a shock that it was one of the aliens. There was a tribe of them, and slowly they began to build. They drove solar powered cars, co-existing with the dinosaurs. They ate fruit and built vast empires in the trees, and then one night a bright glow appeared in the sky, each night it grew closer and closer until it filled the Western sky. It tore into the earth; the impact formed a huge crater.