These are the Signs that great destruction is here: The world shall rock to and fro. The white man will battle people in other lands - those who possessed the first light of wisdom. There will be many columns of smoke and fire such as the white man has made in the deserts not far from here. Hopi prophecy for the beginning of the Fifth World—December, 2012
Cyprus Hills, Saskatchewan
December 22nd
Friday
The dawn was mysteriously warm, just as the long night had been. Well, it should have been past dawn, but the light of morning was yet to come. A stagnant, foreboding heat seemed to hang in the air along with an oppressive stillness. No sounds of animals or cars on the road below permeated the silence; it felt as though a presence was watching, waiting. The family huddled together in a rocky crevice on a small cliff. Remnants of a tiny fire from the night had disintegrated into a thin pile of smoldering ash. None of them had slept that night.
Dana ran her fingers through Abby's hair, as if the simple gesture could provide her daughter with a comfort words could not. The little girl stared into the darkness with wide eyes and clutched her stuffed cat to her chest, unsure of what exactly was lurking out there. Mulder sat ready on Abby's other side, poised to defend his family against an invisible attacker. His expression was frozen in a completely blank gaze, and Dana knew that this was his way of conveying utter terror. She reached behind her and patted the bulge of the 9mm tucked in the back of her jeans, so that she might feel a little less helpless.
I fucking hate this! Lying in this hospital bed waiting for my body to give in…God, I can't stand feeling helpless. I can't…I can't do this. I don't want to die here. I just want my dignity. I could end it. I could end it today. No…I can't…I'm weak...I can't. I'm scared, I'm scared. I don't want to fall asleep, because what if I don't wake up? I want to know when it's happening. Will I know? Or will it be like sleeping or maybe dreaming—vague awareness but not quite reality? Why not a bullet or a car accident, something quick, but cancer—I never thought it would be cancer. Life slowly sucking away…Where are you, God? Are you there? Please help me. I don't want to be alone.
"Scully, are you awake?"
"Yes."
"I'm sorry it's so late I just…I wanted to see you, and—"
"Mulder, I'm not ready. I'm not finished here. I don't want to die."
"Don't say that! You can't know…you can't give up hope. You're stronger than that."
"I want…I just want…"
"What do you want?"
"I want you to hold me. Really hold me. Next to me."
"I love you, Scully."
"I hate the quiet. Tell me a story," Abby said in a quavering, little voice.
"What kind of story would you like to hear?" Mulder murmured gently.
"Tell me about when we first met."
"You could tell that story by now."
"But I want to hear it again."
Mulder glanced over at Dana, and she attempted a half smile.
"Okay, baby blue," he said as Abby scooted over to sit on his lap. "You surprised Mommy and me because you were ready to be born two months early."
"Because I was bored and I wanted to come out and see everybody."
"That's right. Mommy and I were out to eat at a Japanese restaurant—"
"It was Thai, Daddy."
"You're right—it was Thai. So, we were waiting for our food, and we were talking about what to name you—"
"Kevin Walter if I was a boy—"
"Yep, and we knew that if you were a girl your middle name would be Margaret after Grandma, but we hadn't decided on a first name. We were talking about it, and then suddenly Mommy said we had to go to the hospital."
"And you did the panic face."
"Yes, I did. We were both very scared. When we got to the hospital, we had to wait around for a long time to see if you were really coming or if you were just tricking us."
"Then my heart started beating slower."
"And the doctor said Mommy had to have surgery to take you out. I sat beside her in the operating room—"
"And you wiped her eyes for her, because she was crying."
"Yes. And then something went wrong—"
"Mommy fell asleep, because she was bleeding."
"And the doctors and nurses made me go outside—"
"And you cried."
"I cried very hard, because I was so worried about my precious girls. And then a nurse came out and told me Mommy was okay, but they were worried about you, because you were so tiny."
"Then you came to the special nursery to meet me, and I was in an incubator with lots of tubes."
"Yes, and I reached inside to touch you. I stroked your hair and held your hand and told you how much I loved you."
"And you thought I was beautiful."
"Yes I did. Then a little later when Mommy was better we sat in that room with you, and we prayed that you would be okay."
"And then a few days later I was better and you and Mommy held me."
"We took turns holding you for hours. And we named you Abigail, because we thought the name was beautiful, just like you."
"The end."
"Nope, that was the beginning."
We almost had hope then. Hope that it wouldn't happen. Hope that it wouldn't end like this, Dana thought.
"Are the people from outer space going to hurt us?" Abby asked.
Dana remained silent, having no idea how to give an answer that we be both truthful and allow room for hope. Mulder and Dana had given Abigail censored snippets of the truth throughout her young life; she knew about the existence of aliens, but her parents had spared her from the more gruesome details.
"We won't let anyone hurt you. I promise." Mulder said softly.
"And we're going to stay together," Dana added. She thought of saying "and everything will be all right," but decided against it.
"I'm scared. Mommy, will you sing?" Abby whispered.
"Okay, I'll sing."
"Why don't you sing something?"
"No, Mulder."
"Well, if you sing something, I'll know you're awake."
"Mulder, you don't want me to sing. I can't carry a tune."
"It doesn't matter. Just sing anything."
Dana thought for a moment, and remembered her mother's soothing voice on stormy nights. She began to sing softly,
" …My life goes on
in endless song
Above earth's lamentations,
I hear the real,
though far-off hymn
That hails a new creation."
"No storm can shake
my inmost calm,
While to that rock I'm clinging.
Since love
is lord of heaven and earth
How can I keep from singing?"
A blinding flash streaked through the heavens, bathing the mountainside in white-orange light. The family shielded their eyes from the brightness, but not before Dana saw the ships. Hundreds of them were merely black dots against the searing radiance. Abigail covered her face with her hands and wept, trembling between her parents. Mulder covered the little girl's body with his own and wrapped his arms around his wife. And Dana sang. She continued in a thin, shaky voice,
"While though the
tempest loudly roars,
I hear the truth, it liveth.
And though
the darkness 'round me close,
Songs in the night it giveth..."
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she sang. And so it begins.
--
Casa Grande, Arizona
The two friends huddled in the darkness of the crude, underground shelter. They leaned their backs against the shelving units that lined the dirt walls.
"No fucking way! Aliens? Gibson, you've lost it."
"Olli, Shhhh! We don't want anyone to hear us down here."
"So honestly, you can read minds and shit?"
"I've already explained it to you. Yes."
"Read this thought."
"You're hungry, you want a bowl of chili, the smell of this place reminds you of when you used to hide under your porch as a kid, you believe me, but you're afraid to admit it to yourself."
"Damn it. You've always been able to do this?"
"For as long as I can remember."
"And this alien invasion thing…you've always known it would happen?"
"Not always, but I found out about it a long time ago. When I was a kid. They wanted me then because of what I can do. My abilities make me…something more than human."
"This is a hell of a lot to take in, Gibson."
"I know. It's my life story in less than an hour."
"You really think the aliens are coming today?"
"Yes. They're here. The light earlier—that was them."
"The earthquake, the heat…"
"It was all them—preparing to arrive. They're manipulating the planet's atmosphere to better suit their bodies."
"How long do we stay in here?"
"I don't know. Until the food and water are gone, I guess. Then I suppose we take as many weapons as we can carry and head out."
"How long have you been preparing this place? For this day?"
"Eleven years."
"Why did you bring me? It would have been easier to slip away on your own."
"Because you're my only friend, Olli."
The men sat in a silence so depthless that their own breathing seemed painfully loud. The town was close by; there should have been sounds of civilization, but there was nothing. For hours, there had been nothing.
"You shouldn't have come. You'll lead them to me."
"I'm here to protect you, Gibson. I know you know that's the truth."
She's thinking about him, just like he's thinking about her. Always about her. He talks to her. Pretends she's there. It makes it easier. Why can I still hear it? And the baby—should I tell her I know?
"If they find me, they'll take me. I know it. I've always known it."
"They want to take you because of what you are—you're a special boy. I'm going to come back for you. I promise. I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you."
But no one can help me. It's me and them. Just me and them. Forever.
Muffled voices and footsteps echoed above, and Gibson and Olli forgot to breathe as they overheard threads of a conversation.
"It's a door, I think! In the dirt—" a woman's voice called
"HELLO? Is there anyone alive down there? I can't open it—Can anyone hear me?" a man's voice shouted.
"If anyone's there—please, we need help! Please!"
Olli squinted at the trap door above, and slowly rose to his feet.
"Olli, get down!" Gibson hissed, "We can't trust them!"
"But, if they need help—"
"NO!"
"Look, we've got a pile of weapons down here, right? If they're baddies, we got the upper hand, anyway."
Olli continued moving towards the folding ladder, pulled it down, climbed up a few rungs, and opened the outer door before Gibson could stop him. The outside world was engulfed in pitch darkness, despite the fact that it was just after three in the afternoon. A putrid odor sunk into the stale air of the shelter, and Gibson and Olli immediately began to choke on the foulness. Gibson grabbed a flashlight from the corner of the cramped space and shined it up into the frightened faces of a young man and woman, probably both of college age.
"Do you have any medical supplies?" the man asked, "Please, when the light came we crashed into a telephone pole, and our friend is badly injured."
Gibson sighed, knowing that they couldn't help everyone that would come along, and yet he was unable to refuse.
"We don't have much…a basic first aid kit is all. Where is your friend?" Gibson asked hesitantly.
"He was thrown from the car. We didn't want to move him," the woman said shakily, tears in her voice.
"Your car is nearby?" Gibson asked.
"Just down the road. Not far," the man replied.
"All right….We'll go with you. Olli, the first aid kit is on the top shelf in front of you."
Gibson shined the light on the shelf so Olli could grab the small white box before stepping onto the ground outside the door. Gibson followed, reluctantly. After they departed from the underground, the stench soon became unbearable.
"What the hell is that?" Olli cried, cupping a hand over his mouth and nose, grimacing.
Before anyone could think of an answer, Gibson tripped over a soft mass that was sprawled on the desert floor, and he tumbled to his knees, the rocks snagging holes in his jeans. He scrambled to a crouch position and pointed the light at the object, and no further questioning was needed. The body was hideously deformed as if the face had been completely smashed inside the skull. Clothing and body type revealed masculinity, but no other defining features could be discerned. The skin was bloated from intense heat; and ugly red marks streaked the flesh, evidently severe burns. Everyone in the small group gasped collectively in horror and disgust. Gibson was the first to recover enough to speak, and he was surprised at the calmness and steadiness of his own voice.
"We were underground when this happened. Did either of you see anything?"
"No. We just, we crashed, and then Mike went through the windshield. Me and Katie were unconscious for awhile…I don't know how long. We woke up and it was dark, and we ran for help. We didn't see…" the man stuttered.
The woman, Katie, clung to the man's arm, her eyes wide in shock and fear.
"Okay. Let's just keep walking, and…and see if we can help your friend—Mike." Gibson said as he pushed a frozen Olli forward past the corpse.
The group followed tentatively behind Gibson, who kept the light steady on the ground before them to avoid any more surprises. In the short walk to the two-lane highway, they came across more bodies in the same condition as the first, scattered randomly across the land. On the highway, blood splattered the pavement beneath their feet, warm and slick and fresh. After less than a mile, they came to remnants of a jeep wrangler wrapped around a telephone pole, and a body lay facedown in the middle of the road at a 100-foot distance. Gibson grabbed the white box from Olli, as if a household first aid kit can possibly help, and knelt beside the body. He grasped the hip and shoulder and pulled it onto its back to reveal a faceless, bloody mass at the front of its skull. The burn marks were identical to the other victims.
"I'm sorry," Gibson called behind him, "This man is dead." Why him and not us? How could the other two have survived…and for what purpose? Who…what… are they? They can't be…I would know if they were… He glanced back at his two newest companions and reached down to his boot where he had concealed the switchblade.