CHAPTER 1: UNWELCOME VISITORS

North American Aerospace Defense Command, Colorado Springs. U.S.A. October 11 th , 2004.

General Stevens rushed into the control room. The place was bathed in the dim orange lights, alarm blared and personnel exchanged preoccupied looks.

-"What's the situation?" Stevens asked a man on the radar console, who was sweating profusely.

-"A boogey, Sir!" He responded, "It entered our space minutes ago."

-"Boogey?" Stevens was the type of person who disliked slang. "Clarify!"

-"A-a… an unidentified object crossed our atmosphere, Sir!" the operator excused himself. "We are still figuring out if we're under attack."

Stevens grunted. If they were under attack, then they would be dead before they can positively identify if it was an ICBM or just a piece of space junk. He saw the screen where the object's trajectory was depicted by a yellow line over a satellite image of the United States. A red dot blinked on the predicted point of impact: Somewhere in the Colorado mountains, not far from them.

Cheyenne Mountain was the main installation for the North American Aerospace Defense Command, a hard valuable asset which turned them into a most likely target for an ICBM attack.

-"SATCOM indicates there have been no launches!" Another technician informed him, "Russian and Chinese silos are inactive."

There could be another explanations. "What's the size and predicted impact force?" Stevens asked. If there was an asteroid, it could still cause major destruction. They have no way to evacuate all the population in the minutes they had before impact. Still, he had to know.

-"Boogey is… metallic," the technician hesitated, "and… it's hollow, it's breaking apart!"

Stevens hummed. Metallic and hollowed, that means it was fabricated and not a natural object. It was also too big for a downed satellite or an Intercontinental ballistic missile. The only thing up there that big was the space station. The implications only mean one thing.

-"Sir?" the Technician asked. "Two minutes before impact, mountains west of Crested Butte."

Stevens rubbed his clean shaven chin "Get the National Guard ready." Was his only order before retreating back to his office. Once there, he took the telephone and dialed a number he hadn't used in five years.

-"Agent Garber?" He asked once the call was online. "We have visitors."

- o –

Grand Mesa National Forest. Gunnison County, Colorado. October 11 th , 2004.

The forest had turned suddenly silent, the chirping of the cycads, the insects buzzing, all it was suddenly gone. The deer drinking on the clear steam raised its head and wriggled its ears. It smelled the air, sensing something. Bud "Buddy" Benson put a hand on the rifle's muzzle. "Easy," he whispered, "I took my time, took a deep breath and held it steady."

He and his son Sam had gone out into the woods in the mountains that morning in Buddy's Cherokee SUV. Buddy had promised that he would teach Sam how to track and hunt small prey, but they ran into a deer on the stream. Sam wanted to take the shot but a game that size required an expert hunter. Sam had to reluctantly wait his turn, hearing his father carefully and learning all the tricks.

-"When you're ready," Bud continued, "squeeze the trigger." He put a finger on the weapon's trigger but just as he was about to shoot. A thundering noise resonated above the mountain. The deer fled, jumping through the bushes.

-"Damn!" Buddy cursed, He immediately regretted doing so when he remembered Darcy's words of not using harsh language in the kid's presence. "Oh, sorry, don't tell your mom…"

-"Dad?" The kid wasn't hearing him, instead he was looking up. "What is that?"

A fireball was crossing the morning orange sky… directly towards them. Buddy widened his eyes, restraining himself from further cursing. The bolt passed over the treetops, and Bud had a glimpse of a metal hull, engulfed in flames. He saw the object bounce on the rocks before crashing against the mountain, not far from their position. The shockwave sent them tumbling on the spongy floor. "Sam. Are you ok?" He asked, grabbing his son and lifting him from the ground.

The boy gave him thumbs up, coughing. "Wow!" He exclaimed, "Was that a meteor?!" Buddy shook his head.

-"I think it was a plane," he said, and then looked through the trees at the site of the crash. It could be dangerous to take his son there, but they were the nearest help any survivor could have. And was equally dangerous sending the kid back to the SUV on foot. "Sam, try to call the Sheriff," he offered him his phone. "Then call mom, tell her we're on our way to help."

Sam took the phone and dialed 9-1-1. The machine answered with the usual "No service."

-"No signal, Dad." He said, returning the device. Bud grunted, putting the phone back into his jacket's pocket.

-"Then let's go." He signaled his kid before starting trekking to the crash site, followed by Sam.

After climbing the last hill, an hour later, Buddy was surprised by the devastation. Pieces of silvery metal were sparse all over a clearing, the treetops were burning, but luckily there had been plenty of rain and there was no risk of a forest fire. It was then when Buddy realized the object that had crashed on the mountain wasn't a plane. It was big, made of a silvery metal and was covered in strange markings. Three thrusters glow pale blue at its rear. A huge gash spilled coolant liquid and sparks where the hull had been obliterated.

-"Dad?" Sam wimped, "Let's go back home."

-"Just a second," he said. He wanted to take a look inside before getting back. He climbed down the hill towards the jagged opening.

-"Dad, C'mon!" Sam hurried up.

He looked back at the kid. He wanted to tell him it was ok, it will only take a minute and then they can go back directly to the sheriff's office, when a strange hissing noise drew his gaze back to the fissure. He peered through and, at the light of blue sparks he saw at least four glass containers that had broken. Inside them were leathery egg-shaped objects.

-"Oh right Sam," he called his son, "Let's get out of here. We gotta tell somebody." He started to climb back to the place his son stood.

A crunching sound of something crawling on dried leaves reached his ears. He turned back to the ship and scanned for movement. The sound started again, this time somewhere from his right. Buddy raised his rifle, ready to fire at whatever was on that vehicle. "Go, go, go!" he hurried him.

-"What was it?!" Sam asked when he started to run. He was scared now.

-"Dunno, just run." Buddy hurried him behind, stopping at regular intervals to turn back and check out they weren't being followed.

Something leaped from the bushes. Bud Benson had a glimpse of a spidery body with a long tail, jumping high in the air, heading for his face. He reacted fairly quickly, aiming the rifle and firing a single shot that impacted the creature at point blank range.

The insect-like creature exploded in a shower of green liquid. Some of it splashed Buddy's arm and instantly, his jacket's sleeve corroded. An acrid fume reached Bud's nostrils as the jacket dissolved and the corrosive liquid burned his arm.

"Dad!" Sam was horrified, his dad's arm fell off to the ground sizzling and melting. Bud's painful cries stopped when other of the creatures leaped on and wrapped itself around the man's face. The thing's long tail coiled around Buddy's neck.

Sam unsuccessfully tried to pull the thing off his dad's face, the creature was practically glued. He heard more noises coming and he grabbed his father's rifle. Bud had taught him the basics and the boy squeezed his hands around the weapon's muzzle and grip.

He remembered his father's words; Take your time, breathe. He calmed himself and breathed deep. He was ready. The noise of a broken twig reached his ears and he whirled around, swinging around the rifle. Instead of one of the crab-thingies from before, he was facing a giant, black monstrosity that emerged from the ferns. The monster opened its crab like jaws. Sam screamed as the beast grabbed him by the arms, making him drop the rifle and then pinning him to the forest's ground. The abomination growled, spurting glistening strands of shining drool over him. Sam was horrified and frozen, immobilized by the towering beast.

He screamed as one of the scorpion tailed things crawled out of the bushes towards his face. The monster roared in victory when the hugger wrapped around its victims head. Sam's body relaxed and he lost consciousness.

- o –

Crested Butte, Gunnison County, Colorado. October 11 th , 2004.

Sheriff Eddie Morales parked in front of the small bus stop in the resort town of Crested Butte. During the morning, not long after sunrise, a tremendous bang had resounded across the valley, shattering windows and setting off car alarms. Soon the phone in the small sheriff's office wouldn't stop ringing, so Eddie had been patrolling the streets. At about 8 in the morning, Morales looked at his watch and cursed, spoke to the central station on the radio and headed to the center of the city.

Morales got out of the unit and combed his curly hair with one hand. Right on time, he thought as the bus from Gunnison turned the corner.

The old unit of the Greyhound company parked next to the small office and the passengers began to descend. Deputy Sheriff Joe Wallace approached him from behind.

-"Sheriff," he called. Morales looked away from the passengers to listen to the officer. "The homeless are still camping in the collector tunnel under Houston Street."

In recent days, a group of bums and homeless people had taken up residence at one of Crested Butte's main water collectors. The aqueduct carried water from springs in the Grand Mesa National Forest to the city's water repository. Having mole people living in the drinking water source was a serious health problem, especially in a town that depended on the tourists that would arrive in the coming months.

-"Joe," Eddie said, "we've got bigger problems than a few homeless people." He pointed to the other end of the street, where Carrie Adams, Officer Ray's wife, was sweeping up the remains of shattered glass from the cafeteria.

-"But..." Joe replied.

-"But nothing," Morales cut him off, "I'm sure you can take care of that."

Joe reluctantly walked away. Morales shook his head and turned his attention back to the bus passengers. A man in his late twenties descended, carrying only a duffel bag, shielding himself from the sun with one hand.

Eddie walked up to him and greeted him with a wave of his hand. The man noticed the officer's presence and walked towards him.

-"I don't need a police escort, you know?"

-"I just want to give you a warm welcome, Dallas." Morales replied. "Can't a friend give you a ride home?"

-"Are we still friends?" Dallas asked.

"The badge," Eddie said, pointing to the piece of metal dangling from his chest, "doesn't change a thing. Get in the car."

Dallas walked around the squad car and climbed into the passenger seat. Eddie started the car and drove uptown in awkward silence.

"It's weird," Dallas broke the ice, "usually I was in the back." Morales let out a laugh. "And if I remember correctly, a couple of times you went with me."

-"Things change." Morales said.

can't a friend give you a ride home?"

-"Are we still friends?" Dallas asked.

"The badge," Eddie said, pointing to the piece of metal dangling from his chest, "doesn't change a thing. Get in the car."

Dallas walked around the squad car and climbed into the passenger seat. Eddie started the car and drove uptown in awkward silence.

"It's weird," Dallas broke the ice, "usually I was in the back." Morales let out a laugh. "And if I remember correctly, a couple of times you went with me."

-"Things change." Morales said. Dallas nodded.

-"And do you like being a policeman?" he asked.

"It's better than being a rascal," he said, "People look me in the eye, they respect me..." Dallas raised an eyebrow. "And you? What is it like to spend three years in a cell?"

Dallas ignored him, instead he pointed to the street. "What the hell happened here? I heard something before I boarded the bus in Gunnison."

-"Yes, the National Guard issued a statement," Morales explained, "a meteoroid or something like that, the shock wave broke some glass."

"That's not good," Dallas said.

-"Not at all, some businesses were damaged," continued the officer, "just before the high season." Dallas grimaced, then changed the subject.

-"Have you seen my brother?"

-"More times than I would like." Eddie said.