Chapter 4- No Trespassing
Weeks had passed since Cassandra had come across the alien in the woods. She had stayed away from the crash site afraid that she might come across it again. Curiosity, though, eventually got the better of her. She headed to her usual trail.
Her tires came to a screeching halt when yellow tape blocked her path.
"No trespassing." Read the sign. She peered into the woods; nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She glanced left, right and behind her. What would a quick check hurt?
Cassandra slipped past the tape leaving her bike behind. She jogged along the dirt path; the crash was pretty far in; it too her a few minutes to reach it.
The trees were still broken in a perfect path; anxiety and relief washed over, she at least knew she wasn't crazy. She glanced around once more before descending. This time she took her time to study the landscape. Each broken tree, each limb she climbed over; she took a mental note.
At the bottom, she viewed the trench. It had rained since that day, washing away and proof of her being there. This time she stepped off to the side to avoid any further incident.
The grass had been flattened where all the men had inspected the area. Cassandra wondered if they knew what caused the path as she walked by. Walking past the end where the robot had been, she found the patch of ripped up grass by the wood line. She remembered it falling to its knees before her; how it shook the Earth. All this time she thought maybe she had been crazy and that the whole thing had been a dream. All this though, it proved her theory entirely wrong. It was real, what she saw was real.
"Hello?" she called into the woods. Maybe it was still out there. "Hello!" Only the wind answered with the sound of ruffling leaves. She sighed; it was gone. She had run away from an alien; she was the first to see it and she ran away. She kicked the dirt; her head down in defeat.
"Well hello." Spoke a man before her. Cassandra jumped. How long had he been standing there?
"I assume you are aware that this is a restricted area?" He pushed the side of his black suit jacket back as he placed a hand on his hip.
"I-uhm.." She froze.
"Were you looking for someone? I only saw the one bike." He peered past her in curiosity.
"No, I just thought I saw something. Must have been the wind." She motioned around as a gust came through the open field.
"Hm." The man scratched the side of his head, ruffling his neatly slicked back hair. "So, what is a young girl like yourself doing here alone? You must have some reason for being here."
"Oh, you know" she laughed nervously "teenagers and no trespassing signs. It's just an invitation."
"Yes, it seems to be common in this area. We found some footprints in the dirt there before anyone even had a chance to investigate." He looked at her sternly. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you? Maybe some friends from school?"
"No sir, I don't have many friends and none of them ride."
"But you ride this trail, don't you?"
"Well yes, but-"
"Did you see anything the day of the crash, Cassandra?"
"How do you know my name?" she took a cautious step back.
"I have my ways, Miss Higgins. Now, do you have anything about what you saw that day to share with me? Anything, no matter how small the detail, will be helpful in our investigation."
"No," she swallowed "I-I don't. I didn't see anything; all I saw was what was on the news."
"I will have you know that keeping information from a federal officer is a punishable offense." He switched what feet held his weight, keeping his hand on his hip.
"I'm going now." She walked past the man in a hurry.
"Cassandra," he called after her "if you decide to do the right thing, do not hesitate to contact me." He held out a small business card. Cassandra side eyed him for a moment before snatching the card. They held eye contact, his hand still out. "I suggest you get going, you don't want to worry your poor mother again."
Cassandra's hands shook as she picked her bike from the ground; how did he know who she was? She eyed the card in her hand. "Sebastian Tate." She whispered to herself. The white sheet of cardstock only contained a name and a number. No identifying marks of what government facility or program he was apart of, no address, just a name and a private number.
She stuffed the card in her pocket and hurried home; she needed to find out who this man was and how he knew so much about her.