Charged - Book One (8 page)

“Do you think we’ll regret this?”

“It’s possible,” he said.

When the lid was shut all the way, it was completely
black. I could hear a series of locks closing at the top of the
tube we were in. Then it was silent and the ceiling and the floor
lit up with a cascading, soft, blue stream of light, which was just
enough for us to see.

“Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” I muttered, looking
at him.

“It’s almost what I imagined.”

I frowned at him a little and I started to wonder
what he had imagined. I was alarmed, but even more so when the tube
started to drop at an incredible speed. The force was so great that
we started to lift off of the floor slightly and we both grabbed
the steel bars on the side of the tube.

“How fast do you think we’re going?” I said, over the
humming noise.

“I don’t know, pretty fast!”

I had this overwhelming feeling that when this thing
stopped, it was going to open up into a room filled with very angry
military people. Then a fear swept across my mind that we would get
stuck in the tube. I didn’t see any seams or anything that looked
like a door that would suggest it opened at all. I wondered how
long it had been since the tube had been used. And as much as I
wanted to believe there would be a way back up, I didn’t know if
there would be. I wondered if Aaron had considered this
possibility.

After the second longest minute of my life, the
cylinder started to slow and came to a halt. Our feet lowered to
the ground and I held onto the rails to make sure I landed on my
good leg this time. The ceiling lights dimmed a little as we
listened to the door unlocking.

THERE WERE TWO DOORS, about thirty-six inches wide
that slid back making the cylinder turn into a half-circle. I had a
few ideas of what we were about to walk into, but I wasn’t
expecting this.

This was beautiful. This was Eden.

We stood in the cylinder just looking at an abundant
amount of plant life, trees and flowers. It was what Earth must
have looked like before we covered it in concrete and condos. We
took a few steps out into what looked like a garden and although
beautiful, it was obvious the trees weren’t really trees and the
flowers weren’t really flowers. The dim blue lights had deceived us
and my stomach soured.

Aaron picked up the bags and he stepped out further
into the dimly-lit garden. I hesitated; I stood there for a moment,
closed my eyes, opened them again, but nothing changed. After
another moment, I slowly limped out. It was possible that the tube
could send me straight back up and Aaron would be alone. When I was
completely out of the tube, the doors closed and I could hear it
ascending to the top of the canyon. And I couldn’t help but notice
that there wasn’t any place to plug the key in from this side.

We started moving forward on what looked like a
cobblestone path. With every step we took, the floor would radiate
under our feet. It lit up with the same blue light as in the
elevator. At first it was dim, then it grew brighter, then it would
die out after a second or two until the next step was taken. The
black stones didn’t feel like stones, more like a hard rubber.

I motioned for Aaron to be silent as I waited for
military people to make themselves known, for the bright overhead
lights to be turned on and for us to be put in cuffs, but this
didn’t happen. I heard no footsteps, no alarms, nothing. Even if
this was a military experiment, splicing plant life for weapons or
cures, something wasn’t right. Where were the scientists? Where was
the security? There were no pipes overhead, no ventilation ducts or
heating ducts. I pulled out my .357 Magnum and handed my pistol to
Aaron. “Safety’s off,” I said. He grabbed it and we continued.

Facing us to the left of the path was a flower the
size of my head, or what looked like a flower. It was slightly
transparent and opening and closing like it was breathing. To our
right was what I can best describe as glowing white vines that were
also moving a little more actively than what made me
comfortable.

“Do you hear that?” I whispered.

“I don’t hear anything.”

“That’s my point. No insects, no birds.”

Aaron pointed up and to my surprise; we were not in a
cave but a metal dome. The ceiling radiated the soft, blue light
like the black stones in the path.

Then the red dirt on my right side started to move.
No, it wasn’t the dirt moving; something was moving under it. My
curiosity was immediately replaced with panic and I pointed my
revolver at the moving dirt. Aaron quickly shook his head in a
no
gesture at me.

A yellow glowing bug with a red glowing head crawled
out of the dirt. It sent a shiver down my spine and I unconsciously
took a step back. I was almost positive that it stopped to look at
me for a moment as it tilted its head up. It was the size of my
shoe, with long spiny legs and a glowing gelatinous body that
bounced a little as it crossed my path. If it had inched toward me
at all, I would’ve shot it.

Aaron and I watched as it simply crossed our path
over the black stones and crawled back into the red dirt on the
other side. We said nothing. Though, I was positive that what was
going through my mind was not what was going through his. I was
thinking that the government was splicing more than plants. And
Aaron….he had a large smile spreading across his face.

As we continued into the dome, I noticed most of the
plants were several feet tall. There were some with flowers, some
without. Some of them looked like large cornstalks. Their stems
were glowing orange and faded to white at the tops of the plants.
There were red grapelike clusters on the tips of them running down
about three feet on the sides of each stalk. They looked like
fist-sized grapes.

Slowly, they leaned toward us, but there wasn’t a
breeze. It was unsettling even more than the bug because the stalks
were massive. Their stems were thicker than my thighs and some of
them reached twelve feet into the air. I started thinking about
what military scientists could do to plants. Just then, hundreds of
the stalks started bending farther and farther in synch, like they
were alive. I tightened my sweaty palm on the butt of my gun. If
these things started lashing at us, I was going to blow them to
pieces.

They bowed towards us and then pulled back. Then,
they started moving just a little quicker. After only a few more
steps they were bending over again and again, just barely touching
the ground, like they were dancing. One of them bent all the way
over, brushing against the side of my leg and then bounced back
bending in the opposite direction. If I could’ve jumped away from
it without unbearable pain, I would have. Their movements were like
a ballet as they swayed back and forth. It was alarming and
mesmerizing at the same time. The light they gave off seemed to
disperse into the air around them as they moved. More and more of
them started brushing against us as we moved deeper into the dome
and I was certain that, at any moment, the military were going to
show up really pissed off.

Then, the cornstalk plants started moving faster,
touching the tops of our heads, sliding across our faces. Now I was
kind of hoping someone would show up and arrest us. It was
startling, but they weren’t violent. I swatted at several that
touched my face and neck. It was like a cat purring against your
leg when you walked in the door — a very tall, annoying cat. After
a few more feet, we cleared the small section of plants and entered
a different section with much smaller plants.

As we moved further into the clearing, I saw the most
beautiful waterfall I’d ever seen in my life. It ran from the
bottom of the dome to the top, an easy thirty feet. It came from a
large pool in the floor that seemed to be lined in crystals and it
sounded like a waterfall in slow motion. From what I could tell,
there were two layers. There was a gold fluorescent waterfall
running slowly like lava from the floor to the ceiling. And my
basic understanding of physics said this shouldn’t be possible. On
top of that layer was an orange sparkling layer moving slightly
faster in the opposite direction. They were flowing against each
other, simultaneously moving in and out of a large crevice located
at the top of the dome.

Every drop that hit the glowing pond at the bottom
changed into a crystalline snowflake that floated out into the air
and dissipated as it touched the strange plants.

We kept moving, but Aaron slowed so I could keep up
with him, now that my limp was severe.

Everything was spectacular. One flower that we were
approaching caught my attention. It was about three feet tall and
had bright neon pink and white petals with a thick, black stem.
Every few seconds, a petal would fall to the red dirt, sprout tiny
white legs and then crawl back to the base of the plant. Then it
would dig itself into the ground where the flower was planted and
then a new petal would reappear.

“GENTLMEN, WELCOME TO STATION THIRTEEN,” a man said,
startling us as he walked slowly toward us from what appeared to be
the end of the brick-like path. Every step he took made the path
come to life with the dim blue light beneath his feet.

“We always design our gates to open directly into two
sections of gardens. We find it to be an appealing entrance,” he
said.

Aaron and I immediately noticed that all the plant
life became still, even the cornstalks in the previous dome.

The man’s deep voice echoed against the walls of the
large dome. But something was wrong with this dome and everything
in it. I knew it and felt it in my bones. The revolver was still
hanging in my hand on my right side.

As the man got closer, it was evident that he was not
a man at all. We stood there speechless and frozen.

I suddenly thought that this must be what Zero felt
like. My heart started pounding against my ribs as this thing was
got closer to us. The creature looked like a bad mutation of a
human on steroids. It stopped about ten feet in front of us and we
looked up at him. It was an easy nine feet tall, with no hair and
you could see right through its skin into all the veins and glowing
arteries — circular, moving arteries. Its enormous glowing eyes
looked like gold slits, running four inches diagonally. Its head
was misshapen and too large for its body. It had two legs and two
arms with hands that could’ve probably crushed my skull with little
effort. Yes, it was in a suit, the male version of a suit, but at
over nine feet tall, it was like putting a suit on a dinosaur.

After I picked my jaw up off the floor, it spoke
again in perfect English.

“I don’t mean to be startling. All of our coverts are
topside and we don’t have your species to greet you at the moment,”
it said.

Oh, God… did it just say “species?” Without thinking,
I pointed the gun at it. I was really hoping it was just an
experiment gone wrong. I could feel the sweat between my hand and
the metal as I squeezed the handle.

“My name is Danel,” it continued. “I’m the
facilitator at this station. I had the next two sections cleared,
so you didn’t have to see twenty of us at once. I understand you
find us quite shocking.”

It seemed unaffected by my movements or the gun. I
could see Aaron shaking his head at me in my peripheral vision, but
I wasn’t lowering the gun or taking my eyes off of the thing
standing in front of me.

Twenty more. My heart raced and my mouth became
unbearably dry and I couldn’t swallow. I could feel myself trying
to move outside of consciousness. My mind started swimming and my
vision blurred. I shook my head, blinking my eyes, forcing them to
focus.

“Jesus,” was all that came out of my mouth.

“You’re a little earlier than expected,” it said, as
it stared at Aaron.

This was too much, way too much. This was a bad dream
of the worst kind.

Aaron started breathing again and gained a little
composure.

“You were expecting us?” Aaron said, clearing his
throat.

“Yes, of course. We are always notified any time
there’s a flight in this direction. We’re all relieved that no one
else got to you first,” it said, now smiling a smile that looked
completely frightening and absolutely unnatural.

I felt my heart sink to my feet and my stomach fly up
to my throat and I was trembling. What followed this polite
exchange of words was a very bad moment of awkward silence. We just
stood there, staring at its glowing yellow eyes. It had no ears, no
nose that I could recognize. His hands looked like large spiders;
there were six or seven fingers on each one and what I thought was
an extra thumb. The pause was long, like a last stand right before
both parties started to open fire.

I took a slow, deep breathe. We were here, this thing
was talking to us and I was not going to lose it. I tried not to
think of the horrible things that could happen and just focus on
the present. Aaron almost seemed to relax as my anxiety soared. Was
this what he was expecting? I continued to stare up at it; we both
did. Its skin was a semi-translucent gray. Its teeth looked almost
metallic. It had a thumb on both sides of its hand. Then it spoke
again.

“First, let’s talk business… only because I have to.
The box you have is a device that sets off a series of locks and
basically starts a countdown for departure.”

The key word here was
departure
. I then
realized that the whole room was humming softly. I could hear what
sounded like large metal doors shifting and locking into place
beyond the room we were in.

“How many light years away do you want to be before
you hand me the box?”

The humming sound increased and I could now feel a
small vibration coming up through my shoes. I believed it, but I
was frozen, petrified.