You’ll Never Guess What Happened
Copyright© 2026 by TMax
Chapter 5: The Search to Kick Alien Ass
Almost all night I searched. Up and down, I worried my finger bone and wondered if the military watched me. I wanted to ask them where to find the alien, but given that no fighter jets or tanks or troops had arrived, they may not know where to find the stupid thing. And given that nothing electronic worked, maybe they couldn’t get close enough. My gaze kept looking up, looking for the nuclear missile that would destroy my everything. Aliens, then a nuclear missile. Could my life get worse?
Like those nights in the city, except worse, because the city still lived at night, while small towns slept, although, given the abandoned cars, open restaurants with uneaten food on the plates, and lack of any lights, our small town had died. Killed by stupid aliens.
I know I should have wondered about our place in the universe. After all, confirmation of alien life, intelligent alien life, should have caused an existential crisis, but anger helped keep philosophy in a box, buried deep in my soul.
As Dad always said, ‘Morals and philosophy only matter when you have a full stomach and someplace safe to sleep.’ Well, I did have a full stomach, but I didn’t have a safe place to sleep. Hell, I didn’t even have a cat anymore.
Of course, Mom would counter with, ‘That’s when they matter even more.’ I didn’t know which one I agreed with, but I knew that the alien had killed my best friend, JJ, and the town I lived in, and if someone didn’t stop them, my country, or even my world.
Hours and hours, I walked. I wish I could say that I didn’t steal food, chocolate bars, and the expensive fancy pop from the gas station, but I did. Or maybe you could think of it as an advance payment for ridding the town of the alien menace.
Down main street, through our two stop lights, then around over to third street, second, first, water, cypress, patrick, marylou, and finally market street. No aliens. No sinister presence. And my legs hurt from walking too much. And yes, I did try the cars, but nothing started. No electronics worked. The portable radio only played the two stations, one with news every fifteen minutes between Hank Williams songs, and the other with the military message between Hank Williams songs. Ok, maybe they played other music, but it all sounded like Hank Williams to me, whom I used to like, until I heard it a billion too many times in a row.
The sun crested the horizon, beautiful, something I saw every morning after work, something that still takes my breath away.
And then I found it. In the junkyard. It had assembled some sort of contraption, spaceship maybe, large, with strange angles, and a mishmash of colors. The thing oozed over a yellow and green hood from a tractor, while it held, or dragged, a long, thin, gray-reddish rod.
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