Sheriff Dick Barnett cursed out loud and wondered why, as he bounced around inside his SUV patrol car and struggled to attach his seat-belt, anyone would want to live out here on this bumpy lumpy logging road, no electricity, TV — . And he was further annoyed at having to come all the way out to the Hawkins place chasing some damned shootin’ stars reported by “the authorities” — as Barnett called the people he disdained up in the state capital. They called ’em Unidentified Flying Objects. UFOs. “Go check it out!” they ordered. Finally after a thirty-minute drive over the bony muddy road he pulled up in front of the Hawkins’ place which also marked the end of the road.
Kate Hawkins walked out into the yard as the patrol car approached. “Well hello Sheriff Barnett, what brings you out here?” she said, as the tall lanky sheriff with the protruding beer-gut stepped out of the patrol car. “Been awhile since we seen you down in these parts”, the cute petite woman continued. Barnett replied “Oh nothing serious Ms Hawkins. The authorities say that some shootin’ stars landed out here last evening, and they asked me to check it out. I was just wondering if you saw anything? They think there was probably a smoke trail or something people might have noticed. They were reported down in Barkerville; that’s 90 miles away but they reckon they come down hereabouts. Didn’t see anything did ya?” “Well yes I did sheriff. Come right over the house, just barely. All afire don’t ya know”. Well I’ll be damned, thought Barnett, there’s something to it. “Which way did they go?” “That way” Kate said pointing to the northwest sky. Just then Archie Hawkins stepped out of the house, and without another word his wife timidly retreated back inside.
Barnett thought Archie Hawkins made quite a picture, less than thirty years old, and already with the leathery withered skin of an old man, which together with his missing teeth, perpetual smile and half-bald head, gave him the comical look of a human jack-o-lantern. Barnett thought him a good-natured enough fella, had never had occasion to visit him before and rarely saw him in town; just lives out here in the woods with his wife Kate and brother Preston, and keep to themselves, no bother to anybody.
“So what can we do for ya Sheriff ?” Archie said as he approached the law officer. Archie Hawkins’ mind raced. He knew he was a poacher. And he knew his brother Preston was a poacher. And he knew his wife Kate knew they were both poachers. And he knew that there was a six-point buck hanging from the oak tree out backa the house; if Preston hadn’t already got it up under the barn. But Archie’d always been quiet about his hunting, as he had been this time; taking only what they need now and again. It’s not like he was some drunken fool bragging in town how he’d done this or that. Why would the sheriff be nosing around now? he wondered, when Barnett interrupted the moment of silence. “Oh nothing much Arch.” as if he knew what Hawkins was thinking, the authorities say that some shootin’ stars landed out here yesterday, and they asked me to check it out. I was just wondering if you saw anything?”
Hawkins panicked — “Damned shootin’ stars!?…”Well we didn’t see no shootin’ stars if that’s what you’re asking?” Mmmmm?, thought Barnett. “How’s that?” “We didn’t see nothing.” Archie repeated. “Where’s Preston?” the sheriff went on, his interest now peaked. “Out back at work in the garden.” Archie answered fidgeting and glancing away with the grin of child who’s lying. “No didn’t see nothing. We go to bed early around here,” he said looking at the ground again.
“Oh they say it happened in evening — late afternoon.” the sheriff went on…”thought you might have been outside. Went right over your head, close to the ground they suppose.” he added, just as Kate had told him. “The authorities think there was probably a smoke trail or something people mighta noticed. They were seen over in Barkerville — .and I know that’s 90 miles away but they tracked them hereabouts,” Barnett replied, again repeating himself. There was another pregnant silence.
Sensing why Archie had lied Barnett continued “Now Arch I know you and Preston take a deer now and then. I’m not here about all that. Just wondering if you saw anything in the sky last evening? They seem kinda serious about it up north.”
All the air went right out of Archie Hawkins and back in again. “Well we did see something.” “I know” said Barnett with a sarcastic smile. “Kate told me already. Why were you lying to me about it Arch?”
“On account of Kate don’t know the half about it sheriff. Me and Preston, we are the ones that seen ’em. We was a way out at the back forty, Bryer’s Runn-off. Late afternoon like you say.” “What was you doing out there Arch?” “Looking for something for the pot” Hawkins admitted in almost a whisper to the one person in the world he thought he’d never confess to. “But we seen something else too.” “And what was that you saw Arch?” “We seen them space-man varmints.” “Huh? Spaceman varmints? Where?” “A way out at the back forty like I said. We seen ’em when they landed, not far from the six-point buck that’s hanging out back,” Hawkins added, relieving himself of the whole load. “Tell me everything Arch, while we take a walk out there.” the sheriff demanded. “Now?” asked Hawkins. “Right now! And I want Preston along!” “Well Sheriff …” “Come on now!” Barnett ordered sharply, as he started toward the back yard to gather up Preston. The three of them started out for the back forty a few minutes later.
As they walked along Archie suddenly volunteered. “Well sheriff we was scared. We seen them come in for a landing.” “How many were there?” “Ten I think, there was ten of them flying machines.” “What did the ships look like Arch?… how big were they?” “They looked round as a ball, smaller than my pickup. They hit kinda hard, and was on fire. Some burnt up right to a crisp, burnt right up to nothing with whatever was inside ’em. We seen it all.” “And what about the rest?”
“Well there we was with our rifles and plenty of cartridges. So when those doors come open and them spacemen varmints was trying to escape the flames Preston and I kilt ’em. We shot every goddamned one of ’em. All but two. There was two together in every ship near as we could tell. One landed the other side of Bryer’s Run-off and they ran off into the woods. We was afraid to follow ’em, its awful thick down in there you know. But we did send a few shots their way. Preston thinks he mighta hit one or maybe even the both of ’em. He’s got an awful keen eye ya know. It was gettin’ dark by then and we didn’t want to lose the deer we’d dropped. So we tossed them dead spaceman-varmints on the fires, which was hotter than hell, and they all burnt up into nothing. You’ll see — We trussed up the deer and come on home. No good reason for us to tell anybody.”
The sheriff’s nose caught the smell of smoke some time before they came to the spot. And when they did, there just as plain as could be, just as Archie Hawkins had said, — were nine neat circular piles of pure burnt ash with no clue as to what they might have been. On the far side of the creek, a hundred yards or so, the they could see a tenth such pile…still smoldering slightly like most of the others.
Barnett got on the radio to the station. He didn’t explain anything about the fantastic story he had just heard, reporting only that there were missing persons and requesting search and rescue, which he thought probably wouldn’t be there anytime soon.
“You say two run off in the woods?” “I think so.” Hawkins replied pointing to the far side of Bryer’s Run-off. “Only room for two in there.” Hawkins aded. “Did they use any weapons against you?” “No” “Did they have anything with them?” “Not that we seen. We might’ve hit ’em though. It was getting dark but we sent the last of our bullets after ’em; awful thick down in there ya know.”
Sheriff Barnett drawing his gun, and walking toward the creek ordered Archie Hawkins back to the house and to wait. When the others arrived he was to guide them here. Preston was to stand guard at this spot and come and lend assistance should he hear the sheriff call.
Barnett tried to cross the run-off, which was about a foot deep, without getting his feet wet but soon gave up the pretension and plunged into the cold stream heading in the direction Archie had indicated; replacing his pistol in the holster as the stream-bed made walking unsteady. The Hawkins brothers watched as his tan-shirted back disappeared into the underbrush and dutifully followed his order.
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The sheriff hadn’t gone more than a few hundred feet down the brook when he came upon a grisly scene. There in a foot of running water lay a body of a woman. The bullet wound that had probably killed her was obvious just below her right shoulder. It struck him how ghostly white she was and he muttered to himself, with some disgust and pity that she must have bled out before she died. He considered for a moment stopping there, but thought it best to go on. She wasn’t going anywhere he thought, there were two of them and maybe there were still some answers to be got a little further down-stream. So on he slogged thru the sloppy mess.
It just so happened that when he came upon more solid ground, he saw that so had someone else. There were footprints in the soft muddy earth and their direction was clear. Barnett again drew his sidearm and followed cautiously. Perhaps five hundred yards from the first body, he came upon another, a man, who lay prone on the ground, motionless.
Barnett, sensing he was no threat, again holstered his gun and knelt down beside the man. As he did a moan escaped from the prostate figure and the sheriff reached around and gently turned him over onto his back while glancing around for a more comfortable place he might help him to. The powerful cop easily lifted the small man and laid him down on a bed of mossy ground nearby and tried ascertaining his wounds and condition. He too had been shot, but through the upper leg. But he was still bleeding, and after all these hours that was a bad sign. Is this murder? the lawman thought as he comforted the obviously dying man and bound up his wound as best he could.
Suddenly! to Sheriff Barnett’s astonishment the man cried. “Help me!, my wife!, help me!” and might have struggled to his feet had he been so grievously wounded and weak. “I am here to help you” the sheriff replied.” I am a police officer. More help is on the way.” “My wife — my wife. I think she’s hurt badly.” cried the stranger with a sudden burst of energy that startled, almost frightened Barnett…who’s mind raced back to the body in the stream. “She’s being taken care of sir.” the cop lied. “Relax. Let’s hope we can do the same for you.” “I am dead already.” the man replied weakly sinking back to the ground.
Barnett was quickly on his radio requesting emergency helicopter Medivac and further assistance. Something awful had gone on here; but what exactly and why out here in the very middle of nowhere? What the hell was this? What he already knew was strange and every moment only added to the mystery.
The man who lay before him began to speak unsteadily, though he seemed calmed and stronger than a few minutes before. “We only came to live; to survive. And now we die. My wife..my wife” “Don’t worry about your wife sir. Who are you?” “My name is Dahni Porter” “Where are you from?” asked the sheriff. “Indirica” he replied to an unknowing Barnett. “I don’t understand. How did you get here?” “Our ships” the stranger replied with a groan fighting a sudden spasm of pain. “What ships? Do mean space-ships? Are you from another planet? …from outer-space?” the Sheriff asked; meaning to sound serious but feeling nearer to foolish.
“We had to escape. The environment would no longer support life. Extinction was certain. We didn’t know how it would turn out but we had to take the chance that we could start again.” ” But where are you from?” the sheriff asked again.
“We are from Earth, from your future, the year 15207. There was nothing for us to do but try to travel back to the past — .and hope our ancestors would understand…” he replied, his voice trailing into a whisper. He’s weakening fast thought the sheriff.
“We had so much to give you; so much to teach you. We were from the distant. We were your children’s children. We were the last — the last–the last humans on Earth. And you have killed us.” And calmly, tears running from his closed his eyes, he fell to silence.
“Hang on. Don’t leave me.” the astonished policeman pleaded. But as the sheriff spoke, the man, staring blankly into the sky as if Barnett was no longer there, once more, this time as if pleading to a greater power, tears running over his face “My wife and..!” Then a vacant stare, familiar enough to the sheriff, came over his eyes, and he knew the man was gone. Sheriff Dick Barnett had witnessed the very end of the human race and who would believe it? The Hawkins brothers had committed murder, as many a man might have done under such a circumstance.
Certain that the man was dead, and picking up his body, Barnett started the trek back to the landing to await the arrival of others wondering how this could ever be explained. As he sloshed through the watery ground he thought he heard a strange sound.
A sound certainly alien to this place.
He stopped and listened.
Then he walked toward the sound…. and he saw there… nestled in a soft bed of fern fronds… that it was indeed…
the sound of a baby crying.
Copyright Kevin Sysyn All rights reserved.
