Authors: J. K. Accinni
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Horror, #Literary, #Teen & Young Adult, #Literary Fiction
When Aliens Weep
When Aliens Weep
Species Intervention #6609
By
J. K. Accinni
E. K. Publishing
Lakewood Ranch, Florida
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
WHEN ALIENS WEEP
SPECIES INTERVENTION #6609
J.K. Accinni
An EK Publishing book published in arrangement with the author, Lakewood Ranch, FL.
Copyright © 2014 J.K. Accinni
Editing by
LionheART Publishing House
All rights reserved.
This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form without permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without permission of the author is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.
Other Books by J.K. Accinni:
Baby (Species Intervention #6609, Book 1)
Echo (Species Intervention #6609, Book 2)
Armageddon Cometh (Species Intervention #6609, Book 3)
Hive (Species Intervention #6609 Book 4)
Evil Among Us (Species Intervention #6609, Book 5)
The One (Species Intervention #6609, Book 6)
Alien Species Intervention Books 1-3
Contents
Earth—Eleven Hours before the End
Chapter 1
Seth lay prostrate in the dust of the red earth, snot from his exhausted crying jag dried on his face and congealed in the dirt.
It had been hours since the golden creatures and their flying entourage had left with the infernal dog. He’d miserably failed to recover from the shock of his glorious crumbled dreams and fallen asleep while the detritus of his fallen comrades mocked him with the unexplainable evidence of their rag-festooned skeletons.
The clicking sound of a beast slowly awakened him; a foreign noise that penetrated his consciousness, a dark awareness blossoming like a macabre pustule, throbbing and ready to burst its bacterial poisons.
Pain radiated from his clawed hand that lay jammed uncomfortably under his body, screaming for release. Slow to open his gummy eyes, he felt the hot breath of an ursine beast at his neck, forcing him to freeze as it investigated the stench that clung to him; the myriad of odors enticing to the bear, even as the siren call of the Hive tugged at it like a magnet.
The bear clawed once, turning Seth over and forcing him to look straight into the curious face, its breath smelling of berries and grubs. Finding the pull of the Hive irresistible, the bear chuffed in his face then wandered off down the road, leaving Seth to his ignoble fate.
And what a miserable fate that was. He curled into a fetal position, unwilling to lay eyes on what was left of his lover and his men. Their fatal images had been burned indelibly in his mind as they’d taken their last breaths and collapsed in the dirt, the miniscule black and red projectiles returning to the split antlers of the evil and vicious creature known as Echo.
Has that creature enslaved the Others with its diabolical power
? he wondered.
Tired of self-pity and with no appreciative audience, Seth began to take stock. The effort expended to force himself into a sitting position wore him down. No matter how hard he tried, his strength ebbed from the emotional distress his efforts were causing. Try as he might, he continued to flounder, unable to invent a plausible way to spin this hideous outcome to his grandiose plans.
The last thing he wanted was to become a laughing stock instead of the conquering hero he’d originally intended. Pathetically, the realization was just sinking in that the only thing conquered was him and his band of misfits and toadies.
He’d been made to look like a fool by two oversized
flying cats . . . no, deer . . . no . . . well,
whatever the fuck they are . . .
The next time I see those abominations, I’ll show them just who they’re toying with. If they hadn’t caught me off guard . . .
Seth wiped the traces of his blubbering off his face with the ragged end of his sleeve. He scrambled to his feet and listened for sounds, the pre-dawn wrapping him in its silent awaiting. The absence of further rustlings from the edge of the road told him it must be safe to start his journey back to the tribe’s settlement. Alone . . .
Every time he remembered he was on his own, depression returned. How would he explain the loss of his men? He remembered the confused reaction of the tribe as he and his men returned victoriously from the first meeting with the Others, waving Lorna’s severed hand and declaring himself the new leader. The quiet covert whispers and tight faces of the women had not escaped his notice.
Who knows what havoc the nasties were working on behind my back while I bravely set out to negotiate with the Others? I did all this for them, the ungrateful bitches
.
Hitching up
his pants, Seth stretched, his aching limbs testifying to the many hours he’d lain sleeping on the ground. Turning his back on what was left of his men, he began the long hike back to the settlement, watching as the moon began to disappear, soon to be rendered invisible by the sun’s infant rays greedy to claim their rightful turn in the sky.
***
Hours later, the dawn long vanished, he knew he neared the tribe. His heartbeat ratcheted up with stress. Every possible lie long discarded, he knew it was time to face the music.
As he ascended the last rise, smoke from
multiple breakfast fires rose to greet the late morning sun. From his vantage point, he saw various tribesmen and women still scurrying around with the chores of the morning. Carefree children were chasing each other while older teenagers egged them on.
The ramshackle nature of their dwellings appeared pleasantly blurred from his position, allowing the settlement to take on the appearance of an actual village. In the distance he could see the groves of fruit and nut trees they’d painstakingly transplanted from deep in the mine, a monumental task. The seedlings had thrived in the open under the watchful glare of the sun and the now skilled farming members of the tribe.
To the left, he spied figures in the fields, already at work tending their lush vegetable crops. They appeared to grow wherever they found a spot to plant them. The damage done by hungry roving creatures bothered them little.
A couple wandered away from the children toward an outcrop of rocks, closer to his vantage point. Young lovers? As he watched them kiss, he guessed it wouldn’t be long before the young girl claimed her man and started a home of her own.
He tore his gaze away from the young lovers, jealousy an emotion that plagued him forcefully, reminding him of all that he no longer had.
It appeared quite clear that the tribe flourished well under the leadership of his dispatched sister. Did they even need him?
He vainly considered turning around and throwing himself on the mercy of the Others rather than face the certain wrath and scorn of his own people. Seth wiped his beaded brow, the sun making him sweat. Crouched with his back to the encampment, absorbed in his own self-pity, he failed to see members of the tribe stop their chores and stand speechless as the late morning air began to sizzle, the sun rising over the eastern horizon blinding them.
Seth’s discomfort from the sun began to sink in. But not in time to witness the first of the monumental solar flares that lit the sky, making the forty-five-mile-wide chunk of metallic space debris glow as it fought with the flare to be the first to reach the vulnerable planet.
Two Hours Before The End
Chapter 2
Johno directed the keepers with a heavy heart. The men were ever flexible but he could see their broken spirits in the cant of their shoulders and the pain in their eyes.
“No, my friend. You’re pulling up plants. We need to rid the field of the weeds. Like this.” Johno demonstrated with a quick slash into the red dirt with his shovel, severing the roots and flipping the plant clear of the soil. He bent his timeworn back to retrieve the weed and stuff it into the sling hanging from his back like the other men.
A hand grasped his shoulder. Johno turned to see one of his men shading his other hand over his eyes and looking toward the hill that led to the woods and the path to the Hive. He just caught a glimpse of some of the other survivors disappearing into the trees. What was that glimmer in the air?
If I didn’t know better, I’d say that Baby and Echo were back.
“Boss, I think they were trying to get our attention.”
Johno squinted back up at the hill, evidence of the migration to the Hive littering the ground. “Are you sure?”
He turned back to his trusted men. “I’d better see what’s happening. I’ll go see if I can find Hud, maybe stop by the kitchen and see what Dezi knows. You boys want to take a break? I’ll wait and see what Dezi has for us for lunch while I’m at it.”
Watching Johno give the hill another quick glance told his men that the concern in Johno’s dark expressive African eyes was more for the loss of their beloved Tobi and her herd than anything else.
Johno started his trek out of the fields amidst the uneasy whispers and mumbling of his men as they took refuge under a huge walnut tree. It served as a welcome respite from an unusually hot late morning sun, a grateful balm to their overheated bodies.
Johno hurried, wiping his perspiring brow with a rag, his shirt plastered to his sleek knotted muscles even as sweat continued to pour down his underarms. He felt an uncoiling in the pit of his stomach, a viper he tried to quell with sheer willpower.
He tried unsuccessfully to shake off his emotional paralysis, served to him by the realization that he no longer shared the planet with the creatures he loved with every fiber of his being. Elephant-tender no more, he would tend crops until, by the grace of the Womb, Tobi and her herd would be allowed to return home. He nurtured the tiny flare of hope, refusing to relinquish his fiercely held aspiration.
Reaching the edge of the field, he raced to the kitchen. From his left, he could see Hud and Ginger Mae at the base of the road leading to the woods.
“Hey there, Hud . . . Ginger Mae
.
Wait up!”
The couple turned and waited, the smiles on their welcoming faces slowly melting as Johno’s dripping condition and obvious state caused them to tense.
Johno caught up, heaving breath cutting off his words. “Hey . . . ah . . . You guys . . . you guys see anything unusual?”