Indian Hill (31 page)
“We’ll just have to hide it even better than they did. I’ve got a plan.”
So for the next few days we all raided our parents’ garages for tools, pick axes, shovels and saws. We moved about a half mile further through the brush, we cleared a spot roughly the dimension of our soon to be palace, and we started digging. It was the hardest work any of us had ever done, but we loved it. We dug a huge hole, six feet deep and fifteen by fifteen feet across and wide. We couldn’t believe the work we had completed, it was awesome, and it was just a hole. Now the real fun was to begin. We took turns having a scout, that person would have a walkie-talkie and keep an eye out on the only route available to enter Indian Hill. We fortunately only had one false alarm, we would learn later that Rusty and his pseudo gang had probably stopped visiting this place months earlier. They were out of their exploring stage, they were driving and girls where pretty much all they wanted to explore now. But we didn’t know that then and we always felt that we were moments away from mortal danger. Log by log we moved that fort doing our best not to leave a telltale trail back to our new hide out. We borrowed another huge tarp from Dennis’s dad and that became our makeshift floor. Then piece by piece we stacked our logs against the earthen walls. For ten hours straight we worked on that fort, we dared not leave that part for another day. If by chance Rusty came up
t
here they would see their fort being ransacked and would just lie in wait for us. We capped it off with the original tarp and then cut down a few more logs and placed them on top. Than we covered that with pine needles and scrub brush and whatever else we could find. The only way anybody would ever see th
e
place would be to literally step on it. It was awesome. We had even dug out our sloped entrance on the far side to make it that much more invisible. Paul stole a gas lantern from the local hardware store and I stole a couple of bottles of booze from my parents’ never used liquor cabinet. I think it was a bottle of crème de menthe and some Bailey’s Irish crème. But we didn’t care; we had an awesome fort, Playboys and booze. What more could
we
want? We spent virtually that entire summer up there, bringing
various
treasures there to display on the walls like trophies. It was one of the last happy summer
s
I ever had before the whole teen angst stage moved in. From time to time I would go up there by myself when I needed to get away from my mother. Unfortunately the spirit of the place had diminished, without all the mirth and friendship it just became a hole in the ground; the Playboy’s had been replaced with newer Penthouse’s but even that couldn’t make the atmosphere any lighter.
And what a quandary my life had become, I had one of the best night’s sleep in months, remembering some of the best times in my life, but when I awoke I had a strange taste in my mouth. It was later that I realized it was the taste of bittersweet. Oh how I wished I could go back to those simpler days. But the fates had stepped in, and they were not to be denied.
“Mike, get up!” A disembodied voice yelled. All I could think was that I didn’t feel like going to school today.
“Mike get up!” Geez she was adamant today.
“They’re posting the new rankings and I really think that you should see this!”
“That definitely wasn’t my mother, where the hell?” and then I woke up. I liked my dream world much better. Even if it was a time long forgotten. The worst I would suffer back then was a bloody nose, not a spear in the belly.
“I’m coming!” I shouted. “Just let me put on some pants.” Damn, that didn’t sound good. If I had been a little more awake I would have chosen a better selection of words, especially with the tension that was flowing through this abode.
“You’re ranked
seventh
!” Tanya shouted with an almost gleeful tone. “That’s awesome.”
“Yeah,” I replied sarcastically. “If there were more than nine of us left.”
“Oh,” she sighed as the wind flew out of her sails.
“It says that you’re fighting the
second
and
seventh
ranked contestants. What does that mean?” Francesca, one of my new acquisitions said.
“No, you must be reading it wrong.” Or so I sincerely hoped. “I should either be fighting the
third or fourth
seed or by some grace of God I should have a bye.”
“No, it says you’re fighting Leonard Bernstein,
number 2
and Troy Trentner
number 6
, what does that mean?” She was almost pleading.
And so I paid a little more attention to what I was actually reading. The aliens had decided to do one on one on one-ers. Basically it was going to be every man for himself in a three-way. This was a very twisted and unwanted surprise. The odds of dying in this mess had increased geometrically. Not only would I have to study two men’s fighting techniques, I would also need to try to figure out how they would interact with each other
and
with me. If they decided to team up against me and get me out of the way first I was a goner. But I had to believe that each of the other men would consider me the weakest link and would rather have my help in eliminating the other and then try to finish me off. Or else they would just play renegade and kill the first thing that got in their way regardless of who it was. This was not a pretty turn of events, and of the three men going into the ring I was picked as a 50 to 1 long shot of being the one coming out alive.
Troy
, the number
6
guy, was in the neighborhood of 6’ tall, he didn’t look overly impressive but according to his bio he had been a fitness trainer another lifetime ago. He was agile and fast, his preferred weapon was the mace, and he wielded it like it was a child’s toy. Even with a miss he was able to bring it back around before his competition was able to parry a thrust. Leonard,
number
2
, was even less impressive but there he was. He looked like a lost accountant but the man had an uncanny ability with the bow. He had killed everyone he faced with that bow and arrow. I do
n’t know how many of you folks read
Lord of the Rings but he was as impressive with that bow as was Legolas the elf. I watched in fascination as he placed two perfectly aimed arrows into the chest of a running man from fifty yards away before that man
could take five more steps
. I don’t think the poor bastard had even registered the fact that he had been shot by the first arrow when the second one slammed home. A deal with Leonard was out of the question, he wouldn’t give two shits who was coming. I
couldn
’t imagine that he was afraid of either one of us. But
Troy
, well, he had to be a little concerned with the speed and accuracy which Leonard possessed. But I wasn’t even sure if the both of us together had a shot in hell. And could we possibly build enough mutual trust in that short of a time knowing full well that we would have to kill each other before the night was through? What a fucking mess. I was scared, and I didn’t want any of the women to know. I’m sure that they were suspicious but the drama in this place was already to a boiling point, I didn’t wish to be the flashpoint. I had not a clue what my next plan of action was. Luckily the aliens opened the door for me and I took full advantage.
Word came down the following day that the Supreme Commander wished to visit with the final nine warriors. Maybe he wanted to express his undying gratitude for our showmanship. I would have loved to have made it his dying gratitude but such pleasantries had to wait. If the Supreme Commander wanted to see us then that’s what we would do. I just had to take full advantage of that fact.
We met the Supreme Commander the following day with his entourage. Apparently we were either too far beneath him or he didn’t speak English, because he never once addressed us personally. It was all through one of his men or women (I still had no clue if this species reproduced sexually or asexually). He basically just wanted to thank us for a job well done, and as gesture of goodwill he laid out a spread worthy of a king. There were lobsters and steaks and every imaginable food along with, bless his heart, beer. It was a bitter beer but it was beer nonetheless. The only thing that would have made it a good night would have been if I wasn’t with eight guys that wanted me dead, but I was truly unconcerned with all of them save one,
Troy
. I tried desperately to make contact with him without appearing to make contact with him. Leonard didn’t give a care about anyone else there, he paid no attention to anything except the food and the beer. Durgan was too busy attempting to intimidate everyone. The rest I felt were much more on my wavelength, yeah they had confidence and some swagger but they were also leery. They were aware of everything going on around them, they like me were attempting to size up their competition, and it was then that I noted
Troy
looking directly at me. My heart leaped into my throat; this might be the only chance I had, and if he misconstrued my message we both would be sunk. I pointed at my chest and then at his and mouthed the words ‘me and you.’ At first he had a quizzical look upon his face and then my hopes sunk as anger began to cross his face. I think he thought I was directly challenging him. And then thankfully recognition dawned; he nodded once in agreement. So the plan was set. I could only hope that he would hold up his end of the bargain. And to be honest it wasn’t much of a plan, we had merely bargained to forestall our own demise in favor of killing the far more dangerous of us three. What a twisted world we had stumbled upon, in all the imaginable tangents I could have foreseen my life going into, this one wasn’t even on the scope. After I had made my intentions clear to
Troy
I actually partook of the abundance in front of me. In some respects this could be my last meal, who knew. The beer was bitter but it was beer nonetheless. And it was not as bitter as my thoughts as I dwelled on the upcoming battle.
Outside Vail,
Colorado
“That’s it Dewey you’ve got it. Now stay steady and squeeze the trigger, don’t pull it,” Paul said as he moved down the firing line to check on the rest of the recruits. It wasn’t much of an army, twenty-two people to be exact, but he knew the government was covering up the whole alien conspiracy. Dewey had been in the parking lot when the ship came and took his friends away. No matter who he pleaded his case to they always turned a deaf ear. And he was sick of it. Paul, after his latest visit with Senator Allard, had decided to take matters into his own hands. Not many people took him seriously but he had a small decently armed and growing militia. And he had left enough fliers on campus so that when the shit did hit the fan the rest of the non-believers would have a semi-safe haven. Paul had never been one to embrace military affairs, that was always best left to those who were trained for such things. But by sheer luck or divine will he ran into a character named Frank Salazar, a former Marine, who had been taking a few classes on the campus to further his education. Paul and Frank didn’t necessarily see eye to eye but they both believed in the cover-up and the impending invasion. Nobody comes down to earth and scoops up ten thousand people or so without some kind of ulterior motive. Frank still had some connections at the reserve station in
Colorado Springs
. The sergeant of the armory was sympathetic to th
e
new cause and was also a ranking officer in the newly founded Colorado State Militia. M16A2’s and the corresponding ammunition had somehow fallen off of a truck bound for Twenty-Nine Palms and landed in the militia’s arms. The makeshift army had found an old hiker’s cabin, the kind that are built way out in the wilderness so that if someone is caught out in severe weather, they might be lucky enough to stumble across one of th
em
. The cabin itself was used mainly for meetings; the men had started building bivouac huts. They figured two would be enough to house them all comfortably. Paul had them build twelve. It was difficult to train against an enemy when you didn’t even know what they looked like. The majority of their days were spent on honing their survival skills such as chopping wood for the coming winter, storing food, keeping the generators in peak operating condition and building and reinforcing the original structures. And when the basic chores were completed, the men all practiced their shooting under the watchful eye of Frank. He was by far the most qualified having attained three expert badges while in the Corps. And he had been thoroughly pleased with the progress of his men. Eight of them were without a doubt experts, ten were good enough that you didn’t want to be in their line of fire, and three, well those three needed a little more tender loving care, and a lot more ammunition. Well at least Frank knew which three to put on the perimeter defense. If you c
ouldn
’t shoot you ha
d
to be closer to the action. Frank saw to the training and the discipline of the men. He felt that they were truly beginning to gel into a fighting force. He wouldn’t want to take them up against Marine regulars but these guys could give the army a run for their money. Paul saw to the day-to-day affairs, recruitment, and if he couldn’t get a warm body he was always looking for cold hard cash. And there were a lot of people out there who wouldn’t publicly admit to what was happening, but when it went down they also wanted that safe haven. The
U.S.
government hadn’t even mobilized the National Guard yet. By this stage of the game U.S. Marines should have been stationed at every major city. Frank was under the impression that the National Guard would take three to four full days to mobilize. The way the ships moved they’d be lucky to have a three or four hour warning. No, these small bands of brothers had made the decision to not go out like lambs, helpless to the slaughter.