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 Breakdown  (5 ratings)by Stephen Shinn Page 2 of 4 "Of course son, get in." A rough voice replied as the door opened.
Derrick slid into the passenger seat, thanking the man. It took all of his
resolve to stifle a laugh as he got a better look at the driver, who bore an
uncanny resemblence to Richard Nixon in a straw farmer's hat and coveralls.
"Rescued by the Deliverance version of Tricky Dick? Whoa!" Derrick mused to himself as the old truck coasted slowly up the rough road. "I really do appreciate your help sir. My car is a total goner." "You shouldn't be out wandering alone out here son, it ain't safe." Farmer Nixon replied. "I agree." Derrick said as he glanced down at his watch. "Aw crud, my watch is busted too! It still reads just after twelve. Do you happen to have the time, mister?" "Nope." The old man replied, eyes fixed on the road. "I don't wear no watch." "I must have busted it when I went postal on the steering wheel." Derrick stated as he saw lights just behind the treeline. "Are we getting close to town?" He queried. "Yep." The old man nodded in reply. Derrick had visions of frozen burritos and Pepsi dancing in his head, hoping that it was a convenience store. He hadn't eaten in hours, and he was famished. He could nearly feel his stomach sticking to his backbone. As they rounded a curve Derrick's jaw dropped as he saw the source of the light behind the trees, and it sure wasn't a Quickie Mart. A spaceship, for lack of a proper description. Not a typical flying saucer, nor even like a craft seen on Star Wars or Star Trek. It appeared to be a fusion of a metallic substance and some sort of living organism. Shiny unearthly alloys combined with a dark, slimy, hide-like substance. Derrick sat transfixed as he watched the organic parts writhing as if the craft were actually breathing. The main portion of the ship resembled the finished product of a tarantula and hedgehog ground together in a food processor. Massive spiky protusions gave the ship an even more menacing arachnid-like appearance. The sheer size of the craft was forbidding, rivaling the diameter of Wrigley Field. Derrick managed to pull his gaze from the craft toward Farmer Nixon, who surely must have passed out from the horror floating before them. But the driver of the old truck was grinning like he was just elected president! "Hey mister, we gotta turn around and get outta here!" Derrick pleaded. The old man either did not hear Derrick or was hypnotized by the image before them, and accelerated toward the craft. "Dude, are you nuts? That's not E.T. driving that intergalactic party bus! Let's bolt!" And still he received no reaction from the driver, Derrick reached for the farmer's arm. With uncanny speed the old man's right hand shot forth grasping Derrick's wrist in a viselike grip twisting his arm agonizingly. Derrick struggled beneath the man's grasp but could not get loose. Suddenly, the man let go and slammed on the brakes causing Derrick, who was not wearing his seatbelt, to fly forward smashing into the winshield. Blood flowed freely into Derrick's eyes from the many cuts in his forehead, obscuring his vision in a crimson haze. He winced as he felt the old man grab him by the hair roughly, then all went dark as Derrick's head smashed repeatedly into the dashboard. Derrick lay unconscious for what seemed like an eternity. His first signs of consciousness returned as the passenger door to the truck swung open. He found himself once again in the old man's grasp and dragged roughly from the vehicle. The light grew brighter as the man dragged him closer to the ship. Derrick tried blinking away the blood that was flowing freely from his forehead. He noticed through blurred vision, a trio of small beings with large dark eyes and oversized heads. "Whatta ya know they do look like the tabloid pictures, mom." Derrick mumbled incoherently as Farmer Nixon drops him unceremoniously to the ground. Copyright © 1999, 2000, 2001 Stephen Shinn, sffworld.com. All rights reserved. No part of this may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the author. The author has submitted the work in accordance with and in agreement with the following Submission Guidelines. |
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