Author: | Alan James | ISBN: | 9781466103955 |
Publisher: | Alan James | Publication: | July 20, 2011 |
Imprint: | Smashwords Edition | Language: | English |
Author: | Alan James |
ISBN: | 9781466103955 |
Publisher: | Alan James |
Publication: | July 20, 2011 |
Imprint: | Smashwords Edition |
Language: | English |
Kellerman tries desperately to hide his extended family, but, the good and bad factions of the U.S.Military close in on them from opposite directions. From a third side come the aliens once again, and finally, a fourth enemy they never expected. Four choices ... who to trust? Perhaps the answer still lies in the bunker back in Nevada, or, perhaps the most unlikely man of all holds the solution.
“You know I can’t talk about these things Pearly,” the General said sheepishly, knowing full well that in the past thirty years he had told his loyal wife enough secrets to get him drummed out of the service ten times over. “I just can’t. Not this time.”
“Well,” she said, laying her head back on his shoulder, “if it was bad enough that Walter and his black-shirts were in the middle of it, it must have been important.” After standing there for a few semi-tense moments (rocking back and forth in each other’s arms) she pulled her head back to lock eyes with him once again. Using that sixth-sense (that thirty years of marriage can often cultivate) she asked, “It’s Roswell again … isn’t it?” She paused again, reading the silent yes in his refusal to answer. “It’s the only other time that you two ever had a serious problem.”
She held firm, not letting him pull her close again. He could no longer look her in the eye (with his face full of lies) and it embarrassed him, so he looked away.
“My God Baby,” she said softly, almost maternally, “it is Roswell again.” Then, taking only a moment to ponder the implications of her next question, she said “They’ve come back.” Touching his chin to pull his face back to hers, she repeated “They have come back … haven’t they?”
The General still didn’t answer. As his eyes began to water, she held him close again. As he wrapped his arms full around her, she could feel his hands tremble.
“Baby,” she whispered, “it’s all right. I won’t ask any more questions.”
“No Pearly,” his body lurched slightly as he tried to hold back a sob, “it’s not the questions.” He squeezed her even tighter, “It’s just that … that … for the last two weeks … down there at Homestead, I was able to lose myself in my work. I didn’t have to think about what really went on down there.” He paused, pushing himself away enough to see her face again, “But now, here at home … holding you, I’ve suddenly realized how much I have to lose … how much we all have to lose.” This time, she didn’t answer, and he continued with tears now flowing freely, “Baby … I’ve seen them … I’ve been with them,” and when she didn’t react, he continued, “Baby, I’ve been with them … up there,” and he let his eyes roll upward. “They took me … with them … up there.”
Pasternak laid his head once again on Pearly’s shoulder and as they stood there in the foyer he lost himself in the protection that only her arms could provide.
Kellerman tries desperately to hide his extended family, but, the good and bad factions of the U.S.Military close in on them from opposite directions. From a third side come the aliens once again, and finally, a fourth enemy they never expected. Four choices ... who to trust? Perhaps the answer still lies in the bunker back in Nevada, or, perhaps the most unlikely man of all holds the solution.
“You know I can’t talk about these things Pearly,” the General said sheepishly, knowing full well that in the past thirty years he had told his loyal wife enough secrets to get him drummed out of the service ten times over. “I just can’t. Not this time.”
“Well,” she said, laying her head back on his shoulder, “if it was bad enough that Walter and his black-shirts were in the middle of it, it must have been important.” After standing there for a few semi-tense moments (rocking back and forth in each other’s arms) she pulled her head back to lock eyes with him once again. Using that sixth-sense (that thirty years of marriage can often cultivate) she asked, “It’s Roswell again … isn’t it?” She paused again, reading the silent yes in his refusal to answer. “It’s the only other time that you two ever had a serious problem.”
She held firm, not letting him pull her close again. He could no longer look her in the eye (with his face full of lies) and it embarrassed him, so he looked away.
“My God Baby,” she said softly, almost maternally, “it is Roswell again.” Then, taking only a moment to ponder the implications of her next question, she said “They’ve come back.” Touching his chin to pull his face back to hers, she repeated “They have come back … haven’t they?”
The General still didn’t answer. As his eyes began to water, she held him close again. As he wrapped his arms full around her, she could feel his hands tremble.
“Baby,” she whispered, “it’s all right. I won’t ask any more questions.”
“No Pearly,” his body lurched slightly as he tried to hold back a sob, “it’s not the questions.” He squeezed her even tighter, “It’s just that … that … for the last two weeks … down there at Homestead, I was able to lose myself in my work. I didn’t have to think about what really went on down there.” He paused, pushing himself away enough to see her face again, “But now, here at home … holding you, I’ve suddenly realized how much I have to lose … how much we all have to lose.” This time, she didn’t answer, and he continued with tears now flowing freely, “Baby … I’ve seen them … I’ve been with them,” and when she didn’t react, he continued, “Baby, I’ve been with them … up there,” and he let his eyes roll upward. “They took me … with them … up there.”
Pasternak laid his head once again on Pearly’s shoulder and as they stood there in the foyer he lost himself in the protection that only her arms could provide.