azombiewrites (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
azombiewrites) wrote2009-07-05 12:43 pm
azombiewrites) wrote2009-07-05 12:43 pm
The Magnificent Seven Fic - 'Are you a Believer' - 2/2
Title: Are you a Believer?
Rating: PG
Fandom: The Magnificent Seven
Category: ATF
Main Characters: Ezra and Buck and Josiah
Disclaimers: The guys are owned by CBS, MGM, Trilogy Entertainment Group, and The Mirisch Corp.
Notes: My second story for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
10_hurt_comfort challenge. The original table can be found here.
Table: Injuries
Prompt: No. 6 – insect bite
Summary: While Josiah, Buck and Ezra escort an unstable witness into Denver, Ezra is stung by a wasp
Spoilers: None
Status: Complete
Part Two
It felt like someone had poured gasoline over his arm, from fingertips to elbow, and then set it alight. His flesh burned, and his skin itched. Ezra wanted to scratch his arm but the thought of touching the inflamed skin repulsed him. He clenched his teeth against the pain, and forced his breath out between tight thin lips. His stomach felt as though it had become part of a tree in a storm, twisting, lifting, falling and swaying from side to side. His head, aching still, seemed to be moving in time with his stomach. If he sat up now, or even stood up, he would faint. Ezra was sure of it.
All because of a damn wasp sting.
“No, he hasn’t got a fever.”
Ezra felt someone’s hand on his forehead, and then on his cheek. He didn’t open his eyes to look. He was too busy concentrating on trying to control his stomach. If he did throw up again, it was going to be in the car. There would be vomit everywhere, on his trousers, on his shoes and the smell... Ezra closed his eyes even tighter against the thought when his stomach lifted and fell, a small portion of it pooling in his throat. He swallowed. It didn’t help. Ezra pushed himself even closer to the door, his knees pressing painfully against the door handle, the right side of his forehead against the window frame and the wind blowing in his face. The scenery passed by unnoticed.
“Ezra?”
“What?” He didn’t release his jaw when he spoke, keeping it clenched so tightly that it began to ache almost as much as his head.
“Nathan wants to know if you’re breathing okay.” Buck was leaning forward between the two front seats. His left arm held onto Ezra’s seat, his right held a cell phone against his ear. “I can’t tell because you’ve got yourself all curled up against the door.”
Ezra opened his mouth and took in a deep breath, held it and then let it out, testing and searching for any indication that he was having difficulty breathing. At the moment his breathing seemed to be fine, of course that didn’t mean that the natural ease of breathing would stay that way. He lifted his head and nodded yes, and then he groaned when his brain felt like it had bounced against his skull. He was going to be sick again.
“He says he’s breathing okay, Nathan.”
A few seconds later, Buck asked, “Do you still feel sick?”
Ezra actually growled at Buck.
“Yeah, Nathan, he’s still feeling sick.” Buck listened for a couple of minutes and then snapped his cell phone shut. Staying where he was, he said, “Nathan said you’ll be fine. Wasp stings are nasty but you’ll live, as long as you’re not allergic, anaphylactic shock allergic that is. Said all you need is some antihistamines, and you’ll feel a lot better.”
Ezra, deciding that Nathan had to be wrong, because he sure as hell didn’t feel like he was going to live for much longer, opened his eyes, turned his head carefully and glared at Buck.
Buck smiled back, “Says that the sting will make you feel sick and that the movement of the car would only make it a lot worse. But there’s nothing we can do about that, so the best thing for you to do, would be to sit up and look straight ahead.”
“Really,” said Ezra before turning away again. He laid his head back down on the window frame and closed his eyes. He hoped that the nausea he was feeling would kill itself sometime in the immediate future.
“Hey, Mr. Wilmington, that’s what I said,” Ralph spoke from the back seat as he tapped Buck’s shoulder. “I just hope Mr. Yohonas didn’t add anything to the wasp venom. They can do that you know.”
Ezra rolled his eyes under their lids. He knew Ralph meant well, that’s why he didn’t tell him to shut the fuck up.
==========================================
Forty minutes later and still more than three hours from Denver, Ezra had finally fallen into a restless sleep. Every few minutes, Josiah would take his eyes away from the road to look at him. Nathan had told Buck that Ezra would be fine but Ezra didn’t look fine, not to Josiah. He thought Ezra looked too pale, his features covered in sweat and there was a permanent grimace on his face. Even in his sleep, Ezra was still feeling the pain of the wasp sting.
The day was turning sour, especially for Ezra. Josiah sighed, and looked back to the road.
He saw a sign up ahead warning him that he was about to pass a Valero Gas Station. Josiah smiled. They all needed a break, a moment to stretch their legs and maybe, just maybe the Valero convenience store would have something for Ezra. Something that would make the remaining three-hour road trip easier on Ezra and his stomach. Josiah slowed down, almost coming to a stop before pulling into the gas station. He drove slowly and carefully over a speed hump but the passengers still bounced in their seats and Ezra jerked awake, a gasp of pain escaping from the Southerner’s clenched lips.
“Sorry, Ezra,” said Josiah. “Thought it would be a good idea to stop for a while. We all need a break, and it’ll give your stomach a chance to settle.”
Ezra wrapped his left arm around his stomach and nodded at both the apology and the idea.
Josiah brought the SUV to a stop next to a gas pump and couldn’t help but notice the Ford Falcon Cobra parked on the other side of the pump, the driver’s door open and the engine still running. He narrowed his eyes at the sight; something was wrong.
“Buck,” said Josiah.
“I see it,” answered Buck as he pulled the Glock from his holster.
Ralph looked down at the gun now resting against Buck’s thigh. “It’s the aliens, isn’t it? They’re here aren’t they? How did they find me? You promised me you wouldn’t let them take me!” Ralph shifted in his seat and looked in the same direction as everyone else. “The Pugamitesens don’t drive cars.”
Josiah, knowing that Buck would be watching the convenience store, looked at Ezra who was looking past him toward the yellow Ford. Before Josiah could say anything, Ezra said, “Go, I’ll keep an eye on Ralph.”
Ralph tried to look at all three men at once. “Shouldn’t we call the police?”
“We are the police, Ralph,” said Buck while he continued to watch the immediate area. “Well, sort of, but a better, more intelligent, handsome version--”
“I thought you were from a secret government agency?”
Josiah ignored Ralph and spoke to Ezra, “You sure? It might be nothing.”
Josiah saw the grimace on Ezra’s features when Ezra leaned forward and using his left hand, removed his gun from the holster clipped to his belt. He knew Ezra was ambidextrous, but he’d never seen Ezra hold a gun in his left hand. It was a remarkable but uncomfortable sight.
“Can’t take that chance, Josiah.”
“What a day it’s turned out to be, huh?”
Ezra, his skin pale and fine lines of pain around his green eyes, smiled and said, “Go. We’ll be fine.”
“You can do this?” Josiah asked Ezra.
Ezra nodded in return. “A bit of pain, a bit of nausea, it’s not like I’m dying.”
After removing his own weapon, Josiah nodded and opened the car door. He stepped out and raised his gun arm, his left arm supporting the right. Buck quickly followed him out of the SUV, raising his own gun in front of him and moving to left. Josiah moved to his right, keeping his body at an angle to make himself a smaller target. He refused to look back over his shoulder to make sure Ezra was okay. He trusted Ezra, knowing that Ezra would work through the pain and nausea to do whatever it took to protect Ralph, even give his own life.
Josiah continued to move to the right, side stepping around the last pump. He stopped when he reached the front of the Ford, his left side so close to the vehicle, that he could feel the heat of its engine. It was obvious to Josiah that the driver had left the engine running and the door open so he could make a quick getaway. The driver was robbing the convenience store – it was the only explanation.
Seeing Buck out of the corner of his eye, Josiah used his left hand to indicate they both move forward toward the store at the same time. Buck, who stood beside the trunk of the Ford, acknowledge Josiah’s hand signal with one of his own.
Just as Josiah was about to step forward, he saw a flash of movement in the convenience store and in the next few seconds, everything went to hell.
A man Josiah recognized as the driver of the Ford ran from the convenience store, a handful of cash in his left hand and in his right hand a .357 magnum, the gun raised in front of him as he made his way to his car.
Josiah stretched to his full height with his body turned sideways and yelled, “ATF! Stop where you are and put your gun down!” He felt stupid saying it because he didn’t expect the man to stop or put his gun down. There was too much fear and desperation on the man’s face. Josiah knew in an instant that the man was going to pull the trigger.
The driver, later identified as John Bellow, a known drug addict, froze at the sight of two men pointing their guns at him. Bellow panicked and without aiming, fired his gun. All it took was one shot.
Josiah, his training keeping him calm, fired his weapon at the same time as Bellow and Buck, his bullet striking Bellow on the left side of chest, killing him almost instantly. Buck’s bullet entered Bellow’s chest one inch to the left of Josiah’s.
Josiah watched as Bellow dropped to the ground, his gun falling from slack fingers. With his own gun still raised, Josiah quickly moved forward. Buck joined him, standing watch over Bellow while Josiah kicked the .357 to the side out of reach of the dying man’s fingers. Josiah then knelt down and pressed his fingers against Bellow’s neck, searching for a pulse he didn’t expect to find but had to be sure. He was right. There wasn’t a pulse.
“Chris isn’t going to be happy,” said Buck as he stepped back.
Josiah nodded in understanding, stood up and turned around. His intention was to call out to Ezra, to let him know things were okay.
What he saw scared the crap out of him. It was something he would never forget.
“Buck...” Josiah whispered before yelling, “Ezra!”
==========================================
When Josiah and Buck moved away from the SUV, Ezra twisted his body around, reached into the back with his right arm, grabbed Ralph by the sleeve of his jacket and pulled him down onto the seat. The pain and nausea Ezra felt rose to a new level. He ignored it and told Ralph to stay down out of sight. He then let go of Ralph, expecting the man to have enough common sense to stay put.
Ezra watched the scene unfold in front of him, confident that Josiah and Buck could handle the situation.
“Stay down, Ralph,” said Ezra.
At the sound of Josiah’s voice, Ralph became curious, too curious. The twenty-three year old lifted his upper body off the back seat, high enough to look out the window. Why? Ezra would never know.
Ezra reached forward to pull Ralph back down onto the seat, but before he could, the bullet fired from the .357 punched a hole through the passenger window before blowing away the right side of Ralph’s skull.
Ezra jerked back in surprise when blood and brain matter splattered against his face. He blinked and tried to wipe the blood from his eyes.
“Ralph,” Ezra dropped his gun onto the driver’s seat, got up on his knees and struggled to get into the back of the SUV. He only managed to get his head and shoulders between the seats, something wouldn’t let him go any further. “Ralph!”
Ralph lay on the back seat, his body still and his blue eyes lacking the life that had filled them only moments earlier.
Ezra let his head fall, his chin touching his chest, closed his eyes and screamed in frustration through clenched teeth. He then took a deep breath and opened his eyes, hoping that he was wrong, hoping that Ralph was still sitting in the back seat, looking like George Clooney, and wearing that stupid smile on his face and the ridiculous hat on his head.
Ralph still stared back at Ezra with lifeless eyes.
Ezra gently touched the left side of Ralph’s face and then pulled the tin foil hat from Ralph’s skull. “I’m sorry, Ralph. I’m so sorry.”
A bright, almost blinding light filled the SUV and a vibrating humming sound ripped through Ezra’s skull. Ezra lifted his hand in an attempt to block out the light, and watched through veiled fingers as Ralph’s body filled with life, his body twitching, his eyes blinking and focusing on the man in front of him before filling with fear.
Ralph screamed.
Ezra watched, as first Ralph and then the light disappeared. Ezra jumped back in fear, his back hitting the dashboard. He began to struggle to open the car door, panicking when it took too long. When he did get it open, he turned, falling out of the car and landing on his hands and knees. He didn’t feel the pain in his right arm strengthen; he’d stopped feeling the pain and nausea as soon as the bullet had taken Ralph’s life. Ralph was dead. Pushing himself up onto shaking legs, Ezra stumbled away from the car, his left arm outstretched to keep his balance. It didn’t work. He fell forward. He then refused to move, his eyes closed, and his body struggling to breathe through the panic that had a tight grip on his chest.
Three seconds later and he had to look. Ezra opened his eyes, pushed himself on to his back and looked up. The disc shaped UFO seemed to hover in the clear blue sky before speeding off into the distance, toward the setting sun, disappearing from sight a few seconds later.
When he couldn’t think of anything else to say, Ezra said, “Fuck me.”
==========================================
Josiah felt the relief flow from his body when he saw Ezra; the undercover agent was okay.
“Buck,” said Josiah, “go inside and check on the clerk.”
Buck couldn’t move. He stood where he was, staring first at the car, then at Ezra who was stumbling away from the vehicle. Buck clenched his left fist so tight, the nails dug into the flesh of his palm and he held onto his Glock with a grip so fierce, his knuckles had turned white. “Did we just see...”
“Check on the clerk and anyone else who might be in there,” Josiah grabbed Buck’s right arm, turned him away from the sight in front of them and pushed him toward the entrance to the convenience store. “Make sure they’re alright.”
Buck nodded, and then slowly walked away. He turned his head to look over his shoulder, past the Ford and the gas pumps, and watched Ezra who had stopped and was now lying on his back looking up at the sky. Buck didn’t want to, but he found himself looking up. He caught a glimpse of the UFO before it sped off at what seemed – probably to Buck – like the speed of light. Buck stumbled, his feet clumsy from shock.
“What--”
“Buck!” Josiah snapped at him.
“Uh, yeah, the clerk,” said Buck before gathering his wits and his courage and rushing into the store.
Josiah took a slow deep breath and released it, all in an attempt to calm his racing heart. He’d seen the light, heard the noise and then in an instant both things had disappeared. He had looked up, and then quickly looked away, not wanting to believe what he had seen. His eyes took in Ezra’s still form, finally sending his own body into movement, and pushing all other thoughts from his mind, he decided to concentrate on the Southerner. After replacing his gun back in its holster, he moved quickly toward Ezra. He refused to look at the SUV as he passed it, common sense telling him that Ralph wasn’t in it. If he were, Ezra would still be in the car with him. Josiah kept his gaze on Ezra’s pale face and as he got closer, he could see the unfamiliar expression of fear.
When Josiah reached Ezra, he grabbed Ezra by the shirt lapels, pulled him to his feet and practically dragged the younger man toward one of the gas pumps where he forced Ezra to sit down. Josiah knelt down in front of Ezra and when he saw the blood, he took Ezra’s jaw in a firm but gentle grip and turned Ezra’s head to the side so he could search for the source of blood and...
Josiah knew what it was, he’d seen it before, on more than one occasion; he just didn’t want to say it aloud.
“Ezra? Is this Ralph’s blood?” Josiah refused to let go of Ezra’s jaw. He didn’t care if his touch made Ezra uncomfortable.
“Yes.”
“Is he dead?”
Ezra pulled away from Josiah, drew his knees toward his chest and laid his forehead against his knees, his right arm, still covered in hives lay beside him.
“Ezra?”
Josiah understood and he wasn’t going to force Ezra to say any more. They had plenty of time and each of them needed that time to gain back the control they had lost. It wasn’t something they had seen before; alien abductions didn’t happen every day. He sat down next to Ezra and placed his left hand against the back of Ezra’s neck, squeezing it in support. Josiah didn’t remove his hand, instead keeping it there, squeezing gently every few seconds. As he did this, Josiah allowed himself to look at the SUV. He saw Buck standing next to it, staring in through the passenger window.
“Buck?”
Buck shook his head as he walked toward Josiah and Ezra, stopping in front of them. “Clerk’s dead, there’s no one else in there.” Buck sat down on the other side of Ezra, patted the Southerner’s shoulder, leaving it there for a few seconds, and said, “There’s blood and ... it’s all over the back seat, the passenger seat and window. Ralph’s tin foil hat is in there, but Ralph isn’t.”
“Ralph’s gone,” Josiah explained as he removed his cell phone from an inside pocket of his coat. “They took him.”
Josiah could feel the tremors gathering in his own body, just as he could feel them flowing through Ezra’s thin frame. He was sure Buck would also be trembling; it was shock. “I’ll call Denver PD and then Chris ... let him know we’re going to be late.”
Buck frowned, “You’re not going to tell him about the,” he pointed upward, “you-know-what over the phone are you?”
“No,” Josiah tried to smile, “it would be best if we explained that one in person.”
“He’s not going to believe us,” said Buck. “No one’s going to believe us.”
Josiah looked away, toward the SUV and spoke into the phone, first to the Denver PD and then Chris Larabee. It took him less than ten minutes. By then he had managed to gain some control of his emotions. “Buck, why don’t you go into the store and see if you can find anything for Ezra.”
“Chris wasn’t happy?”
“Go and find something for Ezra’s arm and something to clean the blood off his face.”
“Sure.” Buck placed his hands on his knees and pushed himself upright. He looked down at Ezra before walking away, muttering to himself about aliens and looney bins.
Ezra lifted his head but refused to look at Josiah. “I thought he was dead.”
Josiah squeezed Ezra’s neck to let him know that he was there, that he would listen without judging him.
“Half of his head was gone, Josiah. Ralph was dead. I was sure of it,” said Ezra. “I took that tin hat off.”
“It’s okay, Ezra. You didn’t know, we didn’t know.”
“When that light shone on him, he...”
“He what, Ezra?” Josiah wanted Ezra to look at him, but Ezra continued to stare at the SUV.
“Nothing,” Ezra shook his head. “He was dead. I took his hat off.”
Josiah thought it would be best to change the subject. “How are you feeling? Still feel sick?”
Ezra, with a frown marring his features, finally looked at Josiah. “I think there are more important things than me feeling sick, Josiah.”
“Yes there is, but there’s nothing we can do about them right now.”
“How am I going to tell Mrs. Watermaker?” Ezra looked back at the SUV. “How am I going to tell her that I didn’t protect her son?”
“We’ll tell her together, Ezra.”
Josiah felt Ezra’s body go stiff, and wondering what had caused the reaction he looked at the SUV.
Nine brightly colored wasps sat on the bonnet of the SUV and they all seemed to be directing their attention toward the same object – Ezra Standish.
Epilogue
In the year 2042, aliens disguised as brightly colored wasps, made a second attempt to invade a small planet called Earth.
They failed.
Again.
Part One | Part Two
Master Fan Fiction List
Rating: PG
Fandom: The Magnificent Seven
Category: ATF
Main Characters: Ezra and Buck and Josiah
Disclaimers: The guys are owned by CBS, MGM, Trilogy Entertainment Group, and The Mirisch Corp.
Notes: My second story for the
10_hurt_comfort challenge. The original table can be found here. Table: Injuries
Prompt: No. 6 – insect bite
Summary: While Josiah, Buck and Ezra escort an unstable witness into Denver, Ezra is stung by a wasp
Spoilers: None
Status: Complete
Part Two
It felt like someone had poured gasoline over his arm, from fingertips to elbow, and then set it alight. His flesh burned, and his skin itched. Ezra wanted to scratch his arm but the thought of touching the inflamed skin repulsed him. He clenched his teeth against the pain, and forced his breath out between tight thin lips. His stomach felt as though it had become part of a tree in a storm, twisting, lifting, falling and swaying from side to side. His head, aching still, seemed to be moving in time with his stomach. If he sat up now, or even stood up, he would faint. Ezra was sure of it.
All because of a damn wasp sting.
“No, he hasn’t got a fever.”
Ezra felt someone’s hand on his forehead, and then on his cheek. He didn’t open his eyes to look. He was too busy concentrating on trying to control his stomach. If he did throw up again, it was going to be in the car. There would be vomit everywhere, on his trousers, on his shoes and the smell... Ezra closed his eyes even tighter against the thought when his stomach lifted and fell, a small portion of it pooling in his throat. He swallowed. It didn’t help. Ezra pushed himself even closer to the door, his knees pressing painfully against the door handle, the right side of his forehead against the window frame and the wind blowing in his face. The scenery passed by unnoticed.
“Ezra?”
“What?” He didn’t release his jaw when he spoke, keeping it clenched so tightly that it began to ache almost as much as his head.
“Nathan wants to know if you’re breathing okay.” Buck was leaning forward between the two front seats. His left arm held onto Ezra’s seat, his right held a cell phone against his ear. “I can’t tell because you’ve got yourself all curled up against the door.”
Ezra opened his mouth and took in a deep breath, held it and then let it out, testing and searching for any indication that he was having difficulty breathing. At the moment his breathing seemed to be fine, of course that didn’t mean that the natural ease of breathing would stay that way. He lifted his head and nodded yes, and then he groaned when his brain felt like it had bounced against his skull. He was going to be sick again.
“He says he’s breathing okay, Nathan.”
A few seconds later, Buck asked, “Do you still feel sick?”
Ezra actually growled at Buck.
“Yeah, Nathan, he’s still feeling sick.” Buck listened for a couple of minutes and then snapped his cell phone shut. Staying where he was, he said, “Nathan said you’ll be fine. Wasp stings are nasty but you’ll live, as long as you’re not allergic, anaphylactic shock allergic that is. Said all you need is some antihistamines, and you’ll feel a lot better.”
Ezra, deciding that Nathan had to be wrong, because he sure as hell didn’t feel like he was going to live for much longer, opened his eyes, turned his head carefully and glared at Buck.
Buck smiled back, “Says that the sting will make you feel sick and that the movement of the car would only make it a lot worse. But there’s nothing we can do about that, so the best thing for you to do, would be to sit up and look straight ahead.”
“Really,” said Ezra before turning away again. He laid his head back down on the window frame and closed his eyes. He hoped that the nausea he was feeling would kill itself sometime in the immediate future.
“Hey, Mr. Wilmington, that’s what I said,” Ralph spoke from the back seat as he tapped Buck’s shoulder. “I just hope Mr. Yohonas didn’t add anything to the wasp venom. They can do that you know.”
Ezra rolled his eyes under their lids. He knew Ralph meant well, that’s why he didn’t tell him to shut the fuck up.
Forty minutes later and still more than three hours from Denver, Ezra had finally fallen into a restless sleep. Every few minutes, Josiah would take his eyes away from the road to look at him. Nathan had told Buck that Ezra would be fine but Ezra didn’t look fine, not to Josiah. He thought Ezra looked too pale, his features covered in sweat and there was a permanent grimace on his face. Even in his sleep, Ezra was still feeling the pain of the wasp sting.
The day was turning sour, especially for Ezra. Josiah sighed, and looked back to the road.
He saw a sign up ahead warning him that he was about to pass a Valero Gas Station. Josiah smiled. They all needed a break, a moment to stretch their legs and maybe, just maybe the Valero convenience store would have something for Ezra. Something that would make the remaining three-hour road trip easier on Ezra and his stomach. Josiah slowed down, almost coming to a stop before pulling into the gas station. He drove slowly and carefully over a speed hump but the passengers still bounced in their seats and Ezra jerked awake, a gasp of pain escaping from the Southerner’s clenched lips.
“Sorry, Ezra,” said Josiah. “Thought it would be a good idea to stop for a while. We all need a break, and it’ll give your stomach a chance to settle.”
Ezra wrapped his left arm around his stomach and nodded at both the apology and the idea.
Josiah brought the SUV to a stop next to a gas pump and couldn’t help but notice the Ford Falcon Cobra parked on the other side of the pump, the driver’s door open and the engine still running. He narrowed his eyes at the sight; something was wrong.
“Buck,” said Josiah.
“I see it,” answered Buck as he pulled the Glock from his holster.
Ralph looked down at the gun now resting against Buck’s thigh. “It’s the aliens, isn’t it? They’re here aren’t they? How did they find me? You promised me you wouldn’t let them take me!” Ralph shifted in his seat and looked in the same direction as everyone else. “The Pugamitesens don’t drive cars.”
Josiah, knowing that Buck would be watching the convenience store, looked at Ezra who was looking past him toward the yellow Ford. Before Josiah could say anything, Ezra said, “Go, I’ll keep an eye on Ralph.”
Ralph tried to look at all three men at once. “Shouldn’t we call the police?”
“We are the police, Ralph,” said Buck while he continued to watch the immediate area. “Well, sort of, but a better, more intelligent, handsome version--”
“I thought you were from a secret government agency?”
Josiah ignored Ralph and spoke to Ezra, “You sure? It might be nothing.”
Josiah saw the grimace on Ezra’s features when Ezra leaned forward and using his left hand, removed his gun from the holster clipped to his belt. He knew Ezra was ambidextrous, but he’d never seen Ezra hold a gun in his left hand. It was a remarkable but uncomfortable sight.
“Can’t take that chance, Josiah.”
“What a day it’s turned out to be, huh?”
Ezra, his skin pale and fine lines of pain around his green eyes, smiled and said, “Go. We’ll be fine.”
“You can do this?” Josiah asked Ezra.
Ezra nodded in return. “A bit of pain, a bit of nausea, it’s not like I’m dying.”
After removing his own weapon, Josiah nodded and opened the car door. He stepped out and raised his gun arm, his left arm supporting the right. Buck quickly followed him out of the SUV, raising his own gun in front of him and moving to left. Josiah moved to his right, keeping his body at an angle to make himself a smaller target. He refused to look back over his shoulder to make sure Ezra was okay. He trusted Ezra, knowing that Ezra would work through the pain and nausea to do whatever it took to protect Ralph, even give his own life.
Josiah continued to move to the right, side stepping around the last pump. He stopped when he reached the front of the Ford, his left side so close to the vehicle, that he could feel the heat of its engine. It was obvious to Josiah that the driver had left the engine running and the door open so he could make a quick getaway. The driver was robbing the convenience store – it was the only explanation.
Seeing Buck out of the corner of his eye, Josiah used his left hand to indicate they both move forward toward the store at the same time. Buck, who stood beside the trunk of the Ford, acknowledge Josiah’s hand signal with one of his own.
Just as Josiah was about to step forward, he saw a flash of movement in the convenience store and in the next few seconds, everything went to hell.
A man Josiah recognized as the driver of the Ford ran from the convenience store, a handful of cash in his left hand and in his right hand a .357 magnum, the gun raised in front of him as he made his way to his car.
Josiah stretched to his full height with his body turned sideways and yelled, “ATF! Stop where you are and put your gun down!” He felt stupid saying it because he didn’t expect the man to stop or put his gun down. There was too much fear and desperation on the man’s face. Josiah knew in an instant that the man was going to pull the trigger.
The driver, later identified as John Bellow, a known drug addict, froze at the sight of two men pointing their guns at him. Bellow panicked and without aiming, fired his gun. All it took was one shot.
Josiah, his training keeping him calm, fired his weapon at the same time as Bellow and Buck, his bullet striking Bellow on the left side of chest, killing him almost instantly. Buck’s bullet entered Bellow’s chest one inch to the left of Josiah’s.
Josiah watched as Bellow dropped to the ground, his gun falling from slack fingers. With his own gun still raised, Josiah quickly moved forward. Buck joined him, standing watch over Bellow while Josiah kicked the .357 to the side out of reach of the dying man’s fingers. Josiah then knelt down and pressed his fingers against Bellow’s neck, searching for a pulse he didn’t expect to find but had to be sure. He was right. There wasn’t a pulse.
“Chris isn’t going to be happy,” said Buck as he stepped back.
Josiah nodded in understanding, stood up and turned around. His intention was to call out to Ezra, to let him know things were okay.
What he saw scared the crap out of him. It was something he would never forget.
“Buck...” Josiah whispered before yelling, “Ezra!”
When Josiah and Buck moved away from the SUV, Ezra twisted his body around, reached into the back with his right arm, grabbed Ralph by the sleeve of his jacket and pulled him down onto the seat. The pain and nausea Ezra felt rose to a new level. He ignored it and told Ralph to stay down out of sight. He then let go of Ralph, expecting the man to have enough common sense to stay put.
Ezra watched the scene unfold in front of him, confident that Josiah and Buck could handle the situation.
“Stay down, Ralph,” said Ezra.
At the sound of Josiah’s voice, Ralph became curious, too curious. The twenty-three year old lifted his upper body off the back seat, high enough to look out the window. Why? Ezra would never know.
Ezra reached forward to pull Ralph back down onto the seat, but before he could, the bullet fired from the .357 punched a hole through the passenger window before blowing away the right side of Ralph’s skull.
Ezra jerked back in surprise when blood and brain matter splattered against his face. He blinked and tried to wipe the blood from his eyes.
“Ralph,” Ezra dropped his gun onto the driver’s seat, got up on his knees and struggled to get into the back of the SUV. He only managed to get his head and shoulders between the seats, something wouldn’t let him go any further. “Ralph!”
Ralph lay on the back seat, his body still and his blue eyes lacking the life that had filled them only moments earlier.
Ezra let his head fall, his chin touching his chest, closed his eyes and screamed in frustration through clenched teeth. He then took a deep breath and opened his eyes, hoping that he was wrong, hoping that Ralph was still sitting in the back seat, looking like George Clooney, and wearing that stupid smile on his face and the ridiculous hat on his head.
Ralph still stared back at Ezra with lifeless eyes.
Ezra gently touched the left side of Ralph’s face and then pulled the tin foil hat from Ralph’s skull. “I’m sorry, Ralph. I’m so sorry.”
A bright, almost blinding light filled the SUV and a vibrating humming sound ripped through Ezra’s skull. Ezra lifted his hand in an attempt to block out the light, and watched through veiled fingers as Ralph’s body filled with life, his body twitching, his eyes blinking and focusing on the man in front of him before filling with fear.
Ralph screamed.
Ezra watched, as first Ralph and then the light disappeared. Ezra jumped back in fear, his back hitting the dashboard. He began to struggle to open the car door, panicking when it took too long. When he did get it open, he turned, falling out of the car and landing on his hands and knees. He didn’t feel the pain in his right arm strengthen; he’d stopped feeling the pain and nausea as soon as the bullet had taken Ralph’s life. Ralph was dead. Pushing himself up onto shaking legs, Ezra stumbled away from the car, his left arm outstretched to keep his balance. It didn’t work. He fell forward. He then refused to move, his eyes closed, and his body struggling to breathe through the panic that had a tight grip on his chest.
Three seconds later and he had to look. Ezra opened his eyes, pushed himself on to his back and looked up. The disc shaped UFO seemed to hover in the clear blue sky before speeding off into the distance, toward the setting sun, disappearing from sight a few seconds later.
When he couldn’t think of anything else to say, Ezra said, “Fuck me.”
Josiah felt the relief flow from his body when he saw Ezra; the undercover agent was okay.
“Buck,” said Josiah, “go inside and check on the clerk.”
Buck couldn’t move. He stood where he was, staring first at the car, then at Ezra who was stumbling away from the vehicle. Buck clenched his left fist so tight, the nails dug into the flesh of his palm and he held onto his Glock with a grip so fierce, his knuckles had turned white. “Did we just see...”
“Check on the clerk and anyone else who might be in there,” Josiah grabbed Buck’s right arm, turned him away from the sight in front of them and pushed him toward the entrance to the convenience store. “Make sure they’re alright.”
Buck nodded, and then slowly walked away. He turned his head to look over his shoulder, past the Ford and the gas pumps, and watched Ezra who had stopped and was now lying on his back looking up at the sky. Buck didn’t want to, but he found himself looking up. He caught a glimpse of the UFO before it sped off at what seemed – probably to Buck – like the speed of light. Buck stumbled, his feet clumsy from shock.
“What--”
“Buck!” Josiah snapped at him.
“Uh, yeah, the clerk,” said Buck before gathering his wits and his courage and rushing into the store.
Josiah took a slow deep breath and released it, all in an attempt to calm his racing heart. He’d seen the light, heard the noise and then in an instant both things had disappeared. He had looked up, and then quickly looked away, not wanting to believe what he had seen. His eyes took in Ezra’s still form, finally sending his own body into movement, and pushing all other thoughts from his mind, he decided to concentrate on the Southerner. After replacing his gun back in its holster, he moved quickly toward Ezra. He refused to look at the SUV as he passed it, common sense telling him that Ralph wasn’t in it. If he were, Ezra would still be in the car with him. Josiah kept his gaze on Ezra’s pale face and as he got closer, he could see the unfamiliar expression of fear.
When Josiah reached Ezra, he grabbed Ezra by the shirt lapels, pulled him to his feet and practically dragged the younger man toward one of the gas pumps where he forced Ezra to sit down. Josiah knelt down in front of Ezra and when he saw the blood, he took Ezra’s jaw in a firm but gentle grip and turned Ezra’s head to the side so he could search for the source of blood and...
Josiah knew what it was, he’d seen it before, on more than one occasion; he just didn’t want to say it aloud.
“Ezra? Is this Ralph’s blood?” Josiah refused to let go of Ezra’s jaw. He didn’t care if his touch made Ezra uncomfortable.
“Yes.”
“Is he dead?”
Ezra pulled away from Josiah, drew his knees toward his chest and laid his forehead against his knees, his right arm, still covered in hives lay beside him.
“Ezra?”
Josiah understood and he wasn’t going to force Ezra to say any more. They had plenty of time and each of them needed that time to gain back the control they had lost. It wasn’t something they had seen before; alien abductions didn’t happen every day. He sat down next to Ezra and placed his left hand against the back of Ezra’s neck, squeezing it in support. Josiah didn’t remove his hand, instead keeping it there, squeezing gently every few seconds. As he did this, Josiah allowed himself to look at the SUV. He saw Buck standing next to it, staring in through the passenger window.
“Buck?”
Buck shook his head as he walked toward Josiah and Ezra, stopping in front of them. “Clerk’s dead, there’s no one else in there.” Buck sat down on the other side of Ezra, patted the Southerner’s shoulder, leaving it there for a few seconds, and said, “There’s blood and ... it’s all over the back seat, the passenger seat and window. Ralph’s tin foil hat is in there, but Ralph isn’t.”
“Ralph’s gone,” Josiah explained as he removed his cell phone from an inside pocket of his coat. “They took him.”
Josiah could feel the tremors gathering in his own body, just as he could feel them flowing through Ezra’s thin frame. He was sure Buck would also be trembling; it was shock. “I’ll call Denver PD and then Chris ... let him know we’re going to be late.”
Buck frowned, “You’re not going to tell him about the,” he pointed upward, “you-know-what over the phone are you?”
“No,” Josiah tried to smile, “it would be best if we explained that one in person.”
“He’s not going to believe us,” said Buck. “No one’s going to believe us.”
Josiah looked away, toward the SUV and spoke into the phone, first to the Denver PD and then Chris Larabee. It took him less than ten minutes. By then he had managed to gain some control of his emotions. “Buck, why don’t you go into the store and see if you can find anything for Ezra.”
“Chris wasn’t happy?”
“Go and find something for Ezra’s arm and something to clean the blood off his face.”
“Sure.” Buck placed his hands on his knees and pushed himself upright. He looked down at Ezra before walking away, muttering to himself about aliens and looney bins.
Ezra lifted his head but refused to look at Josiah. “I thought he was dead.”
Josiah squeezed Ezra’s neck to let him know that he was there, that he would listen without judging him.
“Half of his head was gone, Josiah. Ralph was dead. I was sure of it,” said Ezra. “I took that tin hat off.”
“It’s okay, Ezra. You didn’t know, we didn’t know.”
“When that light shone on him, he...”
“He what, Ezra?” Josiah wanted Ezra to look at him, but Ezra continued to stare at the SUV.
“Nothing,” Ezra shook his head. “He was dead. I took his hat off.”
Josiah thought it would be best to change the subject. “How are you feeling? Still feel sick?”
Ezra, with a frown marring his features, finally looked at Josiah. “I think there are more important things than me feeling sick, Josiah.”
“Yes there is, but there’s nothing we can do about them right now.”
“How am I going to tell Mrs. Watermaker?” Ezra looked back at the SUV. “How am I going to tell her that I didn’t protect her son?”
“We’ll tell her together, Ezra.”
Josiah felt Ezra’s body go stiff, and wondering what had caused the reaction he looked at the SUV.
Nine brightly colored wasps sat on the bonnet of the SUV and they all seemed to be directing their attention toward the same object – Ezra Standish.
Epilogue
In the year 2042, aliens disguised as brightly colored wasps, made a second attempt to invade a small planet called Earth.
They failed.
Again.
Part One | Part Two
Master Fan Fiction List