ID 75056156 © Mik3812345 | Dreamstime.com
“Pops, will you slow down? Ain’t we suppose to be running in the other direction?” The thirty-five year old man scrambled over fallen pine trees.
At the crest of the impact crater, his gray-haired father bellycrawled the final few feet, his deer bow in hand. Pye, Junior’s teenage daughter, right beside him. Nuts, the two of them. And him, the tree tying them together following in their wake. He crouched crawled to their location.
Looking down in to the cleared sand of the pine barrens, he saw a circular UFO with the disc vertical and the half the circumference buried deep. Junior quiet-whistled against his teeth, “Someone is having a very bad day.”
“I’m not sure,” Pye squinted through the early mist rising out of the aquifer below the pine barrens sand. “I mean if they are a spinning ship, and that is kind-of what it looked like as they streaked overhead, then the gravity would be on the outer edge, so if you were to dismount, it would be through the floor. It would make sense for flying saucers to land edge up, right?”
“Good point, girl” His father whispered.
Junior was glad all those comics and adventure books leaked something into his kid’s brain. “Still it is a crash, pretty sure.”
George grunted agreement.
“Any landing you walk away from is a good landing, isn’t that what you say Pops?” Pye asked.
“Not seeing much walking.” George observed and started to stand. “The mist has made down the walls and isn’t burning off near the hull. Whatever that material is, it took care of the heat quickly. Come on, they might need help.”
Pye bounced up, following her grandfather down the sandy sides of the crater in a sideways slide. Youthful curiosity burst the question out burning in Junior as he followed the two with the dune-sand walk he picked up during his time in Afghanistan. “What should we do if they say, ‘Take us to your leader’?”
“Well, election is next week, so I guess I’ll make introductions depending on their attitude.” George limped across the loose sand in the bottom of the crater. “If they are rude, they’ll get one. Nice, the other.” He winked at Junior. “But in the meantime, they might be in trouble. Always lead with kindness.”
“But pack heat while doing so.” The perky teenager touched the flare gun she carried beside the hunting arrows.
(words 402; first published 11/2/2024)