Independence Day: Silent Zone (24 page)

"Maybe the
chupacabras
ate them," Okun teased.

"You laugh
now," Pedro
said, "but just wait till I you get out there. It's not natural.
Nothing
lives out there, not even flies." The word
chupacabra
was usually
translated as "goat sucker." The legend of these feral four-legged
creatures was the State of Chihuahua's answer to the Loch Ness monster.
"They live off the blood of other animals." Pedro went on.
"That's why no animals will go into the Zone. Some people say they're
like
the pets of
los extranjeros,
the ones who came from
outer space."

All heads
turned toward the boy, who
went on.

"A long time
ago, they say a
spaceship crashed down there by Guerrero, about a hundred miles south
of here,
and some of the Indians took care of the spacemen. They lived with the
Indians
for about ten years, and the
chupas
were their pets.
But when the
spacemen died, the
chupas
got lonely for their
masters and ran away.
Then they came to live in the Zone, and if any animals go in there,
they kill
them and suck their blood."

Okun's mind
was already on other
matters. "How much farther?"

"Keep going,
it's still
far." A few minutes later, Pedro was leaning forward, looking for
something in the cliffs. "There's one." He pointed. "That's one
of the caves."

When the scientists
saw what the kid was pointing at, their jaws dropped. Each time Pedro
had
mentioned caves, they had pictured tunnels leading into the ground. But
now
they saw what he was talking about. High above the ground they saw a
gigantic
recess scooped out of the face of the cliff, two hundred feet across
and fifty
feet tall. Small adobe houses were built inside, some of them perched
at the
very edge. It was a very small town constructed inside the giant
cubbyhole
three stories above the ground. Without a word, they all piled out of
the car
for a closer look. Even though they were racing against time, this
place
deserved a quick tour. They had all arrived at the obvious conclusion:
This
cliff dwelling is large enough to hold one of the alien ships.

Getting up
to the cave involved
negotiating a series of stone stairs and rickety wooden ladders, which
the
older men did surprisingly well. They wandered deeper under the stone
ceiling
toward the nether reaches of the cave. It was deep enough to hold two
vehicles
like the one at Area 51. Crumbling mud-and-stone walls that showed a
string of
single-room apartments had been built against the interior walls.
Several of
the walls at the back still retained their curiously shaped, windowlike
doorways. The ceilings were blackened in several places with the soot
of
ancient fires. Broken bottles and crushed beer cans had been scattered
around
by the local kids, who used the prehistoric cliff dwelling as a modern
party
spot.

Pedro led
the men toward the edge
and pointed out a narrow stone trail cut into the cliff. He called it
the back
door, and explained that most of the caves had such entrances. "If
somebody tried to attack them, the Mogollon pulled up the ladders. If
somebody
tried to come in on one of these trails, you could knock them off with
a big
stick."

Before climbing
down, the men stood at the edge of the cliff, feeling the warm wind
blowing
straight up its face, and admired the spectacular view. The open sweep
of the land
gave way to the infinite desert stretching out to the curve of the
earth. It
was a beautiful morning, shirtsleeve weather and cloudless electric
blue sky.

"I can't
think of a better
place to hide a ship," Freiling commented when the boy was out of
earshot.

Back in the
car, they followed the
line of power poles, moving over the rough earth at speeds which
threatened to
snap the suspension of the heavily loaded station wagon. Pedro said
they were
getting close and turned on the radio, telling them, "When it goes out,
you know you're in la Zona." When the radio suddenly developed static,
everyone looked at one another. When it died completely, they kept
their eyes
straight ahead, scanning the hills for anything unusual.

"How big is
this area? Where
the radios won't work," Okun asked.

"Big, I
don't know."

"Have you
been to the other
side, where the radios work again?"

"Yeah, it's
over there near
Galeana. I don't know how far it is."

The men in
the backseat unfolded a
map of the area and asked him questions, trying to determine the size
of the
Silent Zone. Eventually they decided the center of it was about five
miles
ahead. After three miles, Okun slowed down and took a long look at one
of the
huge steel power poles. He switched off the car and got out, still
focused on
the Y-shaped tower. But something else caught his attention.

"Wow. Listen
to that."
They were surrounded by un ocean of soundlessness. Except for the
occasional
puff of a breeze rustling through the weeds, there was absolute
stillness.
Until that moment, Okun and the others hadn't realized how much
background
sound they'd been listening to all day: the flapping wings of birds,
things
crawling through the bushes, the buzzing of small insects. Suddenly,
each man
could hear how loud his own breathing was.

"You see?"
Pedro asked.
"That's why they call it the Silent Zone."

Okun took
out his notebook and
examined a sketch he'd made of the Y a few days after he'd first seen
it. Then
he climbed on top of some nearby rocks, He moved left, then right, then
forward, until what was in front of his eyes matched what he'd seen on
the
screen. If the pole in front of him was the one in the alien
transmission, the
ship must be somewhere very near where he was standing. He disappeared
into
some bushes growing at the base of a cliff, reemerging a few moments
later and
shaking his head.

"Let's try
the next pole."

They drove a few
hundred feet past the next pole and went through the same routine. This
time,
everyone helped scour the rocks and bushes along the base of the
cliffs. But
this proved to be impractical because it took the old men so long to
get back
to the car. It was already early afternoon, and, although no one said
anything
out loud, they all knew time was running out. Even Pedro started to
pick up the
pace. He and Okun working together could investigate one of the spots
in five
minutes. Each time they climbed back in the car, Okun stared down the
long row
of power lines, stretching off toward the vanishing point, and reminded
himself,
We have all night and tomorrow morning—be methodical,
be patient.

They came to
another set of cliffs
and found two cliff dwellings in roughly the right relationship to the
nearest
power poles. The group spent a precious hour exploring these two caves
and the
area around them. As they drove toward the next pole, Lenel brought up
the
subject of contacting Spelman.

"It's
getting late. We should
call Spelman tomorrow morning whether we find it or not. If we're right
about
all of this, there's a good possibility there will be air traffic in
this area
tomorrow night. We'll explain the whole theory and maybe convince him
we're not
crazy."

"All the
phones are dead in
town. We'll have to drive clear down to the main highway again."

"And we're
already down to half
a tank of gas."

"Maybe we
should go back into
town and figure out our next move."

Okun kicked
the dirt. He wasn't
ready to give up, but knew the men were right.

"Hey, look
up there,"
Freiling interrupted. "Look at that cactus and all the plants around
it.
Isn't that kinda fishy? All these cliffs around here are bare rock, but
there's
a bunch of plants all growing in one little area up there."

The crew walked to
the base of the cliffs and looked up. They were standing near a
twenty-foot
rock wall, which led to a steep, forty-five-degree slope, which led in
turn to
a second set of much taller vertical walls. There was something odd
about the
patch of rock Freiling had pointed out. All day, they'd been noticing
agave
plants and cacti clinging to the rocks. After establishing toeholds on
the
cliffs, the plants spread their roots over the exposed surface of the
rock. No
roots were visible on this cliff despite the number of plants. Could
there be a
hidden cave up there?

Pedro
climbed up the wall in front
of them, then walked carefully up the slope until he came to the top.
The
cliffs surrounding him formed an eerie tower of ribbed rock bleached
pale
yellow by the elements. Great black streaks ran down them, as if
someone had
poured buckets of tar over the sides.

Okun went
back to the car, retrieved
a tire iron and a candle, then scrambled up the hill himself. When he
reached
the narrow shelf of flat rock at the base of the upper cliffs, he
noticed a
couple of strange things. The area Freiling had pointed to was smooth.
It
didn't match the wavy rocks of the neighboring cliffs. Also, there were
long,
thin cracks running through it. They looked like the ones he'd seen in
plaster
walls after quakes in Los Angeles.

He stepped back,
spotted a squarish hole near his feet, and poked the tire iron into it.
He
couldn't find the back of the opening. He lay down and put his face up
to the
hole, but could see nothing. Running his hands over the surface of the
cliff,
he became convinced it was a wall built to conceal one of the caves. He
picked
up the tire iron and used the wedge end to begin chipping away at the
face of
the hillside.

The surface
was hard, but it wasn't
the solid boulder it appeared to be. Handfulls of sand and small stones
rolled
away down the slope behind him. When one of his strokes caused a dull
sound, he
brushed away the last pieces of debris. Something in the hole was made
of soft,
patterned material. On closer inspection, it turned out to be dried
grass woven
to form a kind of mat. He pushed on it and felt it give.
Strange.
He
slashed at the matting with his tire iron and succeeded in breaking
through it.
He started fumbling with one of the candles to look inside, but before
he could
light it, he knew he had found what he was looking for. Wafting out of
the hole
came a distinctive aroma, something like ammonia.

"We got it.
It's here!" he yelled down the cliff. "I can smell the pod chairs
from here." He lit a candle and inserted it through the hole. The cave
inside was huge, narrower than the first cave but much deeper. And
sitting in
the middle of the space, about twenty paces from him, was a dusty alien
spacecraft. "Gotcha, baby," he told the ship. "I can't believe I
finally found you!" He backed out of the hole and started jumping
around,
waving his arms in the air screaming, "It's here. It's here. I can see
it.
We did it!" In his excitement, he jumped too high and the gravel
underfoot
gave way. He crashed to his back, then started sliding down the slope.
He was
headed for a two-story plunge to the rocks below, but reached out at
the last
second and latched on to one of the bushes, his body doing a 180-degree
flip.
Head dangling over the edge, he smiled at the upside-down scientists.
"There's a ship in there. Identical to the one we've got. I think it's
time to call in the Marines."

"Young man,
get away from that
opening," Cibatutto cried out. Pedro had come hack across the huge
stone
shelf to see what all the excitement was about. Noticing the hole Okun
had
chipped into the wall, he started poking around it, curious.

"Hey, Pedro,
get away from
there."

"What's in
there?"

"Nothing,
please don't go near
it."

"Why not? I
wanna see it."

Okun was too
far down the slippery
slope to get there in time. He knew if Pedro saw the spaceship, it
would go
hard on him. Desperate, Okun yelled as loud as he could.
"Chupacabra!"
The kid froze in his tracks. "We're not really
looking for iron. We're looking for the goat sucker, and this is his
home.
Don't let him pull you inside!" Suddenly the boy couldn't be far enough
away from the hole. He retreated along the narrow shelf at the base of
the
upper cliffs until he was around a corner.

Thirty
minutes later, the five of
them were standing around the car again. Pedro had found two trails
running
along the edge of the cliff. One of them was a switchback leading up to
the top
of the bluffs, while the other one came out of the hills not far from
where the
car was parked.

It was time
to split up. Okun and
Lenel would stay and investigate the ship while Cibatutto and Freiling
took the
kid to find the nearest phone.

"Time is of
the essence,"
Cibatutto observed. "We've only got about twenty-four hours until our
friends show up." So off they sped to find the nearest phone.

"Let's hurry
up and get inside
before dark."

Okun helped
Lenel, unsteady, climb
the narrow trail. They came out onto the great stone shelf outside of
the
hidden cave. Lenel sat down and watched the sun sink toward the horizon
as Okun
used the tire iron and his bare hands to cut a doorway into the cave.

Radecker
had been so busy setting up his dragnet
and feeling sorry for himself, he didn't get around to questioning the
chauffeur until the next morning. The man had spent the night sleeping
on a
bench at the police station. He repeated everything that had been said
in the
car, including a verbatim account of Freiling's infernal jabbering.