Visitors (4 page)

“Come back!” I shouted. “I just want to talk to you! I won’t hurt you!”

The flash of blue vanished behind a clump of tall bushes.

“Please—come back!”

I dove into the bushes. My feet tangled in a long, twisting vine.

With a cry, I fell to the ground.

My heart thudding I scrambled quickly to my feet. I searched for the eerie, blue color. Listened for footsteps.

No. The alien had disappeared.

Summer and Jeff caught up with me. “Did you see that? A flash of blue!”

They shook their heads. “We heard someone running,” Summer said. “But we didn’t see anyone.”

“But did you hear that boom?” I went on. “It sounded like thunder. And look! It’s perfectly clear tonight. There are no clouds in the sky!”

“Calm down, Ben,” Jeff said. “Maybe it was a sonic boom from one of those new jets at the military base in Roswell.”

“Maybe,” I replied. “But the flash of blue light—it’s one of the signs.”

“Signs of what?” Summer asked. “Of Ben Shipley losing his mind?”

“One of the signs of alien life,” I said. “I’m not crazy, you two. First that weird figure eight. Then the flash of blue…”

They started back toward the house. My mind spinning, I hurried to keep up with them.

Summer and Jeff didn’t say much. I could tell I was freaking them out.

I’m not losing my mind, I thought. I know I’m right.

I saw an alien tonight. It
had
to be an alien!

Summer and Jeff said good-bye and hurried home. I felt bad. They were the only two friends I had left. But I was beginning to wonder how much longer they’d put up with me.

Will was in his room, playing video games. I logged on to the computer and checked my e-mail.

For once, I had an e-mail message.

I opened it. It was from Zandor. It said:

Why is he writing to me? I wondered. Was this a mass mailing—or was he trying to contact me?

I thought about the warning signs. So far I’d seen only one—the flash of blue light.

I yawned. I was beginning to feel sleepy. I glanced at the clock.

It was almost nine-thirty. Mom and Dad weren’t home yet.

That’s strange, I thought. They said they’d be home by nine. They’re almost never late. I wonder where they went, anyway.

About an hour later, at ten-thirty, I finally heard a car pull into the driveway. I got up and glanced into Will’s room. He was asleep.

I went downstairs. Mom always had a smile for me. But now her mouth was set in a grim line. Dad
was frowning pretty intensely, too.

“Where’ve you guys been?” I asked.

“Nowhere really,” Mom said softly.

“Did you go shopping or something?” I asked.

“Ask a lot of questions—don’t you, Ben?” Dad snapped.

I shrank back. What was his problem?

I sat down on the steps and watched them as they loaded the dinner dishes into the dishwasher.

“Um—is everything okay?” I asked.

“Fine,” Dad answered through gritted teeth. “Everything’s just perfect.”

What’s up with them? I wondered. They’re acting so weird.

“Ben, do me a favor. Go to bed,” Dad barked.

“But I usually stay up until eleven,” I protested.

Mom whirled around to face me. “Don’t argue with your father.”

“Okay, okay,” I said, standing up. “I’m going to bed.”

“And no Internet surfing!” Dad said.

I stumbled up the steps and went into my room. I left the door open a crack. I was hoping to hear them say something that would tell me what the matter was. But they didn’t speak at all.

Weird. Weird. Weird.

A few minutes later, I saw Mom walk past my room. Maybe she’ll tell me what’s wrong, I thought. If I just ask her nicely enough.

I crept into the hallway. Mom wasn’t in her room.

Where did she go? I wondered.

Then I noticed that the door to the attic was open a crack.

That’s strange, I thought. Why would she go up there? Dad always kept the attic door locked. He said the floor wasn’t finished and it was dangerous to go up there.

We never use the attic. Why did Mom go up there tonight?

I opened the door and crept up the stairs. Near the top, I stopped.

Whoa. There’s a room up there, I saw. Dad lied. It’s completely furnished. And the floor isn’t unfinished. It looks perfectly solid.

Why did Dad lie? Why?

Squinting into the dim light, I spotted Mom. She was standing with her back to me. She pulled open a closet door.

Slowly…slowly…

And as the door opened, a glow of light poured out from the closet.

A blue glow.

I gasped. And stared in amazement at the eerie light pulsing out of the closet.

I saw it for only a second.

Someone behind me grabbed my shoulder, hard. Mom slammed the closet shut.

I spun around—and stared up at my dad.

“Ben, what are you doing up here?” he demanded.

“Uh…what are
you
doing up here?” I shot back.

“Nothing you’d be interested in,” Dad said sternly.

“We’re just fixing the attic up a bit,” Mom said.

“It…it was going to be a surprise for you,” Dad added.

I could tell he was lying.

Why were they both acting so strange? Why
wouldn’t they tell me the truth?

“I saw a blue light,” I said. I pointed.

Mom shook her head. “Light? I didn’t see it.”

“Must have been a reflection from the street,” Dad said. “Now, go to bed, Ben. It’s really late.”

I wanted to ask more questions. But I could see it was no use. I said good night and hurried back to my room.

I knew I wouldn’t be able to get to sleep.

I stared out my window for a long time, watching the sky.

I was dying to find out what they were doing in the attic. And I wanted to see what was inside that attic closet.

Maybe tomorrow when they’re not around, I thought.

I fell asleep at last. In my dreams I saw an army of aliens, slimy and reptilian. They were seven feet tall, walked on two legs, and were covered with wet scales. There were thousands of them, marching around and around in a figure eight.

I stood at the center of the eight, where the two loops intersected. The aliens began to march in a spiral, moving closer and closer to me….

I held up my hand. They stopped. “Do not fear me,” I said. My voice came out loud and booming. “I am your friend. Speak to me. Show me your language.”

The lead alien stepped forward. “On our planet, we greet each other this way.”

He stuck out his tongue. It was a long, slimy tongue, maybe five feet long.

He tickled me with it. Then he licked my face.

I didn’t like it. But I didn’t want to make them angry. So I said nothing.

“Now,” the alien leader said. “You must touch my hand. That means you accept our greeting.”

I reached out and touched his wet, slimy hand. It felt as if it were covered in mucus.

I shivered. It was disgusting. But I had to do it for the good of interstellar relations.

Wait a minute, I thought. My hand really
is
touching something slimy and wet.

Am I still dreaming? Am I still asleep?

I touched the slimy skin again.

Okay, I thought. I’m definitely awake.

I opened my eyes.

And started screaming.

It wasn’t a dream.

I bolted upright. I was in my room. In bed. Moonlight poured in through my window.

My hand was wrapped around a slimy creature.

With a cry, I opened my hand. The creature plopped onto the floor.

A frog.

“Whoa!” I whispered. Godzilla. My brother’s frog.

“You’re alive!” I whispered. I knew this would make Will really happy.

I reached down and gently picked up the frog. “Where have you been hiding, boy?” I climbed out of bed and started toward Will’s room.

But my foot landed on something wet.

I glanced down—and saw that I was standing on
another fat, green frog.

“Huh?” I leaped back. Stumbled into my dresser.

Two frogs stared up at me from the dresser top. Another frog hopped over my foot.

“Hey!” I turned and saw that my bed was full of frogs now. Fat, dark creatures hopping wetly over my sheets, over my pillow.

“Get out!” I cried. I swiped the two frogs off the dresser. One of them clung to my pajama sleeve.

I felt a wet, slimy frog moving up one leg. Another one clung tightly to the back of my neck.

“Help!” I screamed. “Mom! Dad!”

And as I screamed, I remembered…remembered the warning…one of Zandor’s warning signs!

Spontaneous amphibian replication
.

It was happening—right in my room!

Frogs! Dozens of frogs everywhere!

I batted one off my head. Tugged one from under my pajama sleeve.

“Mom! Dad! Hurry!”

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t take a step without squashing a frog.

Suddenly, they began moving in one direction. Toward the wall. No. Toward the window.

I gaped in amazement as they hopped over the rug, off the bed, off the furniture. They made their way to the open window. A dark, plopping stampede.

And then out the window. They poured out the
window as if swept by a wave.

My bedroom door swung open. The ceiling light flashed on.

“Mom! Dad! Look!” I cried. “Look!”

Blinking, tying their robe belts around them, they gazed around my room. Finally, Mom stared at a creature beside my foot.

“You found Godzilla!” she exclaimed. “Ben, that’s great!”

“But—but—but—” I sputtered.

I gazed around my room, empty now. Only one frog, puffing up and down at my feet.

“There were hundreds!” I cried. “Hundreds!”

“Another bad dream?” Dad asked.

“At least you found Godzilla,” Mom said. She bent down and picked him up. “I’ll take him to Will’s room. Go back to sleep, Ben.”

“Try not to dream,” Dad said as they closed the door behind them.

I dropped onto my bed. The sheets still felt slimy and wet from all the frogs.

This was it, I realized. Another warning sign. It’s all over the Internet that aliens are coming this week.

And so far, I’ve seen two of Zandor’s signs. The blue flash. And the amphibians.

And one other sign, I realized. People acting strangely. Like Mom and Dad up in the attic.

I sat on my bed and pulled the covers up to my
neck, staring out the window.

The aliens are invading any day now, I realized. Warlike aliens. And they’re coming here.

They’re definitely coming here.

I’ve got to warn everyone. Somehow, I’ve got to make people believe me!

And I’ve got to find out the truth about Mom and Dad.

I’m going back up to the attic, I decided.

I’m going back up there tomorrow.

I hurried home after school.

Will was in his room with his friend Sophie Corcoran. They were on the floor in front of the TV, playing PlayStation games.

Mom and Dad weren’t home.

“What’s up?” I called to Will as I passed his room.

He and Sophie didn’t even turn around. Too busy with their game.

Good, I thought. They won’t see me snooping around in the attic. So they won’t tell Mom and Dad.

I made my way down the hall. Once again, I pictured Mom and Dad up there, acting so strange, so tense and frightened.

And I pictured the flash of blue light from the attic closet.

They were so eager to get me out of there, I remembered. So desperate for me not to see what they were doing.

They even lied to me.

Why?

I stopped at the end of the hall. I grabbed the knob on the attic door. I started to turn it—then stopped.

“Hey—” I cried out.

The door—it was locked by a heavy steel padlock.

Now I felt more confused than ever.

Why would Mom and Dad do that? What were they trying to hide from me?

I didn’t have a clue.

A few minutes later, I was sitting at my computer with my headphones on, trying to find Zandor.

I wanted to tell him that I was seeing the warning signs of an alien invasion. I needed to ask him what I should do.

I contacted the World Alien Alliance.
I am looking for Zandor
, I wrote.
I have seen several signs of the alien invasion, including spontaneous amphibian replication. If anyone knows what I should do, please answer
.

“Ben! Open this door!”

I quickly switched off my computer monitor. I didn’t want Mom and Dad to find out what I was doing. I knew they’d try to stop me.

I got up and unlocked the door.

“It’s open,” I called as I sat back down at my desk.

Mom and Dad opened the door and stepped into my room. Dad cleared his throat. “Ben, what are you doing locked up in here?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I said. “Just—um—listening to some music.” I tapped my headphones.

“Ben, your father and I are worried about you,” Mom said. “Your teacher called. Mr. Kazaki. He told us that you insist on writing papers about aliens even when he’s asked you not to.”

“You know how we feel about that, Ben,” Dad said. His usually mild-mannered face looked puckered and tense. “We don’t like this obsession of yours.”

“I know,” I said.

“We think it would be best if you just stopped it,” Mom said. “Find something else to do. No more aliens!”

“Okay, sure.” I was just trying to get them to leave me alone. I stared at their faces, hard and tense.

Was it just worry? Or was it something else?

“No more aliens,” Dad said sternly. “No more
talk about aliens. No more searching for aliens. Just drop it. Drop it.”

“Do we understand each other?” Mom added.

I nodded. “I guess.”

“Good.” They turned and made their way downstairs, leaving the door open. I stood up and closed it behind them.

Why were they doing this?

All sorts of crazy ideas whirred through my head.

Did they know something about the alien invasion? Were they afraid of what they knew? Were they trying to protect me?

Yes, I decided. They were probably trying to keep me safe.

But why couldn’t they be honest about it?

I switched my monitor back on. A light blinked on my screen.

“Whoa.” I had an e-mail message.