Cliff believed all his life that Aliens did not exist. He believed the so-called “UFO CONSPIRACIES” are just gullible people needing something to believe in. He put as much stock in the ufo groups as he did in the Jesus freaks and bible thumpers. Growing up in a small town in the New Mexico desert, he never did see much evidence to pull him one way or the other. Alien or God. As a kid in Sunday school his folks got called in quite a bit. And one of the worst ones was when he asked, “if god and aliens come from space wouldn’t that make god an alien?” As you can imagine, that did not go over well with Mrs. Harper. She was the Sunday school teacher, hell, Cliff believes she might still be there. She was always to mean to let death take her. When his mother died, Cliff was barely in high school. All the moms from church decided he needed a new mother figure. Especially with his good for nothing father, Brad, who picked up drinking heavily as a hobby after her death.
As far as Cliff was concerned the only part of his father he claimed was his name, Williams. Bradley Clifford Williams Jr. Of course, he went solely by Cliff. After his mother’s funeral, Cliff barely saw his father.
Yes, they lived in the same house until Cliff moved out at age 17. He dropped out of school and got a job on the outskirts of town at a scrap yard. The owner let Cliff stay on sight as a kind of security at night. He had a one-bedroom trailer with a toilet and shower. A hotplate, microwave and small mini fridge made up the kitchen. It wasn’t much but Cliff didn’t pay rent and it suited him just fine. He sat most nights out on the front porch drinking and thinking about his life. He never once saw anything fly across or try to land in the desert behind him. But lately the news only spoke of how the government was declassifying UFO documents and more videos than ever are appearing on the net. Now, Cliff did understand there were things in this big ol’ world he couldn’t explain. But when a paper flies off the top of his tv the more likely explanation is he left a window open or there’s a new hole in his trailer. Why the hell would ghosts come back from the great beyond to just move papers around. They should have better things to do.
It was one O’clock in the morning when Cliff got a call from his boss. Scotty was a small loud man who carried himself with the confidence of any politician with his eyes on the voter’s money. He was smart and charming, like a rattle snake. If you left him alone and didn’t interfere with his plans on life you were safe. But the second you crossed him, or he thought you were going to cross him you were done for. And like the rattle snake after Scotty’s strike, it would take you a long agenizing time to die.
Cliff was quiet and did his job. Scotty liked that. So sometimes when Scotty got a call in the middle of the night, he would have Cliff take the big one-ton wrecker out and clean a crash site, or just grab some “junk” off of a neighbor’s lawn. The occasional repo. Cliff never questioned much on what he was given to do. He liked and respected Scotty, so when the call came, he went into the small office on site and grabbed the wrecker keys and headed to the address Scotty gave Cliff. The address was more directions than an average address. Drive south 25 miles, turn left on an old dirt road named, FORGOTTEN LANE. Go on for another 13 miles and it should be on the right-hand side. Cliff never questioned what he was going to pick up. He figured he would see it when he got there.
Cliff always liked driving the wrecker. His 6-foot 3 stature fit nicely in the bench seat of the old rig. The night was peaceful. Not a cloud in the sky. The moon gave enough light to create dancing shadows in the distance. The radio always seemed to find a song Cliff liked. After Cliff fueled the big wrecker from the onsite filling station he headed out. Headlights danced across the gravel road. Cliff rolled down his window and let the night’s cool air wash over him. The lights of the town and the scrap yard fading in his rear-view mirror he felt at peace. The desert had that power. The stillness. The never-ending horizon. The big diesel engine roared through the night. Like a tornado tearing through a trailer park. The big truck vibrated the pebbles on the shoulder of the road. Animals ran as the truck barreled down the road. An unfortunately slow rabbit was crushed under the massive wheels of the steel beast. As Cliff approached the 24 miles south, he began to look for any signs of a road. What he found was a large gate with a metal cut sign above it. FORGOTTEN LANE. “Dramatic.” Cliff opened the gate and headed down the road. He reached in the bag he kept in the truck and grabbed out some snowballs. Ripped open the package and had at them. While finishing his second one, Cliff had to swerve to miss the Gun Metal object sitting in the middle of the road. He skidded to a halt with the tail of the bed taking out part of the barbed wire fence that separated the property from the road. “What the fuck?’ Cliff kicked open the door to the cab and exited with heated enthusiasm. As he stomped toward the object, he felt unease. It didn’t look like any other vehicle he had ever seen. It was sleek. Held up by four, saw-horse type legs. As he closed the gap between himself and the object, he felt a buzzing in his bones. Whatever stood in front of him might have no lights but the electrical field it put out was something Cliff had only felt once before. And that was when he was drinking in his youth, and he was dared to piss on an electric fence. He still twitches when he sees the Old Bradbury fence. Against his better judgment he placed his hand slowly on the cool metal. He felt no ridges. No seams whatsoever. It was a perfectly smooth metal form. He understood why Scotty wanted it. And not caring who it belonged too. Cliff backed the wrecker up to the, the only word he could think to describe the object was sculpture. ‘I wonder how much this thing is worth.’ He thought as he searched for a way to strap a chain and hoist the item. Maybe it’s some kind of military secret that got lost here. The military has been all over these parts ever since they claimed they found a UFO in the 40s. Cliff’s thoughts raced as he tried to explain, at least to himself, what this was and how Scotty came upon it. Maybe he won it in a poker game. Scotty’s always claiming he is good. He wrapped the chain of the hoist around two of the legs and BAMB. A loud hollow sound made his ears ring. It was like one of those gongs from singing shows. And the chains dropped to the ground.
Cliff made a fist and rapped his knuckles on the metal. Didn’t seem hollow to him. Cliff walked underneath the saucer shaped sculpture to gather his chain and as he stood up the structure moved. He panicked and lowered quickly down, feeling like he would tip it over. What? Tip it over? That’s impossible, this thing is big. Huge, even compared to what he usually salvages. That made these nights easier for him. To think of them as salvages instead of stealing.
Cliff dropped the chains and placed both his hands, palms up, on the bottom and pushed up. He could lift the sculpture. It weighed next to nothing for him. He dropped it as he backed out from underneath it. “Holy shit. That’s impossible.” Cliff looked down at his arms and for a moment contemplated if he had gained superstrength without knowing it. He shook his head as he sat on the edge of the flatbed. No, that’s stupid Cliffy. More likely this thing’s a fake and it’s not metal at all. Maybe some high-grade plastic sanded down and painted to look like dark gun metal. He abandoned the thought and pulled it onto the bed of the wrecker and proceeded to strap it down. Being cautious not to break it. Before leaving the area, he grabbed his flashlight from the cab and checked the area. There was no damage to the truck, but the fence was a lost cause. Good thing no one knows I was out here. It was almost an after thought as he climbed into the driver’s seat and set the transmission in granny gear and headed out. It was easy enough to find his way to the road. The stars still twinkled in the night sky. A few clouds found their way from the horizon. The moon’s light began to dim. Cliff grabbed one of the beers he kept in a small cooler on the passenger’s seat and popped it open. He took a long swig from the can. It’s gotta be military. There’s no way that thing is domestic. I’d give my right nut if that thing came from the farm. They musta been testing near here and lost it. Just a big drone. That’s why there’s no windows. Damn things flown with a game stick by someone thousands of miles away. And Scotty just got his hands on one. This is gonna be a big payday. Cliff turned on to the main road and headed for the scrap yard.
The rest of the drive back, visions danced through Cliff’s mind. Visions of money, a new bike, women flocking towards him. Cliff’s attention was brought back to the road in time to swerve and miss hitting a coyote. The wrecker went headfirst into the very steep ditch of the road. The county used these ditches as spillways, so the city doesn’t flood. Cliff had no way of knowing how long he had been out. It couldn’t have been too long. The night sky was still dark. Clouds covered the sky until no stars were visible. The moon didn’t exist at this moment in time. With the headlight buried in the ground Cliff couldn’t see past his nose. Blood dripped from his face. As he reached a hand up to his throbbing head, he found a cut on his forehead and blood from his nose. He grabbed a dirty rag and cut off the blood low to his nose. “FUCK.” His scream seemed to echo in the night. “Great Cliff. Just fucking great. Scotty’s gonna lose his shit.” And just like every time Cliff did something he didn’t want Scotty to find out about the song played in his head, SCOTTY DOESN’T KNOW, SCOTTY DOESN’T KNOW. He couldn’t help but flinch as the pain in his head came to a spear as he laughed. Okay, no more laughing. He thought as he leaned and rummaged through the mess on the floorboard looking for the flashlight. A high-pitched noise drew his attention. He shot up in his seat like he was spring loaded. He stared out the broken windshield, searching for any sign of movement. And hint that someone, or something was out there in the desert watching him. Shit boy, you have a concussion. He saw what looked like faint blue and green indiglo lights. Like the watches he saw as a boy. Lights that almost looked like they were glowing figures in the dark. But that can’t be. Even if there was something out here with glow in the dark paint or reflectors, there is no light to charge them.
Cliff reached blindly searching for the flashlight, not taking his eyes off of the neon glow he saw. Just a glimpse here and there, but enough that it worried him. What if I fried my brain and there is no one here to take me to the hospital? He found the flashlight as one of the glowing shapes faded to darkness. He froze, staring at the second shape. For a brief moment he was convinced he was hallucinating then everything changed. The blue indigo began to pulse. Was it getting closer? Cliff squinted his eyes to try and see better. Before he could react, the form appeared to be running at him. Faster with each breath he took. He fumbled for his seatbelt. Trying to free himself. “Goddamn it, Cliff. Get out. Get the fuck out.” Finally, he freed himself from the confines of the seatbelt. As he fell to the floorboard, he saw the blurry glow slam into the hood of the wrecker and jump off. There was a loud bang as the wrecker rocked further into its prison. What the hell was that? He scrambled for the flashlight. Finally, the bright beam cut through the night, allowing Cliff to see what was in his direct line of sight of the flashlight. Slowly he climbed up and out of the cab, through the broken windshield. He clumsily climbed over the cab into the flatbed of the wrecker. Putting his weight against the back window. Searching the desert with his flashlight. Searching for anything that could explain what he saw. Cliff, you are losing your damn mind. He thought. A little car wreck and you turn into a damn lunatic. He checked his cargo. The sculpture was still intact and secured to the back of the wrecker. “Well, at least you don’t look damaged. But I guess I just lost my cut.” A chirping sound brought Cliff spinning around, flashlight up like a shield. He saw nothing. Just blackness. As he scanned with the light, he noticed a rock formation not too far off. Maybe 60 or 70 feet. But the formation looked odd. The shadow of the rocks seemed to move. Cliff, get a grip. “You can’t be a wuss now. If people find out you freaked out because you were stuck in the dark you’ll never hear the end of it.” Again he saw the shadows move. In a moment he could not decide if bravery or stupidity took over as he turned off the flashlight. As soon as his eyes began to adjust to the light source being removed, he began to see the glow of the blue and green surrounding the shadows he saw move. The green glow began to move towards Cliff and the wrecker. Slowly. Almost crawling. The blue glow seemed to be getting bigger. As the green one’s speed increased, Cliff felt his heart sink. His heart was beating so fast he couldn’t hear the shapes approach. Too late he realized the blue shape was getting closer as it got bigger. It was flying toward him. He turned the flashlight on and pointed it in the direction of the blue light and he saw nothing. Only blackness. Then he felt it. Something hit the wrecker so hard it threw him from the back. The flashlight flew out of his hands and landed a great distance away from him. He hit the ground hard. As he scrambled to his feet, he felt needle-like pains in his hands and arms. Goat head thorns covered all his exposed skin. He grimaced as he pulled them out. Finally, just giving his forearm a harsh wipe to remove the remaining ones. He found himself a distance away from the wrecker. The flashlight, further away, was illuminating the desert in the opposite direction from the wrecker. He became filled with terror. He could hear movement on the wrecker. The lights of the dash, no more than a child’s night light in a great storm. He began to slowly step to the wrecker when he heard a loud snap. Then another. Followed by a final snap and bang as if something hard hit the cab. The sculpture. Someone cut the straps. Someone’s trying to steal it from me. The thought filled him with such rage he found himself sprinting towards the wrecker as fast as he could. He jumped on the flatbed and was ready to fight. The blue glow figure was before him. It was massive. He slid as he came to a stop and peered up at the creature that stood before him. The creature was covered in a black fur that was almost invisible in the backdrop of the night, smaller fluorescent hairs protruding from the ends gave the indigo glow that Cliff saw. The creature made a horrible sound between a growl and a yell. He could not see its mouth but felt its hot breath. Its teeth must have been as black as the hairs on the creature for Cliff to be standing so close and not see them. The claws he did see. But only when it was too late. It ripped through his chest. He raised his arms to try and defend himself. It was useless. The creature was stronger than Cliff. He fell on the flatbed only to be face to face with the green indiglo creature. It grabbed Cliff and threw his body back into the darkness of the desert. As Cliff lay there bleeding and seeing the blue and green glow continue to move around the back of the wrecker, he saw light begin to spin. The blood loss must have been getting to him. Cliff was getting cold. He was becoming sleepy. As the lights began to rise into the sky, Cliff heard the familiar voice of Scotty over the radio. “Goddamn it, Cliff. Where the fuck are you? I have been sitting here with a busted axel for almost four hours.” Static. “Cliff, do you copy? Cliff, I got to get Cheryl home before her old man gets off of work. Cliff?” Static. Cliff only heard static as he saw the light fade into the night. Cliff could no longer keep his eyes open. The darkness took Cliff as he listened to the static in the desert.
Sleepless Oblivion 
Leave a comment