Curiosity Kills, Bravery Baits

It was a sleepy hot summer day, was the thing. If it had fell during a lightning storm or during the witching hour, it would have made much more sense. But no, it came down right in the middle of the high school parking lot as footballers were trickling in for summer practice.

Mike’s new corvette was the first casualty. It must have been instantly pulverized, looking at the size of the crater. To say nothing of Mike.

The (spaceship?) that had caused this mess looked pristine, alien in its perfection. Even dust seemed to know better than to land on its shiny black hull. It was about the size of the swimming pool at the local center, but not nearly as inviting. No windows marred its exterior, but plenty of bolts and rivets did. Ugly welding criss-crossed the outside, ruining the otherwise uniform shine. There was a tinge of blue to the dust stirred up during the landing.

After the crash, the coaches and the players, those who hadn’t been pulped, got up in shock. Many had their ears blown out. Several were injured. Perhaps the lack of communication coupled with the head injuries led them to their ill-fated actions. Or perhaps it was just in their nature to take the bull by the horns, as it were.

Sean was the first to get his bearings, they later reported. Him and Coach Smith had been behind the locker rooms and insulated from the worst of the blast. They both turned to each other.

“What the fuck was that? There’s no earthquakes in Alabama!” Sean yelled.

Coach Smith didn’t respond, instead looking pensive.

Sean said, “We should go check it out, see what’s going on.”

To this the coach stirred. “Wait a second, don’t go out yet. Last time I felt something like this was in Iraq. Lord knows, maybe instead of school shooters, we got a school bomber.”

“Well in that case, we should go now and see if we can help. Don’t be such a fucking coward!”

“First we need to check out the situation carefully. Let’s go see what caused it. I think it came from the parking lot.”

Sean and Coach Smith began walking towards the corner of the building. When they reached it, the coach pulled out his camera and carefully stuck it out just enough to see what was happening.

“Damn, there’s too much dust kicked up,” Coach whispered. “I can’t get a clear view.”

Sean scoffed. After that he must have realized that Coach wasn’t going to ease up on the safety precautions anytime soon. He darted up and started running directly toward the crash site. He never was much one for standing around.

As he started approaching, Coach Smith called out to him. Sean didn’t respond, but the spaceship sure did. Or maybe it was always going to go that way. Anyhow, it unfurled. All those strange lines that marred the surface split apart, like someone had peeled an orange. It was hard to make out what was going on inside, but it looked like plants. Not your normal oak, but more like those you see in National Geographic.

By this time, of course, the first responders started rolling in. The fire department got there first. The crash site, however, had obliterated the road into the parking lot. Fire trucks aren’t exactly capable of off-roading, but that didn’t stop the driver from trying. He almost made it too. But then the ground started shaking again and over went the firetruck.

The driver was alright, but he’d effectively blocked the path. When the police arrived a few minutes later, they had to get out and walk.

Sean by this time had reached the epicenter of the crash. Since the ground wasn’t stable, and had many pieces of asphalt, dirt, and car mixed together, he needed to be careful and had mostly succeeded, excepting a cut along the front of his shin.

As he approached the ship, the surreality of the moment crashed upon him. What exactly had happened, and what was he seeing?

He reached out and touched the hull of the ship. Despite the hull coming off in pieces, the edges were smooth. Actually, it felt quite like rubber. There seemed to be a joining system not dissimilar to tongue and groove.

After the treacherous trip to get to the ship, the actual alien space ship was a relief by comparison. The contents, which mainly seemed to consist of plants, were haphazardly tossed around. They ranged in color from deepest blue all the way to a light yellow, but they all shared one common feature. They had an almost pearlescent glow.

Meanwhile, the police had had a stroke of luck. Someone at a gas station nearby had heard the crash and come to investigate. Not only did he have four wheelers, he was willing and eager to participate in a rescue.

“This is what I’ve been prepping for,” he told the police.

While most of the football players injuries were minor, they were eager to clear the scene for the air crash investigators. They rounded them up without much of note until they got to Coach Smith.

“My idiot student ran directly towards the crash site,” he informed the cops.

The cops looked at each other nervously. No one was eager to walk into a potential death trap. The two youngest were voluntold to go in and drag the student out.

Sean met them on his way up.

“Son, it’s time to get you to a hospital,” said the cop.

“But I’m fine,” Sean said. “I don’t have insurance.”

 “Regardless, surely the school (or the idiot pilot) will pay for this. Just come on.”

At first, Sean was bandaged up by a harried CAN and sent home. But soon, his family reported that his condition was deteriorating. He had been violently ill ever since arriving home and couldn’t keep down any food.

He was hardly alone. Most of the survivors had nausea, but his was by far the most severe.

As the air crash investigators arrived, they were informed of the situation. The state had ordered the entire area cordoned off.

Sean passed away shortly after.