The Incident of Mars Hill

In 1954, Chester Candler built a log cabin in a quiet little meadow at the foot of Mars Hill Mountain, Maine. His daughter and granddaughter live there today, although it has undergone many modern-day improvements. The homestead lies about six miles from the center of town.

Madelyn Collins, a trim 39-year-old, is busy looking through the junk drawer for the keys to the truck. She stops when she hears the weather report come on the radio.

“Well, folks, it looks like we’re in for a big one! The snowstorm that was beginning to turn out to sea is now holding its course and should reach our coastline around 8 o’clock tonight! It would be a good time to run out and pick up that milk, eggs, and bread! Make sure you have plenty of water plus loads of yummy snacks.   If you have a generator at home, getting extra gas would be wise; there is no telling how long it will last. With winds nearing 45 miles an hour, plenty of drifting will occur. The National Weather Bureau says the storm could drop as much as 28 to 34 inches of snow. Now, back to the music with The Rasmus and Sail Away.”

Madelyn uses the glass window of the microwave to put on her earrings. She can’t help but notice how her hair is starting to be streaked with gray. She mutters, “Oh well, kid, you can’t stay young forever.” Madelyn turns toward the hallway and calls her daughter, Piper. “Piper, honey. Could you come here, please?”

The spirited blonde seventeen-year-old appears running in her stocking feet and slides to a stop. Her mother laughs. “What’s that all about?”

Piper smiles, “I just thought it would be fun, that’s all. What’s up?”

“Did you hear the weather forecast? Jeff Hill says we’re in for a big storm. I thought I’d pick up some things at Tweedlie’s IGA. Is there anything you would like?”

Piper leans against the kitchen table and looks up at the ceiling, her long blonde ponytail dangling behind her. “Hmm. Oh! I know! How about two packs of Ding Dongs? I love those things.”

“Ding Dongs it is,” smiles her mother. “And would you please bring in some firewood for tonight? I’d appreciate it.” Digging a little more in the draw, she asks, “Have you seen the keys? I can’t find them!” Piper smirks as she hitches her thumb at the backdoor. “Yeah. They’re hanging over there on the hook you put in, so you wouldn’t have to dig through the junk drawer anymore.” Madelyn’s face flushes as she drops her head. “You know? Sometimes I’m just too clever.   O’ well. See you in a bit. Bye!” Piper waves goodbye to her mom and closes the door.

Looking up at the threatening gray sky, Madelyn is glad she bought the new truck. It’s a 2005 Chevy Colorado. She bought it because the ads said it was good in the snow. The reason she could afford such a truck was due to her husband Jim dying in a fatal work accident at the lumberyard. An investigation proved it was an overlooked safety hazard, and she was awarded nearly half a million dollars for her loss. That was four years ago, and she still wakes up every morning lonely and crying. She knows his death has been grueling on Piper, too. Madelyn is stirred back to reality by a snowflake landing on her nose and decides she had better get going.

Piper is an only child and was thirteen when her father died. Jim was in special forces in the Marines and started teaching Piper survival skills when she was ten. He thought it would be a good idea, what with living so close to a moutain forest. Piper thrived on the attention and learning. She thought it was great fun knowing how to survive in the wilderness and not be afraid. Jim even taught her some combat skills to protect herself. He laughed as he told Madelyn, “The boys better watch out. She’s going to be one tough little lady!”

Piper didn’t let her mother know she is continuing her relationship with her father through his picture on her nightstand. She tells him everything about her day each night before going to sleep. She’d tell him when something exciting or sad would happen at school, like when her best friend moved away. To Piper, it was like he had never died. Sometimes, she would imagine him standing behind her, smiling. Or think she saw his reflection in her mirror, even though that was silly to believe.

Piper picks up the kitchen after breakfast and puts on her toque and mittens to get the firewood. She fills the wheelbarrow with oak logs and remembers to include the kindling and birch bark. The snow has started falling steadily, and Piper hopes her mother is safe. 

After a light lunch, Piper enters the living room to do her homework. “Algebra, blah! How boring.” Piper places a few logs in the fireplace and sets the kindling ablaze. Soon, the logs are crackling nicely. Piper drapes a light blanket across her shoulders and sets to work on her studies. It’s not long until she drifts away into sleep between the algebra and the heat of the fire.

Piper’s eyes fly open due to a loud banging sound. She looks at the hall clock and sees it’s a quarter to five. “Mom? Is that you?” Her mother doesn’t answer. “Where is she? She left for the store this morning at ten thirty!” Piper hears the banging again and discovers it from a pine branch hitting the side of the house. The wind has picked up considerably. Piper’s heart pounds against her chest when the phone rings, and rushes toward it. “MOM!?!”

“Piper, darling! First of all, I’m alright. The storm came in so quickly that it caught everybody by surprise! Downtown traffic became unpassable in no time. Cars were stuck, just spinning their wheels. Do you remember Mrs. Dubois from church? Well I’m staying with her until the roads are clear. How are you doing? Do you have power?”

Piper turns on the outside light and sees a dark figure dart behind a snow drift. “Yes, I have power. I’m looking out the backdoor right now and see the wind is blowing hard. There’s a big drift across the driveway. In the morning, I’ll use the tractor to plow it out of the way for you.”

Madelyn stammers, “Please be careful! I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Piper chuckles into the phone, “Don’t worry, Mom. Dad taught me how to drive the tractor. I’ll be fine.” Her mother sounds a little calmer as she reminds Piper about the generator in the cellar. “ There’s some extra gas under the stairs. Okay then. I guess I’ll be seeing you sometime tomorrow. Love ya!”

“Love you to Mom.” After hanging up, Piper takes another look out the backdoor. Just beyond the casting of the backdoor light, Piper sees a pair of glowing green eyes reflected in the dark and thinks it must be a raccoon looking for shelter from the storm.

After a supper of a cheese and ham omelet and toast, Piper decides to check to see if the generator needs topping off. The wind howls, and the lights flicker.  Just as Piper reaches for the cellar door, they go out. “Damn! I was hoping that wouldn’t happen. Mom says there’s a flashlight in the junk drawer. Great! Maybe we need another little hook to hang that on, too!”  She feels around inside until she finds it and turns it on. The wind howls again, but this time, it sounds different, almost mechanical. Piper grabs the handle and jerks the door wide open.

Something about the size of a big dog sprints past the foot of the stairs, causing Piper to yelp. She slams the door and leans on it with her flashlight hand while turning the deadbolt with her other. Then she hears it. The fourth step from the bottom is the only one that squeaks. Something is climbing the stairs. Her eyes are wide and dilated with fear. Piper leans closer to the door to try and hear. Suddenly, there is a loud boom as if someone threw a five-pound bag of potatoes at the door. Piper scurries back so fast that she slams into the kitchen table, knocking over the ketchup bottle and sending the silverware flying. Quickly covering her face with the crook of her arm, the flashlight beam dances wildly in her shaking hand. “God! What was that thing? What am I going to do?”

Piper hears her father instructing her like he did many years ago. “What’s the first thing to do when a crisis arises?” Piper’s voice cracks with disbelief, “Daddy?”  The voice repeats, “What is the first thing we do when a crisis arises?”  Piper swallows hard and whispers, “Stay calm.” When he speaks again, Piper is sure her father has returned to save her. “What’s the second thing?” Piper responds with confidence, “Secure the area.” She jams one of the wooden chairs under the cellar door handle. Next, she locks all the windows and doors. Piper receives an impression of her father’s nightstand and heads upstairs. Pulling open the nightstand drawer, she finds a white envelope with a key inside. The tag on the key reads trunk. Knitting her eyebrows together, Piper thinks hard. She looks at the bedroom closet and thinks, “Your old military locker?” She slides open the closet doors and pulls the locker into the room. Her hands tremble as she unlocks it. Opening the lid, Piper finds a black turtleneck sweater, black toque, grease face paint, and night goggles. It doesn’t take her long to figure out she is supposed to use these items. Picking up the sweater, her eyes widen when she sees her father’s MRI .44magnum Desert Eagle.

Piper puts everything on the bed, including an extra clip of bullets. In the master bath, she puts on the sweater and covers her face with the black grease paint. Next, she tucks her blonde hair beneath the toque and puts on the night goggles. Shutting off the lights, Piper is amazed at how clearly she can see everything in the dark. Something catches her eye out the bedroom window. What looked like a huge snow drift behind the woodshed was actually a snow-covered spaceship. As she watched a door slide open, four more monsters descended into the storm. They huddled together momentarily before moving toward the house, their spaceship door closing. 

Panic is gripping Piper’s heart! “Oh God! What do I do? What do I do?” But suddenly, she knows she needs to secure her position. Piper races through the house, shutting off every light until the only thing left is the fire’s glowing embers. She rushes down the hall to the downstairs bathroom and locks the door. Piper squats down in the tub, resting the heavy Desert Eagle on her knees. She waits.

The raging gale continues outside, but Piper can’t hear it. She only hears the sound of her own heart beating as she tries to remain calm. Piper keeps her breathing slow and steady, and then she hears the chair fall and the cellar door open.

At first, she could hear the creatures moving about the house. She knew they were looking for people. Finally, Piper hears small clicks and tweets as they communicate with one another. They come to a stop outside of the bathroom door. Piper manages not to flinch when the door knob is tested. Then there came a scratching sound and Piper knew the aliens were opening the lock. 

When they finally get the door unlocked, they do nothing. Piper holds her breath to try to stay as still as possible. “They’re listening. I mustn’t move.”

The door creaks as it is slowly opened. Piper closes her eyes, afraid of what she will see, but forces them open again to be able to shoot. Long fingers wrap around the edge of the door, and the first creature appears. It is about three feet tall, though it is slightly bent over. The head looks too large for the rest of its body. The creature’s color is a shade of gray. Though its eyes are large, they are squinted as if it is trying to see in the dark. It waves its other thin arm with extended fingers back and forth as if trying to feel its way in the pitch-black room. The others stumble in behind their leader. The last alien stops in the doorway. Piper has an idea: if she shoots the one in the doorway first, the others will have a harder time escaping. The urge to shoot comes almost immediately, but she must refrain to be sure to kill them all.

Piper watches until they are almost in a perfectly straight line and pulls the trigger. The muzzle flash lights up the room, and the alien nearest her screams and shields its eyes. Piper turns her weapon on him next and feels something wet hit her face. In the chaos, Piper keeps firing, being deafened by the noise of the handgun and shrieks of pain. The Desert Eagle clicks three more times before Piper realizes it’s over. She steps out of the bathtub and slips in the goo covering the floor. Weeping, Piper walks into the kitchen and stands perfectly still. She removes the night goggles and sees the figure of a man standing before the fireplace, illuminated by the dying coals. “You did great, Kitten,” he said proudly and disappeared.

Shortly after Piper’s mother arrived home, the police cars began arriving, followed by shiny, black government sedans to record the incident of Mars Hill.