As we stepped out into the backyard, the warmth of the June sun hit us, the air thick with the scent of fresh grass and wildflowers. The sky was impossibly blue, clear and bright, dotted with soft, cotton-like clouds drifting lazily across the horizon. A light but warm breeze whispered through the trees and brushed against our faces, carrying with it the smell of pine and damp earth. The world felt alive, vibrant, yet there was an undeniable weight in the air. It felt like something was coming, like we were on the edge of something big.
My thoughts immediately turned to Tony. He was so small, barely able to keep up with the rest of us. I knew he couldn’t maintain the pace for long, but before I could say anything, Bobby was already there. With one swift motion, he scooped Tony up, lifting him effortlessly into his arms. It was like something straight out of a movie—this would be the part where Bobby would shout, “Run!” But in reality, we didn’t need words. The urgency hung in the air like a thick fog, unspoken but understood. We didn’t need instructions; we just knew.
We bolted through Andy’s yard, the tall grass brushing against our legs, and into the woods. This forest was familiar—a sanctuary where we played countless times—but the part directly behind Andy’s house was less so, at least to me. Dan and Andy, who weren’t with us, would have known it better. As we rushed in, every tree, shrub, and dirt patch seemed to blend into one indistinguishable blur. Bobby, David, and I all knew there was a trail somewhere back here, but for a moment, doubt gnawed at me.
Bobby came to an abrupt stop, his eyes scanning the ground as though searching for the faintest sign of the path. My heart pounded as I wondered if we had run right past it. If so, we’d have to keep pushing forward through the maze of trees until we picked it up further back—likely a mile or more. Just as panic began to rise, Bobby’s head snapped eastward. Without a word, he took off, and we followed close behind.
The trail started heading east, then turned south for quite a while before curving back east about a mile down. Soon we found ourselves on the old trail that led toward the back of Dad’s ten acres. Relief washed over me as the familiar path stretched out before us. We raced down it, past hay bales with worn, dilapidated targets leaning at odd angles. Once bright and fresh, they had been weathered by seasons of summer heat, winter snow, and countless rainstorms. The air was thick with the earthy scent of decaying leaves and damp soil, mingled with the faint musk of wild animals hidden in the underbrush.
It had been a long run to reach the opening where the trail split in two. When we finally arrived, we could have turned left, heading north toward our house. But that was exactly what we were trying to escape, so instead, we turned right, heading south—away from everything.
Thankfully, the path was still familiar. As the trail narrowed, the trees on either side closed in, forming a tunnel. Shadows danced in my peripheral vision, playing tricks on my mind, but I kept my eyes locked on Bobby. He barely hesitated before choosing the southern route, his determined stride unrelenting despite the weight of Tony in his arms.
The urgency that had driven us since we left the backyard remained unspoken but palpable, propelling us forward. Each step brought us closer to something—an unknown destination, a moment we couldn’t yet see but could feel just ahead. We didn’t know exactly what we would find at the end of the trail, but we knew there was no turning back.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true—we did know where the trail led. We were very familiar with this area. When Mom took her summer naps, Bobby, David, and I would sneak off for walks out here, often without her knowing. Once, we went too far, all the way to an old dump. There was a tar pit there, with animal skeletons jutting out of its black surface. The way back home that day was long and daunting, every step heavier than the last.
As we approached the house, we spotted a faint figure in the distance—Mom. She was yelling something, and we were sure we were in big trouble. But when we finally got close, she saw how well we had been getting along. Later, as she retold the story to friends one evening, she said she just didn’t have the heart to scold us.
The path ahead came to an end, curving from the south to the east. If we followed it to the left, it led to the hill. In the winter, it had been our favorite spot to ski or sled. High and steep, it was the perfect slope for long, exhilarating rides, especially when the icy surface sent us sliding far beyond the base. Now, in June, the hill looked different. Its grassy slope rose gently, leading into a clearing where the lush grass swayed in the breeze. Beyond it, the faint glimmer of water—our pond—reflected the sunlight in golden streaks. The hills in the distance were layered in soft shadow, their contours fading into the horizon. It was peaceful, serene, yet something about the place felt heavy, significant—like we weren’t just passing through but were meant to be here.
Bobby, walking ahead, moved faster, like he wanted to get this over with. I could see the tightness in his jaw, the way his eyes kept flicking over his shoulder. I knew he didn’t want to be out here, away from Andy’s house. He was looking for a reason to turn back, but the pull forward was stronger than the pull to go home.
“Why are we doing this, man?” Bobby muttered, his voice thick with frustration. “We don’t even know what’s out there. We should be staying put. This whole thing’s getting too weird.”
I stopped walking, and at first, he didn’t notice. His footsteps carried him further down the trail until he began descending the steep hill, carefully balancing Tony in his arms. When he realized I had paused, he turned back, retracing his steps up the hill. His face was tight with confusion.
I pointed to the southeast, over the pond and toward the distant hills. "That’s where we have to go. I don’t know how I know it, but I do," I said.
He turned to look where I had pointed. He knew what was over there—more hills, more paths, and, eventually, the old Manistee junkyard with its tar pits. "But I don’t get it. What makes you so sure?"
He set Tony down, and Tony immediately wandered over to a small tree, plucking a big leaf from one of its branches.
I swallowed, my throat tight, my heart hammering in my chest. For a moment, I wasn’t sure what to say. But then, the words just came out, unbidden.
“I— I had a dream last night,” I said, my voice more steady than I felt. “Maybe it wasn’t just a dream. I don’t know.”
Bobby raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt.
“I—I was on a spaceship. There was this alien, Tsatso. He was different, not like the others.” I paused, unsure of how to explain what I felt. “It smelled... nice. Like cinnamon. Or something warm. And he wasn’t scary. I felt safe with him. But there were other aliens, too. They were probing me, and I was on a white bed, completely exposed.”
I swallowed hard, trying to steady my voice. “It was strange, but... I think it was real. I always thought it was just a recurring dream—sometimes a good dream, like when Tsatso was in it. But other times, it was a bad dream, like when I was being probed. I don’t know how to explain it, but I think it happened. I didn’t really think it was real until today. Before, I thought maybe it was just a weird dream... but now, with everything going on, it feels like it wasn’t just in my head. Like it really happened. And I think that ship—the one from my dream—is close. It’s over that hill. I can feel it.”
“What do you mean, you can feel it?” David asked, catching up with me and Bobby, panting slightly from the run.
Bobby stared at me like I had completely lost my mind, his face unreadable. “You’re telling me you’ve been abducted by aliens? And now you’re saying we should go find them? You think that’s the plan?”
But David... his eyes were fixed on me with a kind of intensity. There was something in the way he looked at me—like he believed me.
David, however, stepped up beside me, his voice soft but firm. “Maybe it’s the only way to figure this out. If the aliens are after you, we need to find them before they find us.”
Bobby crossed his arms, shaking his head in disbelief. “You guys are nuts. Seriously. We’re just supposed to go walking through the woods because of some weird dream?”
“We’re not just walking through the woods,” David said, his voice a little sharper now. “We’re looking for something. Something important.”
A faint hum reached my ears, almost like the distant rumble of thunder, but it was steady—too steady. My heart skipped a beat. The sound was growing louder, a vibration in the air that I could almost feel in my chest.
“Did you hear that?” I whispered, my voice tight with anticipation.
Bobby stiffened, his eyes narrowing as he listened, his gaze flicking around the trees. “No way... That’s the ship. It’s out there.”
He stopped, then sighed, shoulders slumping. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with.”
I felt a wave of relief. He wasn’t fully convinced, but he was with us. We were moving forward.
The woods were thick around us, the path winding deeper into the trees, the sound of our footsteps muted by the dense foliage. Just ahead, the trail curved toward my favorite spot—the hilltop. A place where I always came to think, to breathe. And today, it felt different. The air felt heavier, charged with something I couldn’t explain.
The hum was getting louder, closer now. Every step felt more urgent, like we were approaching something inevitable, something bigger than any of us.
Bobby gave a reluctant nod, and we pressed on toward the hill. The distant hum reverberated in my chest as we drew closer.
“Let’s just hope this doesn’t end with us being probed again,” Bobby muttered, his voice laced with sarcasm, but there was no humor in it.
I grinned, the sound of his joke a strange comfort as we walked forward, the hum pulling us onward. We were doing this. No matter how insane it seemed, we were going to find out what was waiting for us. The aliens were waiting.
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