The Hunger

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic


This is a story about a man who hears a fallen meteor crash into the ground near his house. Then the change happens as it follows another story that mends it altogether.

Submitted: August 13, 2018

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Submitted: August 13, 2018

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He shut off the tow truck at 9:37 at night with his eyes almost shutting to the knocking of sleep on his brain. The dome light on the truck came on behind his head when he scoffed at the feel of the light on his shoulder.

Faulty wiring again; what a sham,

Shannon Paulson stared at the dome light for a few seconds before pulling the dome off of the base point, pulling the light from the clasps when it felt hot between his index finger and thumb when he placed the cover back onto the housing. The engine underneath the hood is ticking when he opened the door and closed it with the keys in his hand that rattled every time he bounced. He lives in a single-wide trailer on the outskirts of Little Horn, New Mexico. The temperatures today spiked up to an uncomfortable one hundred degrees. The sand that was underneath his feet when he picked up a dead Chevy on the side of the road cracked when he cranked it on the saddles and pulled the car up with the hydraulics slightly failing on the old Ford that has seen better days.

The owner of the Chevy is nowhere to be seen when he looked around at the death majestic of desert. It is all around him when he swore that he can hear a coyote in the distance of where the road is that is long and tan with this part of the earth holding a cancer that could kill anyone that wonders it with stupid pretenses. He carted the car to the next lot that is not his but a friend by the name of Brice Tanner who likes to charge people a fortune to get their cars back with a stench of strong whiskey on his breath – always on his breath.

“You didn’t see an owner of the car?” Brice looked up from his crumpled newspaper that looks like it is going to turn into mush any minute now. A fan is oscillating the hot air around the room, trying to make it cooler but failing in the process of keeping it cool around the area that looks so cramped.

“What kinds of idiots want to take a hike in the desert? No one called you about it?”

Shannon told him about the state sticker that is placed on the windshield of the car when Brice frown at the notice that everything is going to go south on the deal that he will be making shit money on the trade.

“Oh great, the state put their brand on the windshield.” Brice shook his head, getting up from his seat to look out towards his lot that could have stretch for miles.

“I’m only going to get eighty dollars out of the exchange and the taxes are only going to be fifty dollars. Fifty Dollars, I don’t even have enough to get a blow job from Joanie on the street. I am getting close to retirement age and I don’t have time to be dicking around with the fucks that want to bend me over, for Christ sweet sakes.” Brice started to cough on the window of his shack. The whole scene of it looks repulsive.

“What do you want to do then? I can’t leave it at my place. I don’t have a title for it and my place is not licensed for a tow company. I can go to prison to move something that I don’t have credentials for.”

“Leave it the fuck here! Maybe no one will claim it and then I’ll make something up to get it scrapped. That is more money for the buck.” Brice smiled when Shannon knew what he was getting at. That is totally illegal, totally criminal.

“Okay, I’m going to be heading out. See if I can get another one.” Shannon smiled when he backtracked out of the room and shut the door behind him.

I need to get out of this while the leaving is gettin’.

Shannon walked away from the door to spend the rest of the day pissing people off. Four times, there was a gun that is pulled on him with one wanting to kill him. The guy that held him up told Shannon that he already has a hole prepared for him in the desert. It won’t be long to conceal Shannon and the piece of shit truck that he has. He left that car alone when the day stretched to dusk and the dusk turned over into night. He walked to the door and pressed the key into the lock, shutting his front door behind him when he turned on the light to the living room. He felt the air on his face when he threw his keys on the table and sauntered to the fridge to get a beer from the twenty four-pack that has been on the bottom drawer for almost a month. He came back to the living room, dropping into his reclining chair and popping the top on the beer, sighing before putting that beer to his lips to taste the sweet wheat that poured down his gullet.

He grabbed the remote from the saddle that is on the side of his chair and turned on the television, getting MSNBC when he listened to all the bad that is happening on Washington Hill. The President wants friendly ties with Russia. The temperature in the world is rising. Floods are all over the place. The flames out in the western states of America are at the Rocky Mountains.

The world is shaping up nicely. Shannon spoke inside his mind when he realized that his first beer is done. The buzz is starting to come into swing when he grabbed another beer from the fridge. He turned the station to CNN when he felt his senses starting to dull, hearing the news that is getting worse and worse in his mind when he felt the rise to go to the closet that is in his living room. He looked at the door that is closed in the living room when he looked back at the television and then the closed door again. He clutched the beer in his hand when he felt the nerve of getting up from that recliner to open the door to the closet.

The feeling is getting better. The feeling of feelings is getting aware. He clutched the beer as the foam gathered up from the hole as it foamed all over his hand that clutched further. Then the aluminum cut into the palm of his hand when he winced, dropping the beer onto the floor.

“Ow!” Shannon opened and closed his hand while the blood flowed over his digits. The patters of blood gathered on the floor. He got up to get a couple of paper towels that are on the dispensary. He came back to wipe the blood from the floor when something rumbled over his trailer, sounding like a jet that just broke the barrier of Mach One when most of everything in his house rumbled.

“What the hell is that?” Shannon came up from the floor with the blood seeping over the wood and through it. He wiped the paper towels around his hand as he ran out the front door of his trailer that sits in the middle of nowhere.

He sees something glowing in the hard pact ground as he continued to run, smelling something like sulfur and cordite in the air when he continued to pounce towards something that is in the ground. He got there at the embankment less than thirty five seconds later when he doubled over to see the object that is glowing in the ground.

“A meteor?” Shannon cocked his head.

“I’m going to be rich!” Shannon brightened up, jumping around the hole like a leprechaun jumping around a pot of gold.

“I’m going to leave this hell hole and get a place in the Bahamas! I’m going to say bye-bye to these narrow-minded hicks! I’m going to be the best that will ever be that left Death Valley and entered Blue Ghana! I don’t know what is glowing in that meteor but it will be green as high that it will be! Sky high stacks. I will be whatever I want to be!” Shannon for a moment felt at loss with his mind leaving his senses. He didn’t realize that he is completely drunk now when he stopped with his eyes overlooking the horizon that is cool as a dream from the day that is hot as a hellacious nightmare.

The meteor in the ground continued to glow. It pulsated in the ground as the light in the sky burned out as night formed over the secret that will stay a secret in the times that come. What will come is in the eyes of one Shannon Paulson when he buried in the ground of where he stood is something that he does not know…yet.

Shannon stood there with sweat forming on his brow, trying to figure out who to call when the meteor in the ground continued to glow. It glowed a fiery purple when Shannon put his hand on his chin, thinking of calling the kooky one that likes to talk about aliens that hitchhike through space with loaded syringes to poke into the human body and do experiments on the human brain. The human condition has been going tits up for the past seventy years now, due to the possible experimentation on the weed that is growing in Colorado by the hop head provided by the kooky guy that brought up documents that he absolutely cooked himself. That man, what in the hell happened when his parents brought him up? What did they do to him?

Shannon continued to look at the swirl of purple that is in the ground when his thoughts became a garbled mess that is in the ground, circulating into a vexation of a cloud that swirled and swirled. Shannon gathered in the swirl with his head cocked as he remembered his mother. His mother’s name is Norma and she lived to be seventy seven. She always had six packs of McClanton’s in her purse and she developed a cough before she died. She died in the most horrible way. What it was is that she developed a tumor in both of her lungs when she passed on. Shannon remembered what she looked like when she laid there in that hospital bed with her eyes half open, lying there in pain while her life is slowly draining from her. They jacked her up with any kind of painkiller to keep her out of it when she died being hopped up. Shannon didn’t forget what she looked like when the purple swirled over that dark pit with the purple forming a map in the air of something he couldn’t understand with the constellations that are sighted in front of him. When the purple swirled over the meteor, it flowed towards him, enticing his nostrils for a quick inhale when he breathed them in.

He scampered back to the house an hour later with the light still on in the living room. He stumbled into the house with his vision doubled, almost falling down onto the floor with the carpet not vacuumed as long as he can remember. He did a half slide to the bathroom to look at himself in the mirror, seeing his eyes that are discolored for a spell before he sees the hazel in his eyes again. He continued to look into the mirror before he stood up straight, sauntering out of the bathroom to go back into the living room with litters of newspaper all over the floor.

Shannon needed a beer and one so bad that he knows that he feels like there is a headache about to come onto him. He went to the kitchen to get another from the twenty-four pack that is chilled on the bottom shelf. He sat in the living room now with the television on. He covered up the meteor and put a stick in the ground when he sat there, wondering about taking it up to Albuquerque, New Mexico to be studied and then making a deal that will set him up good for a while.

Then he will make his next move as he continued to sit there with the light on, tuned to CNN that is now talking about a twenty-nine year old man who took a plane for a joyride. The plane ran out of fuel and it crashed, killing the man who was a bag carrier at the airline. The plane didn’t kill anyone, thank god when Shannon continued to drink his beer in silence as his stomach continued to rumble. He is awfully hungry. The only food that he had is the food from the Burger King this afternoon on country road twenty nine. He felt like he didn’t eat for the past year now when he tapped his sternum with his fist and burped a little, feeling the bubbles of the beer come up his esophagus when he wondered to the kitchen to fetch up some grub. He came to the kitchen with the light on the living room keeping him for company a little. He turned on the kitchen light as it filled the room up with all the junk he has. He looked around for his bowl that he kept earlier but plum forgot when he came to the cupboard to get the potato chips from the shelf. He gathered that and the sour cream when he came back to the living room, sitting down and un-foiling the bag that is curled up into a roll. He fished the chip into the sour cream and put it into his mouth when he tasted the sour taste of bedbugs, worms, and maggots in his mouth.

He spat it out with the crumbs hitting the floor. He pulled the rest from his mouth and dropped it onto the floor when he spat until his mouth is clean. He put the lid on the sour cream and closed it when he rolled the bag back up. The chips are barbeque and he never spat out barbeque chips out from his mouth ever in his life before. What is happening to him? What is going on? He sat there watching the television when his stomach grumbled. He gathered the chips and the cream and went back to the kitchen.

---

Cameron Watkins strolled down the road at a quarter to nine the next morning since we left Shannon Paulson sitting in his confusion. He is a man that sells what he can scrounge, making the shit shower like gold at the bottom end of his trunk bed that he is selling for outrageous prices. He kept his hand on the wheel of the car when he strolled down the streets, looking for anyone at home when he came up to this single-wide trailer that is busy falling apart in the middle of the desert. He climbed up the hill before pulling into the drive with the shocks squeaking on his old ’73 Ford, coming up near the side of the single wide where there is an old ’86 Monte Carlo SS sitting with the hood off and the distributor ripped from its holding. He got out of his Ford when a man came out of the trailer, holding a shotgun over his shoulder with a beard that goes down to his waistline.

“What ‘chu want?”

“Good morning, fine sir. My name is Cameron Watkins and I’m selling a bundle of chicken wire from the fine business by the name of Turney Creek Tractor and Trailer. Would you be interested for an unbeatable price of $8.99 a yard?”

The man with the beard looked at the truck considerably before he lifted the gun off of his shoulder, pointing the shotgun to the deck with his finger curled around the trigger guard.

“Does it look like I have any Chic-a-Dee’s on my stead, boy?”

“Well it seems that you might get some for your relatives – maybe your mother who likes to raise chickens and set up a chicken coop. That would be fine if you are willing?”

“My momma’s been dead for the past twenty two years. There is no family down where I live and I am not interested in any chicken wire. Now you just get back on that road and drive.” He pointed the shotgun back to the road.

“Well you don’t have to be so brash.”

“And I didn’t ask for your company. Do you see the ‘No Trespassing’ sign at the edge of the driveway?” He asked.

Cameron didn’t see any signs. He can’t even remember a sign from the road.

“Well no, I can’t rightly remember.”

“Then I’d advise you to get the hell off of my property and never come back. How is that for hospitality?”

Well, of all the low down scheming...

Cameron put his billed hat on his head and scurried back into his truck, starting it up and backing it out, making tracks when he is down the road and out of the man’s sight when he looked into the mirror. He is only trying to make money. He is not hurting anybody. He kept going when he didn’t see a sign of a house for the next fifteen miles. By the time he almost made a day of it, he sees a house on his left hand side. There is a tow truck sitting in the drive that has seen better days and a porch door that is slightly open. The ruts in the drive is about five inches deep that dropped in intervals when he carefully drove into the drive, being mindful of the shocks that are on the ’73 Ford when he drove in slow succession over the drive. He got near the house when he turned off the truck and bumbled out of it. He pulled up his billed hat off of his head and then put it back on his head when he started to walk to the house, looking over the place like it is a far cry from anyone living in this place.

There is a smell that is coming from the house when Cameron walked up the steps, putting his hand to his nose when he stopped at the top to knock on the door, wondering where in the hell that smell is coming from when no one answered the door.

He stood there in front of the door before backing up, looking around the place when he clamored down the steps as the smell got faint. He walked around the house when he felt a hitch hike in his boot. He stopped as he got halfway around the house to pull off his shoe to get the rock out of it, putting his shoe back in when all around him he can see is desert and nothing else. He continued around the back of the place when he arrived to a scene that is best unknowing to him. What he sees is something that he couldn’t contemplate when he sees a washer and dryer that are hooked up by a set of wires that crisscross. There is a television and it looks like it is brand new that is sitting on a table with the guts all over on the side of the box that is stripped for some reason. The backyard looks like a grotesque factory of technical horror when he backed up from it, not knowing that there is a shadow that dropped over him when he turned.

By then, he could do nothing else. The strength was too much for him when he is knocked unconscious.

When he came to, he found himself in a basement with dust and boxes that is stack higher than an average man. He sees a possible snake in the corner of the basement when the door opened from the stairs leading up when the stench came back to Cameron in full force. He couldn’t go anywhere with his hands tied behind his back from the trestle that is holding the ceiling above his head.

The man came down the steps, looking about six and a half feet tall with something wrong with his eyes and his face. What came from that face is a torrential force that is out of this world. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs when he thumbed towards the wall behind him.

“Is that your old Ford that is sitting in the drive?” The man asked him with his eyes all misconfigured. His voice is normal though. It doesn’t sound like a man who is ill at all.

“Good. I mind to take some parts off of it and see what I can whip up.”

“Whip up?”

“Yeah, it looks like I’m going away for a while.” The man slumped a little before walking into the basement, looking around the room with his eyes misconfigured and glowing. It looks like a man who is disgruntled, not knowing where he is going when he came to Cameron that is hunched down on the trestle with his hands tied behind his back.

“I’m fixing up something. I have the intelligence but the technology is too primitive. I have to find the right metal to conjure up what is necessary.”

Cameron didn’t say anything. He is too scared to say something. He started to fiddle the rope that is tied around his wrists.

“Have you ever heard of Trinium? There is nothing to be found on your trinkets on this planet. Is there any Trinium on this planet?”

“No. What in the hell is that?” Cameron bit his lip. He didn’t realize that he spoke before it is too late.

The man rolled his head back and laughed.

“Really; well that is too bad. It looks like a long shot for you little people here. Guess you’re going to be staying here for a while before suppertime.”

“Suppertime?”

“Yeah, suppertime; I have a hankering for some thigh meat.” The man smiled when Cameron looked at his teeth. They are not the teeth of humans. They are the teeth of sharks and nightmares, the teeth of animalistic predators.

Cameron felt like he is going to water on the floor.

Cameron looked up at the man when he started to fidget with the ropes around his wrists faster.

“I’ll be back down here before dark. So don’t you go anywhere?” He said when he bumped up the stairs again.

Cameron waited for his footfalls to cease on the ceiling above him when he worked on the ropes in fast succession. He didn’t know how long time ran when he continued to work on the ropes. The screen door opened and shut on the front door as Shannon walked out his house. The phone rung above Cameron’s head when he jumped with the ropes around his wrist; his fingers started to hurt from the length of time when he thought of his wife. His wife and he have been married for the past ten years when he lost everything in the downturn in ’08. He started peddling possessions (he bought for cheap prices) and sold them (he sold for outrageous prices) so they can keep their head above water.

She knew that he is a worthless son of a bitch. He hears it with the phone calls with her and her mother behind the closed door that his wife thinks that it is closed. She thinks about divorcing him when Cameron sat there on the dusty floor, wincing with the ropes biting into his wrists. He bent down on the ground with his eyes closed, wondering where in the hell is his cell phone?

That’s it; his cell phone.

Cameron opened up his eyes when he looked at his breast pocket of where his phone is. He hoped the bastard didn’t take his phone when he tried looking into his breast pocket when he brought his head down to touch his nose in his pocket. He didn’t feel any coldness there, not even the plastic of a cell phone when he came up with his head touching the trestle that is behind him.

“Shit.” Cameron looked at the boards that make the ceiling.

He kept working on the ropes that are tied on his wrist when the door to the screen opened and closed again. The boots clocked on the wood above his head when he jumped on the ropes a little more, hoping that they will move when he winced as he felt some blood come down the trestle.

That’s it. My own blood!

Cameron kept working on the rope with the blood bleeding into the ropes. He worked and worked the rope when the boots clocked on the far wall of where he is. Cameron worked harder, wondering what the condition of his truck is when he worked until one of his hands is free. He looked at the rub that turned into a blood blister when he kept the other hand in the rope. He didn’t want to leave. Not just yet when he kept quiet as he tip-toed to the boxes to see what he can use for a weapon. He opened the first box after carting it down, seeing nothing but a bunch of old VHS tapes when he grabbed the next box and opened it. What he sees in the collection of old trophies is something that wrapped around each and every finger when he looked at the brass of it.

He picked it out of the box and held it in his hand. He looked at it with the light failing out from the window when he looked at the brass and looked at it with clarity. He caressed it in his hand when the boots fell on the ceiling above him that serves the floor of the living room. He kept this in his hand when the boots walked in slow precession towards the door. Cameron tuck his fingers in the knuckles of the brass when he looked at it, feeling the coldness of it when the door opened and the boots came down the steps in slow speed. Cameron turned to the eyes that are disfigured with the brass in his right fist when the thing that was a man hissed.

“You will not leave here.” The thing warned him when Cameron got ready for the battle to begin.

---

He crawled up the steps with his back all clawed and his eyes looking at the deck of the kitchen floor. The thing that wanted to eat him is dead on the floor with the remnants of blood that leaked out of his ears, his eyes, and his mouth. What is left of his head is impaled by the blows that Cameron enacted when he got up the steps and sat there with his breathing becoming more and more intact. He looked at the darkness of the basement with his eyes searching, seeing nothing when he got up slow and walking through the kitchen with his feet crunching on something. He stopped and looked down when he eyed what looks like crystal on the floor of the kitchen, knowing nothing about it as it resembles no glass that is upon the floor. He looked at it for the longest time when he got up and left the house with his keys…Where in the hell are his truck keys?

But first, he has to check to see if his truck is alright. It is almost twilight in the land when he ran over to his truck, popping the hood latch and opening the hood when he looked inside with very little light to see. What he saw underneath the hood is no distributor cap, no engine fan, and no connectors that run to the battery. All that he sees is a bunch of wiring connected to something that he cannot see. He closed the hood when he gathered his thoughts.

What in the hell did he do to his truck? He left that alone when he gathered his courage to run inside the house to see where his truck keys are. They are not in the ignition when he went back into the living room to see many specks and diagrams that are posted all over the wall. The equations that look Greek to him are scattered all over the wall when Cameron sucked in wind. He looked at the dialectic language that is posted all over the walls when he thoughts of his wife. If the Feds found out, he will never see her again.

He knew about conspiracies and he didn’t see anything when he looked for his truck key and looked for it with sure speed. He looked over the papers that are scattered about. He pawed over the many assorted pieces of cardboard that serves trash. He stood over the garbage that is all over the room when he thought with his hairs coming up on his forearm. He had to go down back to the basement to make his assumptions proven.

---

He came back down with his feet coming off of the boards of the stairs. He smelled the sour stink of something ungodly coming from the man that looks like he is melting into the cardboard. He winced and twisted his face in disgust when he touched one pocket in his jeans and then the other one when he found his truck keys. He pummeled up the stairs and ran out of the house, going to his truck and slamming it closed when he punched in the keys and started up the truck. There was no sound when it happened. There is only the sound of an ominous whining when the instrument panels lit up in the dash. The truck lights came on when they did not come in with the color of flashlights but the color of blue LED lights that scoured the scene of desert in front of him.

Cameron threw himself out of the truck when the truck jumped up with the power of force that Cameron can feel. It is lifted in the sky as it grew higher and higher to the point that space is sucking it up when the lights on the Ford grew smaller and smaller with each passing second. The Ford rose over space and time of planet earth as it escaped it of its entirety, encompassing a life to the stars when Cameron started to laugh at his truck leaving for the moon.

He laughed as he collapsed on the ground, waiting for his sanity to come back when he kept thinking about his truck that flew into the sky to where, Planet X? He laid on the desert deck with his laughter turning over into a howl as a coyote joined him in his cries. The night came full tilt when he laughed until he can laugh no more. He rose as he started to walk toward the nearest town that is twenty seven miles from this house of where he is. The question is will he make it with no cars hardly on the road.

Will he make it? He didn’t know as he started to walk down the road when the wind started to pick the sand up.


© Copyright 2018 Adam Steele. All rights reserved.

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