Prologue
Warnings: Bad language, mild violence
On the outskirts of Arizona rested a little town that was unknown by some, notorious to others. Even to those who were aware of Strangetown’s existence, most of their knowledge was based on rumour and the oddity of the few inhabitants that didn’t bother to hide. It was through Strangetown that these people realised aliens really did exist; one such creature had not only come to live among humans, he had also settled and started a family with one.
Little was known about the others. There were three scientists living together, presumably brothers since they all looked fairly similar, one of whom with a swollen belly that was put down to an over-indulgent love for alcohol. There was an old lady seen occasionally, who was looking after a teenage girl that could be her daughter, and who owned a worryingly large graveyard. There was another scientist who lived with a woman in the medical profession, although rumour had it they were performing experiments on someone who stayed with them. Then there was perhaps the most normal family in Strangetown; an army general based in Nevada and a single father to three boys. No one knew what became of the mother, although the effect of her absence was apparent in some family members more than others. It was rumoured that the general was stationed at the fabled Area Fifty-one, but of course people had enough trouble proving the existence of such a place. Even if they were able to pin down this man and ask him, he would only deny any knowledge as people in power were wont to do.
On the edge of California sat a city, which although large in size was just as unknown by the majority of people. In fact it seemed to be a meeting place for all those small towns that no one had ever heard of. It offered an alternative for the citizens of these suburbs, as well as the schools that provided their education, although it was rumoured that alien life could be found there too. They weren’t completely wrong, either.
Youthful green eyes studied the droplets of emerald liquid upon the jade skin of his hand, which rose to dab at his nostrils as his gaze returned to the tanned, muscular form before him. The blond alien lad scowled as he studied the angry features of the brunette boy, whose eyes narrowed as his pink tongue darted out to mop up the trickle of crimson blood seeping from his bottom lip.
The green boy turned away, his nose wrinkled in disgust and anger. His eyes stung with tears of sadness, but he kept them in check as he made his way towards the watching black girl and the pale young man by her side, the latter suddenly calling out in alarm.
“Watch out Johnny!”
Johnny Smith turned at the sight of the rapidly advancing youth, whose blue eyes burned with anger as he raced forwards, teeth bared like an angered dog. Johnny waited for a moment then, as the bulky figure drew close enough, green hands roughly grabbed his shoulders and Johnny pulled them both to the floor, hurling the boy some distance away in a stomach throw. Expertly bringing himself to his feet a mere few seconds later, Johnny coolly eyed the tanned youth who lay disorientated for a spell.
“Fuck’s sake Tank, just give it a rest will ya?!”
Tank Grunt glared at the brunette boy a short distance from Johnny as he rose to his feet.
“Whose side are you on, Ripp?!” he challenged.
Ripp crossed his arms angrily, his larger blue eyes narrowed as he returned his gaze.
“I’m on the side that can look past the colour of someone’s skin,” came the biting reply, “The side that can think for themselves instead of listening to that bigoted father of ours.”
“The side that mingles with the enemy!?”
“They are not the enemy!” Ripp protested, “They’re a lot nicer than this family of mine, that’s for sure!”
Tank wore a bitter smile as he scoffed in reply, dusting himself off before he spoke.
“Geez Ripp, why dont’cha just move in with ‘em, huh?!”
“Hey, nice idea!” Ripp agreed sarcastically, “Why didn’t I think of that, huh? Sure would be a lot better than putting up with your shit all the time!”
Tank also crossed his arms as he dabbed at the cut on his lip, his manner subdued as he eyed his younger brother.
“You’re thinking about it, aint’cha?”
Ripp shrugged broadly in reply.
“What?” he answered, “You blame me? Mom had the right idea when she left.”
Tank rubbed the back of his hand against his stinging cheek as he contemplated his brother’s manner. Despite himself he felt a building sadness within as he struggled to process the meaning behind the words.
Johnny sensed his change in mood and slowly approached the figure, the stem of his green arm extending and blossoming into the flower of an open hand.
“Come on buddy,” Johnny pleaded, “We ain’t bad, hon...”
He was cut off by the swipe of Tank’s strong arm, and instinctively blocked the punch aimed at his face. Tank swung again and, after blocking once more, Johnny took advantage of an opener and a green fist connected painfully with Tank’s left eye. Before the larger of the two had time to react, Johnny delivered a kick to the abdomen and clutched a free wrist as he doubled over, flinging him to the ground.
“Lemme know if you ever change your mind,” Johnny told him with a casual bitterness as he walked briskly away from the fallen youth, not hiding the dismay in his face as he once more approached his waiting friends.
“Come on, let’s go before he gets back up.”
Ripp was the first to leave, striding ahead of the other two as the first of the tears began to trickle from his eyes.
He sat aboard the school bus with a heavy heart, brushing a long strand of brown hair from his face as he gazed dreamily out of the window. He never saw who took the seat next to him, but the weight felt by his side told him all he needed to know.
“Damn it,” Tank cursed as he nursed his throbbing eye.
“My heart bleeds,” Ripp remarked ironically.
“I don’t need your sympathy,” Tank bit.
“Good,” came the sour reply, “’Cause you ain’t getting any!”
“Do I ever?!”
“Nope,” Ripp replied simply, turning to face him with crossed arms, “Not when you’re taking out whatever shit you’re storing on the guys who least deserve it.”
“He’s alien.”
“He’s a nice guy!” Ripp protested, “He offered you the hand of friendship, and what’s the thanks you give him?!”
Tank remained silent as he folded his arms, grateful that their father would still be at work by the time they returned home.
Johnny and the dark-skinned teenage girl, whose name was Ophelia Nigmos, rose from their seats as their stop drew near.
“You coming Ripp?” Johnny asked as they walked by his seat.
“Wish I could,” came the reply, “But I’ve got work later.”
“Ah, okay,” Johnny acknowledged, breaking into a grin as he waved, “Have fun at the gas station.”
“Don’t I always?” Ripp smiled in reply. “See ya later.”
The brothers left the bus as it pulled over by their house, and Ripp watched with disdain as Tank marched on ahead towards the large residence before them. Ripp eyed the army-style obstacle course in their back yard bitterly as he dragged his feet towards the front entrance, letting out a heavy sigh as he reluctantly entered his dwellings.
Tank was nowhere to be seen, for which Ripp was very grateful as he climbed the stairs and made straight for his room, shutting himself away from the rest of the house before taking a moment to look about him, frowning as he sensed something amiss. His feet scraped the floorboards as though expecting something upon them, and pale skinned hands began to rummage in his bedside cabinets as though looking for something that had been misplaced.
“Knew it,” Ripp grumbled, retrieving a rock and metal magazine from within and angrily flinging it to the floor. “He’s done it again, the bastard!”
His ears detected similar music blaring from the stereo on the landing, and smiled wryly as he changed into his overalls and left to investigate. Sure enough, Tank was attacking the punchbag that sat near the weights machine, presumably taking out his anger at losing a fight on something that couldn’t defend itself. The music served as a welcome distraction to Ripp, as his hands began to tap on his legs while his head bobbed in time to the beats. Eventually the pull became too much, and he sat on the seat of the weights machine while twirling an invisible drumstick, before starting to play an imaginary kit and even singing to some of the songs.
Tank paused for a moment at the tuneful, at times aggressive, sound of his brother’s voice, and on turning to discover the source a glimmer of a smile pulled at his lips. He allowed himself a little chuckle as he mopped his brow.
“You goofball,” he teased knowingly, turning back to the bag.
“How’s your nose?” Ophelia asked, tenderly examining the area as they stopped outside a large house.
“Little sore, but it’s cool,” Johnny replied, “Why, is it still bleeding?”
“No, just asking,” she said with a hint of dismay. Johnny lowered his gaze, observing the lawn outside his home as he rested his hands on his hips.
“He’s a jerk,” she remarked, nursing his arm. Johnny flinched involuntarily at her touch, frowning as he rolled up the sleeve on his close fitting shirt and studied the chafed skin near his shoulder.
“Shit,” he cursed, angrily rolling down the short sleeve, “Thought I felt a sting from somewhere.”
“You okay?” she asked sadly.
“Yeah,” Johnny replied sourly, “Just pissed off.”
Ophelia ran her hands round his waist, pulling him into her arms. With a sigh he closed his eyes as they embraced, allowing her fingers to trace the stubble on the back of his head before running through the longer hair that sprouted from his crown.
“I just wanna be accepted by people,” he grumbled, “Is that too much to ask?!”
“I know,” she agreed, pecking his cheek. “Still, you got me and Ripp, good start huh?”
Johnny smiled in reply but remained quiet, his imagination plaguing him with desires he knew he shouldn’t have been having.
Having finally spent enough of his energy to halt his abuse of the punchbag, Tank stepped out of the bath and dried himself off, noting with a hint of anger the bruise that had bloomed along his rippled midriff. Sighing to himself he studied his features in the mirror, running a finger along the scratches on his cheek and under his swollen eyelid.
“Great, thanks a lot,” he muttered aloud as he retreated to his room, searching out a box that his father had given him years ago. Upon retrieving it he took it with him on a return journey to the bathroom, and opened up the container to pull out some camouflage paint. With practised precision he applied the colours to his face as he’d been shown many a time before.
Hoping there was still time before his youngest brother Buck finished school, he packed away the paints and tucked the box under his arm as he trotted back to his room, and after returning them to the inside of his bedside cabinet his eyes fell upon a magazine he’d bought once. His eyes grew sad as he fondly took hold of it and stretched out on his bed, scanning the cover of the science magazine before flicking through it. Deep down, although trained for an army life and even keeping his hair short, he wasn’t the fighter he had everyone think he was. The telescope in the back yard had been bought for Buck, but Tank enjoyed gazing out at the stars just as much, almost as if to wonder what lay outside the closed off world his father had mapped out for him.
The time seemed to fly by, and already the eldest of the boys was fixing dinner for not only Buck but also himself, deciding as always to leave the rest of the meal served and ready for the hungry workers when they returned. While they were still eating in fact, the familiar sound of the army jeep pulling up outside saw the little blond boy leave the rest of his plate to rush outside. Tank smiled wryly as he continued to load his fork.
“Ignorance is bliss,” Tank mused sourly, before voicing his next thoughts for extra reassurance. “Okay Tank, remember you’re the eager army cadet... you’re even wearing the colours this time,” he finished with a scowl.
A well built man somewhere in his early thirties strode into the building, clad in the smart uniform worn by the highest of the army ranks and still wearing his beret. Buck returned to the table as their father Buzz took a seat.
“Evening soldier!” came his greeting.
“Evening Sir,” Tank replied with a salute before returning to his meal.
Buzz scanned the face of the tanned youth for a moment as his beret landed roughly on the table.
“Getting into practice again are we?”
“Yes Sir,” Tank agreed with a smile, relieved that no more would be mentioned about the sudden appearance of face paint.
“Everything alright Johnny?” his alien father asked with concern, seconds before his blond mother Jenny opened her mouth.
Johnny merely sighed as he continued to prod at the food on his plate with his fork. Ophelia had since returned home to her aunt, leaving the family members to their evening meal.
“It’s Tank isn’t it?” Jenny checked.
Johnny looked at her with sorry eyes.
“It’s that obvious, huh?” he bit, forcefully loading his fork.
“Oh dear,” the aged alien mused with a sigh, “Like father like son, huh?”
Johnny gave a little snigger as he replied.
“Yeah,” he proclaimed triumphantly, “Kicked his ass, just like you did his dad.”
“The moves you’ve been displaying on that bag lately, I’m not surprised!”
Johnny arched a gleeful eyebrow as he munched on his food.
“Johnny, please,” his father complained, “Close your mouth while you’re eating!”
Johnny shrugged as he swallowed part of his food.
“How are things with Ophelia?” Jenny asked in a bid to change the subject.
Johnny masked his inner misgivings with a shrug as he swallowed the rest of his mouthful.
“They’re cool thanks,” he smiled, hoping it was enough to convince not only his parents, but also himself.
“Dad!!”
Buzz arched an eyebrow as he turned from the punchbag, mopping his brow before crossing his arms. Tank glanced across at him before sitting up on the workout bench, hastily descending the outside staircase as he passed his irate brother.
“Here we go again,” he mumbled as he left, enjoying the cool breeze of the evening air as it tickled his skin.
Ripp marched into the landing where his father waited patiently for the onslaught to commence.
“You tidied my room, again!” he snapped, “How many times...?!”
Buzz sighed angrily as he found himself once more in the same battle that had been waged countless times before.
“How many times must I tell you,” Buzz countered, “I will not tolerate a messy room! I constantly have to tell you to keep it tidy...!”
“And I’m constantly having to tell you I can’t stand a tidy room!”
“That’s not my problem, and this isn’t your house. Remember that Ripp.”
“That doesn’t give you the right to go through my stuff and put it places I won’t find it again!”
“Well, it’s up to you Mister,” Buzz told him, “You have the chance to clean it so I won’t have to.”
“You don’t have to!” Ripp exclaimed, “That’s just it! It’s my damn room; I should be able to keep it how I want...!”
“Your room is part of my house, and I’m the one in charge here buddy.”
“You’re not ‘in charge’,” Ripp growled, “You’re not at the base now; I wish you’d remember that.”
Buzz coolly eyed his middle son, who was showing the first signs of tears as he expressed his feelings on the matter.
“Are you crying again?” he tested.
“Go on, tell me you’re surprised,” Ripp bit, finding himself brushing a droplet of salty water from his cheek. “It’s like talking to a fucking wall.”
“Don’t talk back to me!” Buzz snapped, “And quit with the tears already; men don’t cry!”
“Don’t start that shit again!” Ripp snarled, “Everyone cries; it’s not a sign of weakness, it’s a sign that we’re hurting inside! When was the last time you cried, huh?”
“You’ll never be a man,” Buzz sneered.
“If being a man means being like you,” Ripp agreed bitterly, “That can only be a good thing.”
Buzz’s grey eyes narrowed with menace as they burned into the teenager staring up at him, but the young man was already leaving. As the door to Ripp’s room slammed shut, Buzz was left nursing his brow as a mixture of emotions ran through his being. Hate and anger made up only a little of the concoction brewing inside however, as he knew in his heart that the boy in fact was right.
Tank smiled as he mounted the tower in their back garden, watching the blond boy as he peered through the telescope.
“Hey Buck,” he greeted as he approached.
“Hey,” his youngest brother replied, “Nice night, isn’t it?”
“Beautiful,” Tank grinned, watching as Buck left the telescope and sat by its side. Accepting the invitation, Tank approached and took hold of the device, peering wistfully up at the night sky.
“How’s Orion looking tonight?” he queried casually as he pressed his good eye to the lens.
“You think there’s spaceships out there somewhere?” Buck asked dreamily.
“Oh yeah,” Tank replied, “Must be loads of ‘em.”
“So why can’t we see them?”
“This guy’s not strong enough,” Tank explained, “We’d need something bigger and more powerful for that.”
“Would Dad get us one?”
Tank smiled wryly as he answered.
“Not a chance,” he muttered, “Too risky.”
“Why?”
“The bigger telescopes work a li’l like a radar,” he explained, “Strong enough to pick up alien ships, but it means they’d sniff us out, too. It’s been known for guys like Pascal Curious to get taken away an’ come back not feelin’ right.”
“Pascal’s got something in his tummy,” Buck mused.
Tank frowned at his observation, before giving the matter some thought.
“Mm,” Tank pondered, “He’s been slowly getting bigger these past few months.”
“You think aliens put a baby inside him?”
Tank turned from the telescope, eyeing his younger brother with a puzzled frown.
“What makes you think that?” he asked.
Buck gave a shrug as he replied.
“Dunno,” he confessed, “Just the way he rubs his belly sometimes, like he wants it there.”
Tank began to rub at his chin as he realised he’d noticed the same thing. The boy had the freedom of a child’s imagination, while the teenager was left trying to break the chains of logic.
“He’s a guy though,” Tank remarked, “Guys aren’t designed to carry babies…”
“You think that’s why they take people away?” Buck suggested, “To put babies inside them?”
Tank slowly walked away as he chewed over the question.
“You could be onto something there,” he agreed, before giving a knowing smile, “Maybe that’s why Dad won’t upgrade our… your telescope.”
Buck watched his brother stretch out on the wooden deck as he went back to the equipment.
“It’s both of ours,” Buck reminded.
“Yeah, I know,” Tank replied, “Don’t want him knowing that though, do we?”
Buck left the apparatus to sit by his brother’s side.
“Why don’t you tell him you don’t want to be in the army?”
Tank sighed as he gazed sadly up at the stars.
“I dunno,” he admitted, “Don’t wanna disappoint him, I guess. Ripp totally rejects his views, and you’ve seen the amount they fight. They’re probably at it now, unless things have calmed down.”
Ripp slumped into his bed, his face damp from the tears he’d cried. He gazed out of the window from where he laid with pleading eyes.
“Where are you, Mom?” he whimpered, “I wish you’d taken me with you, even if we were cramped together in some trailer… it would have been better than what I have to put up with in this hell-hole.”
He brought the pillow back to rest on the bed as his head sunk into it, curling up his body on the bed as he listened for the sound of an outside door. As everyone wound down for the night, Ripp dried his face and began to hunt in his school bag, hoping that in his father’s tidying earlier, he hadn’t rummaged through that too.
On finding it hadn’t been touched, he heaved a sigh of relief as he pulled a box from his bag, and opened it to study its contents.
“Great,” he muttered, “Gonna have to get some more at some point.”
He opened the bedroom window, peering cautiously about for any sign of life. Satisfied that there was none, he clutched the cigarette between his lips as he leant outside, holding the flame of the lighter to it as he gazed out at the sparkling night sky. He continued to lazily eye the desert horizon as he worked down the cigarette, wishing above all else that the family he’d been born into could have been a normal one that respected each other.
On the outskirts of Arizona rested a little town that was unknown by some, notorious to others. Even to those who were aware of Strangetown’s existence, most of their knowledge was based on rumour and the oddity of the few inhabitants that didn’t bother to hide. It was through Strangetown that these people realised aliens really did exist; one such creature had not only come to live among humans, he had also settled and started a family with one.
Little was known about the others. There were three scientists living together, presumably brothers since they all looked fairly similar, one of whom with a swollen belly that was put down to an over-indulgent love for alcohol. There was an old lady seen occasionally, who was looking after a teenage girl that could be her daughter, and who owned a worryingly large graveyard. There was another scientist who lived with a woman in the medical profession, although rumour had it they were performing experiments on someone who stayed with them. Then there was perhaps the most normal family in Strangetown; an army general based in Nevada and a single father to three boys. No one knew what became of the mother, although the effect of her absence was apparent in some family members more than others. It was rumoured that the general was stationed at the fabled Area Fifty-one, but of course people had enough trouble proving the existence of such a place. Even if they were able to pin down this man and ask him, he would only deny any knowledge as people in power were wont to do.
On the edge of California sat a city, which although large in size was just as unknown by the majority of people. In fact it seemed to be a meeting place for all those small towns that no one had ever heard of. It offered an alternative for the citizens of these suburbs, as well as the schools that provided their education, although it was rumoured that alien life could be found there too. They weren’t completely wrong, either.
Youthful green eyes studied the droplets of emerald liquid upon the jade skin of his hand, which rose to dab at his nostrils as his gaze returned to the tanned, muscular form before him. The blond alien lad scowled as he studied the angry features of the brunette boy, whose eyes narrowed as his pink tongue darted out to mop up the trickle of crimson blood seeping from his bottom lip.
The green boy turned away, his nose wrinkled in disgust and anger. His eyes stung with tears of sadness, but he kept them in check as he made his way towards the watching black girl and the pale young man by her side, the latter suddenly calling out in alarm.
“Watch out Johnny!”
Johnny Smith turned at the sight of the rapidly advancing youth, whose blue eyes burned with anger as he raced forwards, teeth bared like an angered dog. Johnny waited for a moment then, as the bulky figure drew close enough, green hands roughly grabbed his shoulders and Johnny pulled them both to the floor, hurling the boy some distance away in a stomach throw. Expertly bringing himself to his feet a mere few seconds later, Johnny coolly eyed the tanned youth who lay disorientated for a spell.
“Fuck’s sake Tank, just give it a rest will ya?!”
Tank Grunt glared at the brunette boy a short distance from Johnny as he rose to his feet.
“Whose side are you on, Ripp?!” he challenged.
Ripp crossed his arms angrily, his larger blue eyes narrowed as he returned his gaze.
“I’m on the side that can look past the colour of someone’s skin,” came the biting reply, “The side that can think for themselves instead of listening to that bigoted father of ours.”
“The side that mingles with the enemy!?”
“They are not the enemy!” Ripp protested, “They’re a lot nicer than this family of mine, that’s for sure!”
Tank wore a bitter smile as he scoffed in reply, dusting himself off before he spoke.
“Geez Ripp, why dont’cha just move in with ‘em, huh?!”
“Hey, nice idea!” Ripp agreed sarcastically, “Why didn’t I think of that, huh? Sure would be a lot better than putting up with your shit all the time!”
Tank also crossed his arms as he dabbed at the cut on his lip, his manner subdued as he eyed his younger brother.
“You’re thinking about it, aint’cha?”
Ripp shrugged broadly in reply.
“What?” he answered, “You blame me? Mom had the right idea when she left.”
Tank rubbed the back of his hand against his stinging cheek as he contemplated his brother’s manner. Despite himself he felt a building sadness within as he struggled to process the meaning behind the words.
Johnny sensed his change in mood and slowly approached the figure, the stem of his green arm extending and blossoming into the flower of an open hand.
“Come on buddy,” Johnny pleaded, “We ain’t bad, hon...”
He was cut off by the swipe of Tank’s strong arm, and instinctively blocked the punch aimed at his face. Tank swung again and, after blocking once more, Johnny took advantage of an opener and a green fist connected painfully with Tank’s left eye. Before the larger of the two had time to react, Johnny delivered a kick to the abdomen and clutched a free wrist as he doubled over, flinging him to the ground.
“Lemme know if you ever change your mind,” Johnny told him with a casual bitterness as he walked briskly away from the fallen youth, not hiding the dismay in his face as he once more approached his waiting friends.
“Come on, let’s go before he gets back up.”
Ripp was the first to leave, striding ahead of the other two as the first of the tears began to trickle from his eyes.
He sat aboard the school bus with a heavy heart, brushing a long strand of brown hair from his face as he gazed dreamily out of the window. He never saw who took the seat next to him, but the weight felt by his side told him all he needed to know.
“Damn it,” Tank cursed as he nursed his throbbing eye.
“My heart bleeds,” Ripp remarked ironically.
“I don’t need your sympathy,” Tank bit.
“Good,” came the sour reply, “’Cause you ain’t getting any!”
“Do I ever?!”
“Nope,” Ripp replied simply, turning to face him with crossed arms, “Not when you’re taking out whatever shit you’re storing on the guys who least deserve it.”
“He’s alien.”
“He’s a nice guy!” Ripp protested, “He offered you the hand of friendship, and what’s the thanks you give him?!”
Tank remained silent as he folded his arms, grateful that their father would still be at work by the time they returned home.
Johnny and the dark-skinned teenage girl, whose name was Ophelia Nigmos, rose from their seats as their stop drew near.
“You coming Ripp?” Johnny asked as they walked by his seat.
“Wish I could,” came the reply, “But I’ve got work later.”
“Ah, okay,” Johnny acknowledged, breaking into a grin as he waved, “Have fun at the gas station.”
“Don’t I always?” Ripp smiled in reply. “See ya later.”
The brothers left the bus as it pulled over by their house, and Ripp watched with disdain as Tank marched on ahead towards the large residence before them. Ripp eyed the army-style obstacle course in their back yard bitterly as he dragged his feet towards the front entrance, letting out a heavy sigh as he reluctantly entered his dwellings.
Tank was nowhere to be seen, for which Ripp was very grateful as he climbed the stairs and made straight for his room, shutting himself away from the rest of the house before taking a moment to look about him, frowning as he sensed something amiss. His feet scraped the floorboards as though expecting something upon them, and pale skinned hands began to rummage in his bedside cabinets as though looking for something that had been misplaced.
“Knew it,” Ripp grumbled, retrieving a rock and metal magazine from within and angrily flinging it to the floor. “He’s done it again, the bastard!”
His ears detected similar music blaring from the stereo on the landing, and smiled wryly as he changed into his overalls and left to investigate. Sure enough, Tank was attacking the punchbag that sat near the weights machine, presumably taking out his anger at losing a fight on something that couldn’t defend itself. The music served as a welcome distraction to Ripp, as his hands began to tap on his legs while his head bobbed in time to the beats. Eventually the pull became too much, and he sat on the seat of the weights machine while twirling an invisible drumstick, before starting to play an imaginary kit and even singing to some of the songs.
Tank paused for a moment at the tuneful, at times aggressive, sound of his brother’s voice, and on turning to discover the source a glimmer of a smile pulled at his lips. He allowed himself a little chuckle as he mopped his brow.
“You goofball,” he teased knowingly, turning back to the bag.
“How’s your nose?” Ophelia asked, tenderly examining the area as they stopped outside a large house.
“Little sore, but it’s cool,” Johnny replied, “Why, is it still bleeding?”
“No, just asking,” she said with a hint of dismay. Johnny lowered his gaze, observing the lawn outside his home as he rested his hands on his hips.
“He’s a jerk,” she remarked, nursing his arm. Johnny flinched involuntarily at her touch, frowning as he rolled up the sleeve on his close fitting shirt and studied the chafed skin near his shoulder.
“Shit,” he cursed, angrily rolling down the short sleeve, “Thought I felt a sting from somewhere.”
“You okay?” she asked sadly.
“Yeah,” Johnny replied sourly, “Just pissed off.”
Ophelia ran her hands round his waist, pulling him into her arms. With a sigh he closed his eyes as they embraced, allowing her fingers to trace the stubble on the back of his head before running through the longer hair that sprouted from his crown.
“I just wanna be accepted by people,” he grumbled, “Is that too much to ask?!”
“I know,” she agreed, pecking his cheek. “Still, you got me and Ripp, good start huh?”
Johnny smiled in reply but remained quiet, his imagination plaguing him with desires he knew he shouldn’t have been having.
Having finally spent enough of his energy to halt his abuse of the punchbag, Tank stepped out of the bath and dried himself off, noting with a hint of anger the bruise that had bloomed along his rippled midriff. Sighing to himself he studied his features in the mirror, running a finger along the scratches on his cheek and under his swollen eyelid.
“Great, thanks a lot,” he muttered aloud as he retreated to his room, searching out a box that his father had given him years ago. Upon retrieving it he took it with him on a return journey to the bathroom, and opened up the container to pull out some camouflage paint. With practised precision he applied the colours to his face as he’d been shown many a time before.
Hoping there was still time before his youngest brother Buck finished school, he packed away the paints and tucked the box under his arm as he trotted back to his room, and after returning them to the inside of his bedside cabinet his eyes fell upon a magazine he’d bought once. His eyes grew sad as he fondly took hold of it and stretched out on his bed, scanning the cover of the science magazine before flicking through it. Deep down, although trained for an army life and even keeping his hair short, he wasn’t the fighter he had everyone think he was. The telescope in the back yard had been bought for Buck, but Tank enjoyed gazing out at the stars just as much, almost as if to wonder what lay outside the closed off world his father had mapped out for him.
The time seemed to fly by, and already the eldest of the boys was fixing dinner for not only Buck but also himself, deciding as always to leave the rest of the meal served and ready for the hungry workers when they returned. While they were still eating in fact, the familiar sound of the army jeep pulling up outside saw the little blond boy leave the rest of his plate to rush outside. Tank smiled wryly as he continued to load his fork.
“Ignorance is bliss,” Tank mused sourly, before voicing his next thoughts for extra reassurance. “Okay Tank, remember you’re the eager army cadet... you’re even wearing the colours this time,” he finished with a scowl.
A well built man somewhere in his early thirties strode into the building, clad in the smart uniform worn by the highest of the army ranks and still wearing his beret. Buck returned to the table as their father Buzz took a seat.
“Evening soldier!” came his greeting.
“Evening Sir,” Tank replied with a salute before returning to his meal.
Buzz scanned the face of the tanned youth for a moment as his beret landed roughly on the table.
“Getting into practice again are we?”
“Yes Sir,” Tank agreed with a smile, relieved that no more would be mentioned about the sudden appearance of face paint.
“Everything alright Johnny?” his alien father asked with concern, seconds before his blond mother Jenny opened her mouth.
Johnny merely sighed as he continued to prod at the food on his plate with his fork. Ophelia had since returned home to her aunt, leaving the family members to their evening meal.
“It’s Tank isn’t it?” Jenny checked.
Johnny looked at her with sorry eyes.
“It’s that obvious, huh?” he bit, forcefully loading his fork.
“Oh dear,” the aged alien mused with a sigh, “Like father like son, huh?”
Johnny gave a little snigger as he replied.
“Yeah,” he proclaimed triumphantly, “Kicked his ass, just like you did his dad.”
“The moves you’ve been displaying on that bag lately, I’m not surprised!”
Johnny arched a gleeful eyebrow as he munched on his food.
“Johnny, please,” his father complained, “Close your mouth while you’re eating!”
Johnny shrugged as he swallowed part of his food.
“How are things with Ophelia?” Jenny asked in a bid to change the subject.
Johnny masked his inner misgivings with a shrug as he swallowed the rest of his mouthful.
“They’re cool thanks,” he smiled, hoping it was enough to convince not only his parents, but also himself.
“Dad!!”
Buzz arched an eyebrow as he turned from the punchbag, mopping his brow before crossing his arms. Tank glanced across at him before sitting up on the workout bench, hastily descending the outside staircase as he passed his irate brother.
“Here we go again,” he mumbled as he left, enjoying the cool breeze of the evening air as it tickled his skin.
Ripp marched into the landing where his father waited patiently for the onslaught to commence.
“You tidied my room, again!” he snapped, “How many times...?!”
Buzz sighed angrily as he found himself once more in the same battle that had been waged countless times before.
“How many times must I tell you,” Buzz countered, “I will not tolerate a messy room! I constantly have to tell you to keep it tidy...!”
“And I’m constantly having to tell you I can’t stand a tidy room!”
“That’s not my problem, and this isn’t your house. Remember that Ripp.”
“That doesn’t give you the right to go through my stuff and put it places I won’t find it again!”
“Well, it’s up to you Mister,” Buzz told him, “You have the chance to clean it so I won’t have to.”
“You don’t have to!” Ripp exclaimed, “That’s just it! It’s my damn room; I should be able to keep it how I want...!”
“Your room is part of my house, and I’m the one in charge here buddy.”
“You’re not ‘in charge’,” Ripp growled, “You’re not at the base now; I wish you’d remember that.”
Buzz coolly eyed his middle son, who was showing the first signs of tears as he expressed his feelings on the matter.
“Are you crying again?” he tested.
“Go on, tell me you’re surprised,” Ripp bit, finding himself brushing a droplet of salty water from his cheek. “It’s like talking to a fucking wall.”
“Don’t talk back to me!” Buzz snapped, “And quit with the tears already; men don’t cry!”
“Don’t start that shit again!” Ripp snarled, “Everyone cries; it’s not a sign of weakness, it’s a sign that we’re hurting inside! When was the last time you cried, huh?”
“You’ll never be a man,” Buzz sneered.
“If being a man means being like you,” Ripp agreed bitterly, “That can only be a good thing.”
Buzz’s grey eyes narrowed with menace as they burned into the teenager staring up at him, but the young man was already leaving. As the door to Ripp’s room slammed shut, Buzz was left nursing his brow as a mixture of emotions ran through his being. Hate and anger made up only a little of the concoction brewing inside however, as he knew in his heart that the boy in fact was right.
Tank smiled as he mounted the tower in their back garden, watching the blond boy as he peered through the telescope.
“Hey Buck,” he greeted as he approached.
“Hey,” his youngest brother replied, “Nice night, isn’t it?”
“Beautiful,” Tank grinned, watching as Buck left the telescope and sat by its side. Accepting the invitation, Tank approached and took hold of the device, peering wistfully up at the night sky.
“How’s Orion looking tonight?” he queried casually as he pressed his good eye to the lens.
“You think there’s spaceships out there somewhere?” Buck asked dreamily.
“Oh yeah,” Tank replied, “Must be loads of ‘em.”
“So why can’t we see them?”
“This guy’s not strong enough,” Tank explained, “We’d need something bigger and more powerful for that.”
“Would Dad get us one?”
Tank smiled wryly as he answered.
“Not a chance,” he muttered, “Too risky.”
“Why?”
“The bigger telescopes work a li’l like a radar,” he explained, “Strong enough to pick up alien ships, but it means they’d sniff us out, too. It’s been known for guys like Pascal Curious to get taken away an’ come back not feelin’ right.”
“Pascal’s got something in his tummy,” Buck mused.
Tank frowned at his observation, before giving the matter some thought.
“Mm,” Tank pondered, “He’s been slowly getting bigger these past few months.”
“You think aliens put a baby inside him?”
Tank turned from the telescope, eyeing his younger brother with a puzzled frown.
“What makes you think that?” he asked.
Buck gave a shrug as he replied.
“Dunno,” he confessed, “Just the way he rubs his belly sometimes, like he wants it there.”
Tank began to rub at his chin as he realised he’d noticed the same thing. The boy had the freedom of a child’s imagination, while the teenager was left trying to break the chains of logic.
“He’s a guy though,” Tank remarked, “Guys aren’t designed to carry babies…”
“You think that’s why they take people away?” Buck suggested, “To put babies inside them?”
Tank slowly walked away as he chewed over the question.
“You could be onto something there,” he agreed, before giving a knowing smile, “Maybe that’s why Dad won’t upgrade our… your telescope.”
Buck watched his brother stretch out on the wooden deck as he went back to the equipment.
“It’s both of ours,” Buck reminded.
“Yeah, I know,” Tank replied, “Don’t want him knowing that though, do we?”
Buck left the apparatus to sit by his brother’s side.
“Why don’t you tell him you don’t want to be in the army?”
Tank sighed as he gazed sadly up at the stars.
“I dunno,” he admitted, “Don’t wanna disappoint him, I guess. Ripp totally rejects his views, and you’ve seen the amount they fight. They’re probably at it now, unless things have calmed down.”
Ripp slumped into his bed, his face damp from the tears he’d cried. He gazed out of the window from where he laid with pleading eyes.
“Where are you, Mom?” he whimpered, “I wish you’d taken me with you, even if we were cramped together in some trailer… it would have been better than what I have to put up with in this hell-hole.”
He brought the pillow back to rest on the bed as his head sunk into it, curling up his body on the bed as he listened for the sound of an outside door. As everyone wound down for the night, Ripp dried his face and began to hunt in his school bag, hoping that in his father’s tidying earlier, he hadn’t rummaged through that too.
On finding it hadn’t been touched, he heaved a sigh of relief as he pulled a box from his bag, and opened it to study its contents.
“Great,” he muttered, “Gonna have to get some more at some point.”
He opened the bedroom window, peering cautiously about for any sign of life. Satisfied that there was none, he clutched the cigarette between his lips as he leant outside, holding the flame of the lighter to it as he gazed out at the sparkling night sky. He continued to lazily eye the desert horizon as he worked down the cigarette, wishing above all else that the family he’d been born into could have been a normal one that respected each other.