Angels of the Quantum Gate by William David Hannah

Author:William David Hannah [Hannah, William David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: William David Hannah
Published: 2013-09-26T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13 - THE DOME

I never saw any sight of a Drake, or an alien, on subsequent trips to the Drake place. I inquired as to the status of the land. Technically it was still owned by Drake’s family, but nobody knew where any of them were. So it sat in limbo, forgotten by anyone but me. Then winter came, along with cold and rain, and I stopped going over there.

I wondered if the hunter was still around and what it was doing for sustenance. I was careful to keep everything secured, especially at night. I didn’t want any surprises, but I didn’t want to live in terror either. I tried to encourage friends and neighbors to be vigilant, but without being able to give them a reason, they seemed only interested in humoring me. Crazy Don, they all thought. They included Sue.

The first snow came. It was uncommon around Grover, and I went out to admire the thick, fluffy blanket that actually was wet and slushy. I scooped some soft, wet ice into my hands and compressed it into a ball…and thought of when I first saw the dark scoop in my cornfield. Could it have been compressed likewise by giant hands of forces that would make it smaller and smaller, and denser and denser, so that it would become too small to function, becoming at last a black hole, or a wormhole to nowhere, or maybe a tiny pixel, that would lead everywhere?

I looked for tracks. What would hunter tracks look like anyway? Did they punch holes into the snow while stepping, or rake the snow while scurrying? Would they make a wholly unfamiliar pattern?

The full moon shone brightly on the snow at night. The snow itself was refreezing into ice in the cold night air. There would be no tracks. The hunter could slide. Would it freeze?

The daytime brought no signs of a frozen alien body, not at my farm and not at Drake’s place when I was finally able to get there in my truck. But it was easy to see through the vegetation now, and to traipse through the slush into areas I had not been before.

And then there was a payoff. A shell. Or perhaps a dome. A small flattened hemisphere about the size of my truck. It was patterned in gray and white, almost invisible against the background of snow and branches. Did I dare approach it? I wanted to see what it felt like. To know what it was made of.

I impulsively stepped toward it.

The air itself is poison.

Was that a thought? Or did I hear it. I felt myself drawn toward the object. It was even more invisible. But it seemed to shimmer ever so slightly.

I tried to walk away, but all I did was turn to one side. Then I side-stepped toward the object. Slowly, but I couldn’t resist. My left hand reached out. It touched the object. Three fingers were touching it. They were held there. I had no will to move them.

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