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ENCOUNTERS: PROLOGUE

Imagine for a moment modern society itself undergoing a social paradigm shift and the cause be something so seemingly trivial, that no one would even give it a second thought. For the sake of being mean spirited we will make this cause something common place in our own daily lives and is already well documented as being among the leading causes of so many accidents today. Additionally, we will craft a chain of events in this prologue that end up being the catalyst for the aforementioned social paradigm shift. At the end of this prologue you still might find it unlikely that such a chain of events could ever occur and you might be right. But then consider one crucial element that has gone unnoticed for centuries as the actual cause of most accidents throughout human history itself. People do indeed allow themselves to get distracted and quite often it is at the most unfortunate moment as well.

CAUSE

Meet Mason. A rather average looking slim teenager who has a fixation on wearing his green stocking cap all the time. His height is no more than 5 feet 10 inches and would be fortunate if weighed more than 140 lbs. He is not a skinny boy by no means. Packed onto his lean frame is firm muscle tone from being someone that is rather active in outdoor activities and even enjoys being exposed to the wonders and beauty of nature. His complexion is not much to make him stand out in a crowd. That is if he lived among other taller kids of Asian heritage. The hair on his head that very few people ever see in its entirety is the expected black color and has been allowed to grow out into a bit of an unkempt mop, kept secured under his prized green stocking cap. In contrast to the hair color, he has hazel eyes.

Mason is frequently seen wearing rather basic looking clothes and has no ambition at this point in his life to wear anything else. His rather small collection of t-shirts are all pretty much variations of a rather limited earth tone color palette. His pants are always blue soft fabric baggy denim jeans, that are kept secured with a black belt from the same store he always buys his shirts and jeans. His generic hiker boots match the belt of course and frequently have trace grass clippings from his singular source of independent funds for his own things. Being someone that loves the outdoors, Mason has always loved doing yard work. To him it is not so much about the work, but just being outdoors and taking in all the sights and smells nature has to offer.

However this kid is not quite as boring and basic as you might think. Utilizing his learned prowess for managing his own funds, Mason like any other teenager is a owner of his own portable electronic device that he purchased for himself. It is his connection, via a standard telephone service plan, to everything that is happening to the world outside his small country town. Like with most teenagers, he sometimes has trouble pulling his focus away from the device and keeping it on what he is doing. We can only hope he is striving to get better at not being so distracted and not end up in the daily news reports as yet another bad accident causing statistic.

Now to focus on what Mason is doing today, which so happens to be mowing a rather large 10 acre front lawn for a rather sharp looking but unassuming modern two story brick building at the edge of town. This happens to be one of Mason's favorite clients that hired him for lawn care services. No flowers or decorative shrubs to fuss with or avoid with the supplied riding mower. Just cut the grass, then trim around the building and its numerous mature maple shade trees scattered across the lawn. He always leaves trimming along the brick footing of the steel perimeter fence until last, but makes sure to trim the rest of the property first. Its just his special way of doing the job.

Mason is currently cruising along the final long strip of grass to be cut and already looking forward to lazily trimming along the perimeter fence, while thinking a little too much of what part of the surrounding woods he wants to explore next this evening after finishing the current job. One of Mason's favorite things to do in the woods is scavenger hunt for little trinkets to exchange via the program application on his little portable phone device tailored towards such outdoor activities.

Usually he is content with just waiting until all the work is done, before opening the program in anticipation of new goals that will show up on the location map today. The temptation becomes too great and he swiftly grabs the phone from the pocket near the knee on his right leg and deftly with just one hand opens the application. Although it was mere seconds, it was enough. The naive kid did not even notice the set of keys that lay hidden in the very last patch of uncut grass he is now finishing. Just as he was about to close the app and disengage the mower deck blades... he heard the unmistakable sound of strong metal mashing against and mangling weaker metal, just as the suction picked up the keys and then the blades grabbed them for an accelerated projectile launch right out the grass exhaust on the side. He then heard the projectile make contact with metal again as it hit something at the building. However the sound did seem a bit muffled to him. As if the metal it hit was... inside.

Mason hurriedly put the phone back into the pocket and did his best to get the lawnmower powered down and into transport mode, before driving back into the storage shed at the property back corner as swiftly as he could. He then locked the shed and immediately ran for the building, so worried he may have broke something. The rattled boy was cursing under his breath as he finally made it back to the building across a equally large 10 acre shaded back lawn. Once he made it to the front corner he drove past, he stopped to catch his breath and then heard something that made him hesitate to inquire about the origin point of the crashing sound. Just around the corner was an open window and out of that window he heard a familiar voice finally speak after the sound of gushing water stopped.

"Fuck me man. Why did this have to happen today?"

Mason recognized the voice. His heart began to sink a bit. A head then popped out the window.

CHAIN OF EVENTS

Meet Brian. He is one of these people you meet that gives you the impression he is someone that owns his life. Most everything that has ever happened to him has been beneficial to the life he lives. People in his small town look at him and like to think that given the right opportunity. He could become something special. Might as well use that brilliant 120 IQ for something.

Brian on the outside is a typical teenage American small town boy. The blond hair and brown eyes, along with a slightly squarish jaw line and normal proportioned facial features, gives him a face a mother could love. He also had a rather nice slightly dark tan that made his hair seem like it was almost glowing in the sunlight. Speaking of the hair... nothing except for his own hands and water ever touch it. He always kept it a short 1 inch and styled so the whole top part stood perfectly straight up. The sides and back he simply kept buzzed down to the scalp. His overall body mass and stature is equally average, if not a tad on the husky side. Although the boy is only 5 foot 8 inches, he frequently demonstrated he is pretty strong for his size and thus why he was on the wrestling team at the local high school. He was also surprisingly heavy and solid for his size at a weight of 180 lbs. Of course the girls loved him and he loved the attention, but was a bit of a heart breaker via his rather old fashioned dating standards. Nothing ever went beyond a dinner and kiss.

Although this kid doesn't have much in the way of actual materiel fixation, save for his own phone of course, he does have a rather strong obsession with horses. Everything that exists on the planet and is written or filmed about the animals, he has likely read and watched or plans to do so soon. Unlike Mason, Brian at least has a little broader taste in clothing and is frequently seen in casual urban outfitters stores that usually have the word Eagle or American somewhere in its name. He also refuses to have any footwear that isn't Wolverine. In contrast to this, the kid considers himself something of a nudist and is completely free of his clothes whenever opportunity allows for it.

When it comes to work, he is all about computers and electronics. Brian was fortunate enough to get a job at a place just at the edge of town that was annexed by the United States Air Force a decade ago. He simply maintains the servers and troubleshoots any issues that occur within the network for the building. It pays good and gets him much needed professional experience he can use at other jobs.

Speaking of the pretty boy overachiever, lets check in on him. Brian had just cleared the front gate at the same place where Mason works and is driving his Jeep up to the parking area on the side of the sharp looking brick building. He parks at the spot furthest towards the back of the building, then jumps out and retrieves his stuff from the back, but not before he catches site of Mason mowing the back lawn in the distance and waves at him. Fortunately for Brian and his work the weather today isn't hot yet and actually a little cool for early Summer. Good thing. He received a text from security officer on site that the AC will be down for repairs the whole day. That explains seeing all the huge full length windows being open all around the building. Looks like it will be one of those days of keeping constant cool air moving through the server room with very big shop fans. Oh joy.

Brian waves his lanyard at the silver block by the side service door and then proceeds to walk through and deposit all his stuff in trays at the security checkpoint desk inside. Once clear of the checkpoint he makes his way right down the main hall to his office at the opposite end of the building's main floor. Greeting and saluting select individuals in military fatigues along the way. He looks briefly out the open window down the hall and sees Mason just beginning to move along the fence outside, towards the front lawn. He then opens the office door and deposits his stuff just inside, before going back down to the center of the hall for the elevator to the second floor. Lanyard activation required. Once on second floor, he exits the elevator and walks right across to another silver box guarded entry. Server Room. He goes inside and quickly does a system status check at the access terminal tray he pulls out of a nearby server. Everything looks Okay. He looks directly to the side and sees that the present and active shop fans are doing their job with keeping the ventilated room at a tolerable 65 F. It was smart to have the server room placed on the north side of the building. He then wraps up his hour long system check with required digital log report and exits server room for the elevator and his office.

Brian exits the elevator and immediately hears the faint sound of something heavy smack against something metallic in a office somewhere. Other sounds of metal mashing with metal echoes throughout the hall. Thinking it best to make sure it didn't happen in his office. He begins to walk a little brisk in its direction. He notices other people ducking into their open doors and making sure it wasn't at their own. Brian makes it about halfway to his office and notices Mason's lawnmower drive by the open window at the end of the hall at a rather brisk speed.

He decides it is best to get to his office as soon as possible and check for any damage as well. Every door he passes yields audible confirmation that so far no one had suffered any damage... which only makes him more concerned and persistent about getting to his own office. Brian makes it to the door just as he hears the far off sound of the lawnmower engine stop. Now there is one other sound that soon motivates him to force himself inside as fast as possible, allowing the door itself to smack against the wall behind it. He gets immediate confirmation about the sound. What was once an organized short rack of electronic components and equipment along the same wall, was now a toppled tangled mess of wire shelving and broken electronic equipment, as well as the end of a fallen busted metal water pipe still connected above at the other end and gushing water all over the tangled mess under it.

The sound of fast approaching foot-falls against the fresh cut lawn can barely be heard in the distance outside the open window over the gushing water, as he begins assessing exactly what to do with the toppled mess that did indeed manifest in this office. Mason is a fast runner and thus will be here soon enough for what will hopefully be a good explanation about what exactly happened.. Fortunately primary power to the offices on the ground floor had been temporarily shut off yesterday due to some undisclosed essential circuit upgrades being made in the building. Brian turns swiftly halfway around to a brief squeaking sound being made behind him, as a fast thinking security officer finishes flipping the big wall mounted cut-off lever for the ground floor service water line into the off position. The water stops immediately and its sound is swiftly replaced by those same faint foot-falls arriving and then stopping, only to be replaced by a few quick hard breaths.

Brian was at a loss as to what exactly needed to be said.

He looked straight down at his feet and noticed a set of oddly bent and warped keys laying on the floor in front of him. What on Earth would bend keys in such a way? Then after squatting down to pick them up for examination and seeing nasty scars in the metal, it occurred to him what may have actually done this to them and thus the actual cause for the mess in his office. While keeping a hold of the keys, he sighed and stood back up, while continuing to just stare at them. Brian wanted to be utterly pissed at Mason... or someone... but accidents do happen. Even strange ones like this.

"Fuck me man. Why did this have to happen today?"

Realizing what the next obvious step was and being careful to not slip on the wet tile floor, he cautiously made his way to the open window and quickly ducked his out the window, before turning his head and looking right around the corner... locking eyes with Mason, before thrusting his hand with the warped keys out the window to briefly rattle them in the open air.

"You need to seriously come inside the building and explain how these keys managed to fly into my office with enough force to dislodge a water pipe."

"What? Seriously?" was all Mason could say in disbelief.

"Come see for yourself." Brian replied with a mixed look of worry and confusion on his face.

"Alright." Mason just shrugged and then walked up to the nearly ground level window ledge.

Brian stepped aside a bit and offered a hand to Mason for stepping up and over it.

"Be careful. There is water everywhere." he advised after helping Mason inside.

"Whoa, keys did all this?" Mason asked while looking at the mangled soaked mess.

"Yeah, just these keys."

Brian held them up and rattled the keys to get Mason to look away from the mess and right at him. His peripheral vision caught site of people gathering outside his open door behind the security officer who shut off the water. The officer quickly turned around and told them the show was now over and get back to work. The crowd dispersed quietly, as the officer looked back at the boys to smirk before following the crowd away from the office. Mason noticed the smirk.

"Are we in trouble for this?" He asked Brian.

"Not really. But this is a secured site operating under the direction of a research division for the United States Air Force. An accident did occur and procedure demands an incident report be filled out in full detail about what exactly happened. That officer you saw at the door was the first security staff member on site to witness this mess and will likely be the one we will be talking to, while he fills out all the required details we both will be giving him. So please try to start thinking very clearly about what you remember. It will make time spent in the security office a little shorter for both of us."

"Jeez. Sorry for ruining your day. I really am."

"Hey. We just need to focus on the report and then come back to clean up my office."

"I suppose I can do that much. I did kind of cause this to happen."

"No worries. Lets get to the security office now."

Brian looked Mason right in the eyes and gave him a warm smile before patting his shoulder. Mason returned the warm smile, proceeded to carefully lead the way around the tangled wet mess and out the office into the hallway.

As for the mess itself. This is where we proceed to the next link in this chain of events and meet our next chosen participant in this developing situation. Although the water was shut off and prevented from causing a minor flood on the ground floor, it did mange to find its way into a small flawed area along the wall under the window ledge. Something obviously missed by a contractor too rushed to be concerned with such a seemingly insignificant detail. We are about to find out just how significant it actually is as the water exploits this quaint little opportunity to seek a path to follow. A path that leads into the main research area in the secured basement of this very same building. We will also soon find out that nothing is 100% secured, as this water did indeed find a new path in the form of a crack in the concrete wall of the basement. A crack easily gone unnoticed for a while due to being effectively concealed by a few stacks of storage containers.

These particular containers themselves are wooden crates and are about to become the second inanimate participant in this chain of events, contributing it's own efforts to cause another accident. You see. People throughout time tend to be careless when rushed or pressured too much on a job and even soldiers doing basic grunt work tend to occasionally get careless. Although they should really know better. One such soldier is the one that just finished stacking these wooden crates and for whatever reason did not bother to notice the water that has begun to trace a small path from the crack, along the overhead concrete ceiling, to stop just above the crate recently put in place by the soldier. The water begins to pool and is about to start dripping and resume a new path and destination. Due to regulations requiring underground structures to have adequate floor drainage in times of flooding, the crates themselves are certainly not setting perfectly level and the water takes advantage of this by traveling to one corner and then sliding all the way down to the floor at its destination. Now gravity simply takes over and a small shallow puddle begins to form. Nothing too big. But just enough to be of use to what is about to occur next.

Meet Tom. He is a young man just one year beyond Air Force Academy graduation and already a Lieutenant. He is grateful to be of service to his country in light of not being immediately sent off to a combat zone. Not that he isn't afraid to fight. It is simply that nothing has come up yet for him to get transferred to such a place. This boy also has plans to make the Air Force his new life long career. Of course those plans did not include taking an assignment in his own home town. But orders are orders and as you will later find out in proceeding paragraphs, fate usually has plans of its own and cares nothing about the ones we make or follow on our own.

As a person Tom looks fairly normal enough with his dark brown hair and green eyes. The mild tan of his face serves as a nice backdrop to facial features that are nearly perfect in placement and size. He stands at 5 foot 10 inches and is a solid healthy 180 lbs. This happens to be a rather ideal body type for the standard military fatigues he is wearing today. Aside from the fatigues and rank pins on the collar, his sidearm and MP armband is the only other indicator that his function at this particular site is indeed security. All this aside, the role he is about to play in the following string of events will make everything he has learned seem completely useless. After all. No one is really prepared for a real accident. That is why they are called accidents to begin with.

Tom however is not alone down here. The other occupants of this completely open and rather huge light gray room, that is nearly the building's entire basement, are a couple military officers and a few civilian scientists. All of them are currently at the far opposite end and huddled around a small cluster of electronic equipment mounted on metal rolling racks as tall as them. This cluster in turn is linked to various little boxes, the size college textbooks, spaced evenly along the circumference of a very large vertically standing metal ring. The ring itself is kept securely in the vertical position and suspended off the floor with what appears to be two very large mechanical arms, each mounted to a very thick column. These two columns run in pairs every 12 feet along the full open length of this room. They are pretty much the only thing obstructing Tom's view of this interesting setup, from where he is standing with the storage crates. The view itself is well lit with a solid line of light tubes running the full length of the room along both walls. Just behind the metal ring and in the corner is a open steel cage service elevator big enough to fit a car in. The boy is so focused on what is happening in the distance, that he fails to notice the developing situation near his one boot, as the aforementioned puddle of water is now changing and becoming polluted with what seems to be oil, as it begins to expand like all newly formed puddles usually do. The moment is upon us as Tom begins to focus more on the conversation in the distance. Things seem to be getting a bit tense as one of the scientists begins to raise his voice and point a finger to the one officer in dress uniform and cap. The other officers nearby in standard fatigues remain in place. Tom is thinking that maybe firm security presence might be needed and decides to inquire about what exactly is happening across the room.

The moment he then proceeds to step forward towards the tense conversation, the puddle near his foot reacts to gravity and shifts a bit and expands right under the foot coming down. Tom reacts fast, but not fast enough and sprawls backwards into the wooden crates behind him. The slightly water weakened material splinters and shatters under his weight and through a odd sequence of shifting movement flips the Safety off. Just as gravity shoves him hard into the collapsing mess, a metal rod contained inside shifts and flips upward, catching the holster release and then snagging the grip of the sidearm. Tom twists his torso to avoid getting punctured and unwittingly gives the released firearm all the open room it needs to get catapulted into the air, before slamming back down hard onto the concrete floor upside down. The gun itself happens to be pointed in the general direction of the equipment cluster. The force of the fall triggers the internal firing pin. Good training and reflexes motivates the officers at the other end to swiftly jump and cover the scientists while pushing them to the floor. The released bullet pierces the front panel, belonging to one equipment rack and triggers what can only be assumed to be a startup sequence. One can only draw such a conclusion as the ring begins to start humming at a low frequency and the attached boxes become animated surfaces of twinkling lights. The sound of his own gun firing immediately gets Tom's attention, and motivates him to begin swiftly pulling himself up onto his hands and knees out of the shattered mess. He looks directly ahead to the group of people on the floor and sees that they all seem to be okay, as they begin helping each other up off the floor. They jointly begin brushing each others clothes off. Tom is finally on his feet and shouts in their direction.

"Is everyone OK? Are any of you injured?."

"No." became the unanimous response from each one of them as they wave back at him.

"Everyone seem to be just fine." the officer in dress uniform adds in response.

"Good. I'll radio for help to come down and clean up this mess behind me." Tom shouts back.

Just as he turns back around to the ruined crates and reaches for his radio, a scientist screams.

"No no no no no no NO!"

Tom spins back around on his heals with radio in hand and watches a little scene unfold.

The scientist that was pointing his finger in anger earlier is now frantically touching the racks.

Another scientist appears to be completely froze in place and refuses to move... shock maybe?

The rest are running around the metal ring and performing a rushed examination of the boxes.

The officer in the dress uniform has pulled out his phone and is now talking with someone.

The humming sound from the metal ring begins to increase in volume and changes in pitch.

The same officer then points at the other officers, then points at the scientists and elevator.

They nod and then move quickly to escort the frantic protesting scientists away from the ring.

Tom is then given a rather hard stare by the officer in dress uniform, before one word is yelled.

"Evacuate!" Experience guides Tom's thumb across the radio's numeric keypad

Tom then raises the radio to his mouth and issues the evacuation order.

"Code White! Code White! Evacuate the site! This is not a drill! I repeat. Not A Drill!"

Only two seconds pass and his exact sentence on the radio is repeated over the intercom.

He is now running towards the officer in dress uniform, to escort him out of the room to safety.

The elevator is already in motion and on its way up. The caged emergency stairs are next to it.

Tom spots them and swiftly escorts the remaining officer on the phone towards them.

The humming has now raised in volume and pitch to deafening levels, as they begin the ascent.

"Understood, Sir!" was heard from the officer on the phone just as they made it to the exit door.

They exited the stairwell, just as the elevator stopped and opened.

Scientists and technicians were being promptly escorted past them and out the back fire doors.

Tom recognized his friends Mason and Brian swiftly walk past him in the organized rush.

Everyone could barely hear each other as the deafening hum could now be heard upstairs.

The building started to subtly shake and vibrate a little, while dust began to manifest and fall.

Just hearing the metal superstructure of the building begin to groan in protest, was enough to finally motivate the basement research group to leave the building right behind the last of the occupants from the upper floors. Tom couldn't begin to imagine how this situation could get any worse. Instead he simply focused on making sure all the visiting officers were back in their transport Hummer. After closing the passenger door for the officer he escorted up the stairs, he whirled around on his heals to the sound of protesting fatigued metal increasing in volume. A strong wind began to stir and blow around the structure. Then he looked around the wall and saw the big open windows begin to swing wildly, before slamming shut and shatter. He hit the ground and rolled under the Hummer right away to avoid the raining glass from above the vehicle. Once he was certain there was no more falling glass, he then rolled again and got to his feat just outside the driver side door. He gave the driver a firm look.

"Get these officers out of here now!" he yelled over the increasing deafening hum.

"Sir! Yes Sir!" was the immediate response, before the engine roared and the vehicle sped away.

He then turned to face the line of six black armored Oshkosh SWAT trucks.

Everyone was actually cooperating rather calmly with the loading procedure.

At that point the wind had begun to blow a little harder and pick up speed rapidly.

The lighting outside began to dim quickly, just as a crackle of thunder was then heard overhead.

Tom looked up and saw nothing but layers of low storm clouds gliding swiftly overhead.

A soldier from the next truck hopped out of the passenger side of the cab and ran up to him.

One quick survey past the approaching soldier showed the evacuation was almost done.

All he could do was look at the soldier and ask the obvious.

"Great. First the building is trying to tear itself apart. Now a thunderstorm is rolling in!?"

"I know, Right!?" replied the soldier. "We are just about loaded up. Just give the word.!"

Tom just nodded and grabbed his cap to keep it from blowing away in another wind gust.

The other soldier did the same, then turned to run back and hop into his cab.

Tom squinted and did one last visual check of the loading procedure.

The last of the site occupants was finally being helped into the back of the very last truck.

The assistant officer briefly disappeared and then reappeared with a thumbs-up.

The thunder crackled again. Only this time you could feel it in your chest. It was time to leave.

Tom nodded and then gave the fender of the truck just to his side a couple of taps.

He then raised his radio to his mouth, after hopping inside his cab, and gave the word.

"Everyone get secured nice and tight. We have a bumpy ride ahead of us into town."

Tom then reached forward to tap on the dash twice, before looking at the driver and pointing towards the open gate. The driver hesitated a bit, before shifting the idling truck into gear and stepping on the gas firmly. The tires slipped a bit and then grabbed the pavement with a brief squeak, before propelling the armored diesel powered beast into motion. Just as the truck convoy clears the gate and begins making its way towards the site perimeter, marked with a big white sign designating it as property of United States Air Force, he hears the local Tornado warning siren sound off. He then hears the officer he escorted earlier over the CB radio in the cab.

"We already made it into town and getting everyone we can into the storm shelter. We need an ETA on your arrival once you are free and clear of the site."

Tom grabbed the CB handset and took one deep breath.

"The convoy just cleared the gate and we are only 1000 feet from site entrance. Give us about 10 minutes Sir and we will be there.

"10 minutes. Any longer and you guys will just have to find your own way to ride the storm out. 10 minutes. No longer." came the reply.

Tom was about to confirm the communication, when something caught his eye at the edge of his peripheral vision, just as the truck made the turn towards town. He simply stared out the window.

First the cloud movement over the building began adopting a circular pattern.

At the center of the circle, the sky began to get very dark and swirl even faster.

The clouds themselves began coming to life with ripples of electrical charge back lighting them.

The shade trees began waving in an odd direction, as if wind was blowing up from under them.

Then the roof of the building began coming apart, with debris flying right up at the dark center.

The trees then began tearing apart, offering their branches to the hungry darkness above.

Tom turned his gaze towards a very confused driver and met his gaze.

"We need to move this overweight tin can faster." was the immediate order.

The driver nodded and shifted again, before the beefy diesel engine roared with protest.

"Sir. We will be there in 5." was the response he finally gave back over the radio.

"Fine. Fine. What exactly changed your..." the words just trailed off from the other end.

An absolutely humbling and deafening crunching sound was heard, along with a little tremor.

Tom looked again before the truck got to the approaching tree canopy of the road ahead.

The building itself was now coming completely apart and being sucked up into the darkness.

What was left of the trees began lifting out of the ground.

The surrounding ground began coming loose and lifting up into the air as well.

It was as if gravity no longer had control at that location.

Tom just turned his gaze back to the road ahead and hoped the approaching trees would remain.

There was some wind gusts pulling at the truck, but nothing like what was happening at the site.

He put the CB handset back in place and raised his own radio up to his mouth very closely.

"Keep the speed and just drive. We will make it." was his calm command to the convoy.

Once the convoy was inside the tree canopy, the gusts were not felt nearly as much.

Both him and the driver spotted the big white decorative town info sign ahead.

They just looked at each other and smirked... then the ground below lurched just slightly.

Their smirk disappeared swiftly, then was replaced by confusion and then concern.

They both looked ahead and watched as the tree canopy ahead began tearing away.

"Convoy stop. All stop!" was Tom's immediate command into his own radio to the convoy.

On reflex he thrust his arm forward as the driver slammed his foot down hard on the brake.

The convoy came to a stop just as the ground began to lurch much harder this time.

The road along with the disappearing tree canopy ahead of them tilted slightly to the side.

"Lieutenant? I don't..." static "...-line at edge of town." was all they heard on the CB radio.

The ground under the truck started to shake, as a crack formed in front of the road sign.

The crack then rapidly widened and extended across the road, consuming dirt and trees.

The sign for the town didn't have a chance and just fell right into the open gap.

Enough of the tree canopy had been cleared to let them see unreal devastation in action.

The town buildings closest to them in the distance were being completely torn apart.

Tom got the most awful sinking feeling in his stomach. He reluctantly grabbed the CB handset.

He then turned his head and shared a look of utter defeat with the driver, before speaking.

"Sir. I don't think we will make it." was all that could be said.

The only reply on the radio was constant static. Yeah, that was probably pointless. Conditions outside the truck convoy had deteriorated rapidly. Almost all the trees around them had been removed and the wind gusts were back with a furious roar that overpowered the tornado alarm siren. The trucks themselves did remain on the ground, but began rocking with the combined assault form the wind and ground tremors. The rocking got a bit more violent. Eventually all the trees were gone and now both of them, along with whomever else in the convoy dared to look, could see the jagged terminating edge of the ground their trucks sat on. Beyond that edge was nothing but air filled with flying debris. There was a brief very severe tremor from the ground that threatened to force them into the floor board. It was followed by a deafening crunch and then the tremors faded abruptly. The wind also died rapidly.

The answer as to what was happening became obvious very quickly, when the overall ambient stormy dull gray illumination started to get darker fast. Tom and the driver dared to hunch down a bit and try to look upward through the truck's windshield, to get a better view of what was happening. What they saw was humbling beyond words. The darkness that had consumed the site building and trees was now obviously over them as well, about to consume them. Which meant they were actually moving up towards it. It was mutually decided the best thing to maybe do was just return to their upright seating position and simply wait to see what happens next and prepare for the worst. As they ascended further, the terminating edge made of charged storm clouds gave way to the darkness. The illumination in the cab soon started getting quite dim. The darkness then started to change and soon stars became visible just above the terminating edge. The cabin then started to get cold.

A deafening crunch that sounded like rock hitting metal was heard behind them. The sound was a bit muffled but still loud. Tom's radio came to life with mild static, then a mix of agitated voices and obvious interruptions from soldiers trying to calm everyone down. At this point he was grateful that it was just him and the driver in the lead truck, along with extracted critical hardware from the site. Eventually a calm voice was heard on the radio again.

"Sir. We just lost two trucks in a collision with... well... it looked like a satellite. Sir."

"Repeat that last reference again." Tom requested after a long sigh.

"Confirmed. It was definitely a satellite. I am looking at it right now. Or what is left of it."

"So where are the trucks?"

"Well. That is the weird part."

"Weird how?" Tom sighed again and looked at his driver with annoyance.

"Well Sir. They were knocked off the ground and somehow sent spinning into the air."

"How far away did they travel before crashing back down to the ground?"

"That is the actual weird part, Sir. They are still spinning in the air and moving away from us very fast. I don't think we can retrieve them. Wait. The trucks are no longer in site. Confirmed. They are no longer in site. No offense, but we need to get off this huge moving rock as soon as possible"

"Why the urgency?"

"We can see a couple more satellites following the same rough trajectory, Sir."

"Can you be certain we are in their path."

"Confirmed. We are definitely in their path."

Tom slumped forward a bit and also saw small fireballs beyond the cloud edge. If he didn't know better, it looked like all the satellites in orbit were falling. This was not good. He straightened back up and began tapping his forefinger on the radio, while observing the formation of ice crystals outside the glass of the windshield and the appearance of his breath in the cold air of the cab. He then moved his gaze slowly across the features of the cab, looking for some sort of inspiration for an exit strategy. Then it manifested in the form of the bright yellow and black striped handle resting firmly against the cab roof. The red tag on it was marked DEPLOY CHUTE. He looked at the driver and just grinned, before pressing the call button on the radio.

"I need everyone of you in the front of the trucks, to look towards the middle of the roof on your cab and confirm there is a DEPLOY CHUTE lever mounted to it."

The response was unanimous from all the trucks.

"DEPLOY CHUTE lever is confirmed."

"Very good. Those chutes are our way out. Everyone follow my truck and drive off the edge of the rock. Be sure to leave enough space between each other to allow adequate room for the chutes to deploy properly. Pull the lever just as your truck reaches the edge. No sooner. No later."

"Could you confirm that again, Sir. We are driving off the rock and parachuting back down?"

"Unless you have a better idea, that is exactly what we are doing. It is that or...death."

There was a long pause. "Ready when you are, Sir."

"Oh and one more thing. Step on it."

At those last words, Tom put his radio into a pocket and proceeded to secure himself in the five point harness installed for the modified SWAT trucks. His driver secured himself and began giving the gas pedal a few priming pumps. They both just closed their eyes and took in the noise while taking a few deep breaths. Just as they opened them, they nodded to each other and the driver put the truck in gear, before pushing down firmly on the gas pedal one more time. The truck lurched forward a bit, as the engine whined and roared with protest. The SWAT truck was swiftly back up to normal cruising speed and right at the edge.

"Here we go." Tom said to no one in particular and pulled the lever.

A mild ruffling sound was heard, as the front wheels left the ground.

The truck began to tilt forward slightly, as its momentum moved the rest of it clear of the edge.

The engine roared again as the wheels left the ground.

The driver swiftly took his foot off the pedal and turned the ignition off.

Just as the moment of weightlessness was felt, a louder firmer ruffling sound was heard.

The weightlessness quickly dissipated, as they were roughly pulled down into their seats a bit.

Rattling could be heard outside the cab as tension was swiftly applied to the parachute harness.

The entire chassis of the truck creaked and groaned with protest as the chute filled with air.

There was another brief lurch, as the chute successfully begun its job of braking the fall.

Tom and the driver bounced a bit in their seats with the braking.

The truck itself leveled itself out, as they began the descent back to the ground.

They could hear other engines roar above them and then cut off, as they counted.

One.. Two... Three... Four... Five. Good. Didn't loose anyone else yet.

At this point the trucks had descended enough to begin reacting to the wind they left behind.

It was still tearing everything apart and begun to batter the truck. It was also getting noisy again.

Tom swiftly grabbed the radio out of his pocket and pressed the call button.

"Everyone hang onto something and brace for a rough ride. There is still a tree eating wind storm back on the ground and we are going right back into it."

"Will do, Sir." came the unanimous response.

Tom pocketed the radio again and was about to close his eyes when an extremely bright flash filled the sky and swiftly became the only thing they could see. It was best to close their eyes now. The brightness was so intense that it could be felt. Both of them feared that it would penetrate their own eyelids if it increased any more. Then just as quickly it had manifested, it disappeared with a single very loud thunder.

The noisy environment outside the cab dissipated almost instantly as well.

The truck stopped lurching in a rough wind that was no longer there.

Tom opened his eyes to see a normal calm skyline and sprawling carpet of trees in the distance.

Soon their line of sight was level with that of low flying airplanes.

Directly ahead of them was the scattered remains of the town Tom called home.

No trees around it anywhere. Just in the distance.

The truck then lurched as it made contact with the ground again.

The parachutes came down next and cascaded down around the trucks, with a soft ruffling.

Other trucks could be heard touching down as well.

Then came the distinct sound of many uprooted trees hitting the ground.

Then came the crushing sound of a few boulders hitting the ground as well.

Then...

Nothing?

There should have been a lot more than just a few boulders coming back down. A lot more.

Mason and Brian were the first ones to venture getting out of their truck through its back door. Considering it was nearly wiped out with the other two trucks, they simply couldn't wait to get out of the vehicle the moment they felt it touch the ground again. The door made a soft rubbing sound as its edge glided along the fallen chute material. They could hear the distinct sound of doors being opened on the other trucks in the convoy and felt more confident about seeing what was outside the chute. Mason went first and was greeted by the two officers from the truck cab, ready to lend anyone assistance out of the truck. Brian was right behind him and followed Mason as they made their way to the edge of the chute. Bright blinding light briefly flooded in as they lifted it together and then quickly dimmed to the humbling view just outside of it. Neither one of them could bring themselves to move.

The ground fell away at a distance no further than two of the trucks put together.

The entire site where the building used to stand no longer existed.

In its place was a perfectly circular crater with some sort of floating white object in the middle.

The object appeared to be the size of the site building and floating level with their line of sight.

The crater itself had the appearance that it was made with a giant ice cream scoop.

Mason and Brian could both hear some soft rhythmic hum coming from the object itself.

The humming itself was very soothing and felt like they were experiencing a warm hug.

"Want a closer look?" came a voice just to their left and made them jump a bit.

Neither one realized how transfixed they had become with the object. It was Tom.

He was holding up a pair of rugged looking binoculars.

Both showed signs of being flushed with embarrassment, as Mason took them from Tom.

Closer inspection through the binoculars revealed the object to be in the shape of a sphere.

There was also clear signs it wasn't actually glowing, but possibly metallic and reflecting light.

Mason handed the binoculars over to Brian, just as static started coming from Tom's radio.

The static then cleared up and a familiar voice could be heard.

Tom immediately recognized it belonging to the officer he escorted out of the basement.

"Any officers with a working radio, please respond." Tom swiftly responded with his.

"Lieutenant Tom Henderson checking in, Sir."

"You have no idea how good it is to hear your voice again Lieutenant. Is the convoy intact?"

"Aside from loosing two trucks, the convoy is intact and no serious injuries reported."

"Two huh. When can you mobilize and finish the trip into town... or rather what is left of it?"

"Give us an hour. Have yet to pack the chutes back into the cargo pouches."

"Had to use the parachutes did you? Should be an interesting chat, once you get back here."

"You have no idea, Sir."

"Keep me posted if anything changes. Meanwhile we will be doing damage assessment here."

"Sounds like a plan. See you soon, Sir. Lieutenant Henderson out."

"Tom. You better have a look at this." Brian suggested as he handed the binoculars back.

Tom took the binoculars and looked right at the object Mason was pointing at. It started to shimmer in the sunlight and very slowly rise towards the sky. Increased magnification of the binoculars revealed the surface to be dimpled. It appeared that the metallic object had begun to spin and the rate of rotation was increasing rapidly.

The rhythmic humming had now changed in pitch and dropped an octave.

Everyone could now feel it pulsing through their bodies and massaging them in an odd way.

An ambient heat then began to expand through the muscles, forcing them to completely relax.

Just as their bodies went limp, an unseen force took hold and began lifting them off the ground.

"Would someone mind telling me what..." Mason's words just simply cut off.

There was a very intense bright flash and then total darkness.

The only thing that was felt was the warm comforting embrace of simple unconsciousness.