The cars pulled into a field next to the silo. It was tall with weak tin roof softly clattering in the wind. The barn next to it was a poor red, leaning more to a putrid brown that blended into a maroon in the pink light of the head lights. Theodore rubbed his forehead. He was low on sleep, the past three days he had been running nonstop. He wished he still had Eollx in his car, nibbling on pie crust as they drove halfway to Salt Lake City by now. He looked over at Mr. Apex. Apex’s hands shook and jittered as he held his ten-gallon hat in a vice grip. Theodore tapped him on the shoulder.

“Bill has your medication?”

Apex nodded.

“Sort of. They just keep me frommmmm...JJJJJust get them out of his pocket.”

Theodore looked in the back seat. Even though Bill was sitting bow-legged in the back seat, nothing had slipped out of his pocket. He turned his focus back to the front seats. Apex’s heavy sweat returned, slowly dripping down his neck. The loud sound of a rifle tapping against the driver’s side window caused both of them to jump. Jackson stood outside, motioning to both of them. Theodore nodded and they obeyed. As Theodore stepped out of the car, he could again feel the cold wind whipping down through the plains. The whooshing and whipping sound of the wind made him feel he was even closer to his doom. Jackson poked him in the back with the barrel of the rifle.

“Let’s go.”

Theodore looked over to Apex, who was dragged out of the car by two more of the Rose Project soldiers. Both men were gripping his neck and supporting his shoulders. Jackson pushed open a small rickety door in the barn. The bottom of the door had been splintered or whittled down through time. The hinges were rusty and bent, leaving only a faint little bit of metal between the door and the swirling gusts of wind. Theodore stepped through the door into the dark. The slow whine of the wood creaking against the wind made him worried that the whole barn was about to tumble on his head. Two of the Rose Project soldiers pushed past him, dragging an unconscious Bill and tossing him carelessly on the ground. Theodore slowly moved toward him, trying to look through his coat, to see where the medication would be located. Before he had gone three steps, he could feel the pressure of fingers on his collar. Turning back, he met again with Jackson’s rifle barrel. Jackson released him and pointed to the wall.

“Stand over there, don’t move.”

Theodore moved himself flush with the wall. He could feel the weak old wood pressing against his back, the splinters jabbing into his coat. As the more of the Rose Project soldiers came into the barn, they began stumbling over one another, looking for a light. One of the soldiers clicked open a lighter, holding the weak flame in the darkness of old, dry, wooden barn. Theodore moved slowly, keeping his back flush with the wall until his feet were close to Bill’s head. He slowly sank to the dirt floor, grabbing small bits of soil and hay as he crawled over to Bill who was still breathing heavily through his nose, although gurgling with each breath. Theodore felt around the coat, digging into each pocket trying to find the pills. As he reached inside the coat pocket, he could feel the roughness of each pill in the soft lining of the jacket. He reached further, slowly pulling out a handful of pills. Before his hand could leave the jacket, the barn was lit with the light from a dusty oil lantern. One of the soldiers had found it, lighting the barn in a weak orange glow. Jackson glared at Theodore. He snapped his fingers and two of the soldiers followed him over to Theodore. Lifting him up, they slammed him into the side of the barn as Jackson struck the metal butt of the rifle into his ribs. Theodore bit his lip, holding his breath as the pain seared over him. The soldiers released him and let him drop to the floor. Jackson leaned down next to him.

“Next time you to don’t listen, I break something. Stay down.”

Theodore nodded, sinking to the floor as Jackson turned back to his men.

“I’m a gonna get the broad on the horn. We need a sit down.”

Jackson walked out of the barn, heading back to the cars. Theodore smiled to himself as the pills remained firmly clutched in his hand. The soldiers dragged Apex over and set him next to Bill. His shaking continued, coughing and slowly drooling out of the right side of his mouth. Theodore cupped his hand over Apex’s mouth, slowly pushing the pills down his throat. Apex spit a bit and slowly tapped Theodore’s wrist reassuringly. Theodore nodded and returned to his position against the splintery wall.

He watched as the Rose Project soldiers frantically lit more oil lamps and began moving a large wooden table into the center of the barn, brushing the hay off the wood. Grabbing crates and hay bales, setting them around table. Theodore held his breath. It was likely if Clinton was coming, that he would not be able to explain things to him and the story would likely find its way back to the Old Man. He adjusted his coat, replacing his fedora safely back on his head. Apex sat up, his hands seeming steady as he scooted himself next to Theodore, brushing the sweat from his collar.

“Relax,” he said softly.

“Trying,” Theodore responded weakly.

“If the Rose Project is going through all this work to make us afraid, then it is likely they don’t have our otherworld friend. And if they don’t have her then that means that is something we can use.”

“Why do they want her anyway? She’s just a scared girl far from home.”

“Who told you that?”

“She did.”

“Then she lied.”

Theodore bit his lip, frustrated at the insinuation.

“You didn’t see the look in her eyes. She is scared and just wants to go home. Wherever that is.”

Apex sighed, readjusting his back.

“Ask yourself Theodore, would the US government go through all this trouble to get one stray little alien girl back? Chester himself would have shot her in the dark, burned her body, and you would be right along with her. There is a reason that no one has killed you over this. She may not remember but trust me, she’s worth more than anyone else on Earth.”

“The Widow didn’t mention that.”

“No, I wouldn’t have expected her to. Trust me though. She knows and she isn’t going to stop until she has her again.”

Jackson returned to the barn. Tossing his coat on a bale of hay, he clenched the machine gun tight in his fist.

“Everyone is on their way, so it might be a bit, so let’s all get comfy. Sam, Dick, grab the meathead and tie him up in the corner, I don’t need him lumbering around. You two don’t move. I see either on of you get up, you’ll be joining Bill for a nap.”

Theodore and Apex both nodded. As two men grabbed Bill and dragged him to the far corner of the barn tying him up with the leather straps on the wall, Theodore leaned over to Apex quietly whispering.

“May I bum a cigarette?”

Apex shook his head.

“Had to quit. They added to the shakes. All I am relegated to is a handful of pills and glass of wine every once in a while.”

Theodore nodded and continued to stare forward. The room was quickly filled with the smell of smoke as several of the soldiers began to light cigarettes. That combined with oil lamps’ occasional spark flicker made Theodore slightly uneasy. His attention was broken as he heard the sound of a car engine and the clacking of metal over the sandy rocks as it left the main road, popping small rocks as it rolled up to the barn. From under the rotted slates Theodore could see the dusty pink glow of the headlights, giving him a sick feeling that it was more of the Rose Project, possible even Clinton. Jackson pushed open the door and nodded as two shadows pushed their way through the door.

First through was a woman, short in stature, wearing a red coat and black riding skirt with long laced black boots. Her hair was vibrantly strawberry red, styled up. Fastened to her belt was a long-handled hatchet that hung down to her knees. She looked over at Theodore and Apex, slowly clicking her tongue against her teeth as she did. Close behind her was man in a wheelchair being pushed by Jackson and third man. The third man looked pale, almost ghostly, with a thin black receding hair line. The man in the wheelchair looked nearly dead. Boils and sores covered his hands. His hair matched the woman’s, though larges patches of gray had mixed in, making it seem muted. His lip was covered in a bushy red and gray mustache that hung over his lip further than necessary. Jackson and the other man rolled him behind the table, so he faced the entire room. As Theodore and Mr. Apex stared at the man, their concentration was shattered by the splintering sound of the axe cracking into the table.

“Ef anyone want gawk at ma husband they can do it with one eye. Show da man some respect!”

Her rough language sliced through her thick Scottish accent. Both Theodore and Mr. Apex turned their heads to the woman.

“Now where’s da Widow, I don’t want to spend any longer in dis dung filled hole than I have to.”

Jackson came and stood next to her.

“She said she would be here soon.”

“Typical,” she growled.

The low sound of another car rumbling outside caught everyone’s ears. The red-haired woman clicked her tongue, spiting slightly on the ground.

“Boy! Make shure ma husband anit droolen up all over da place,” she snapped.

The pale looking man quickly wiped the drool slowly leaking out of the corner of the man’s mouth. The door opened, revealing the Widow, still adorned in black with long stiletto heels that dug into the dirt. She sighed.

“The Scots. How are you Ticker?”

“Dat is not ma name Widow!”

“Neither is Widow but it’s accurate…Ticker.”

The Widow reached under her coat and produced her flute, setting it on the table next to the hatchet as well as a small silver derringer. Slowly brushing off the hay on a crate and dragging it across the dirt to the table, she crossed her legs as she sat down.

“Aye lass dig those shawp heels of yurs into the dirt. We agree all weapons to be out on the table so it ither the dirt or the table.”

The Widow sighed, leaning her heels back, pressing the sharp points deep into the dirt.

“Happy?”

“Aye.”

The Widow head up her hands.

“Well you called this meeting. I’d prefer to call it a ransom hearing, but I feel I would be outnumbered.”

Ticker began pacing behind her husband, slowly kicking up bits of hay as she walked.

“Da Rose Project has been tracking yur little rebellion against the Old Man. Ya must know dat this secret was gonna get out eventually. How long till the Old Man himself is starting at you face to face, maybe in barn not so different dan dis? Spouting treason charge after treason charge. Not to mention da Russians. My people tell me a group Yetis touched down in Denver tonight heading out here. Or maybe the Japanese. Seattle customs flagged some Mecha heading east and this is all just the terrestrials. Gotta hand it to ya lass you did good job for half a day. But now we are losing time before she’s back in chain,s having her brain scrambled by that shining teeth bastard. I don’t want dat and you don’t want dat. Let my boys flush her out, we can get her to Texas. I assume dat is where you were taking her?”

The Widow shifted uneasily on the crate.

“I hadn’t decided.”

“Did you consider what would happen if her Da found out? You haven’t forgotten about him hav ya…gorgeous?”

The Widow growled under her veil.

“Go to hell Ticker.”

“Later, but right now I got no intention of helping you out. That gangly gray creature is our ticket out of this shit infested state. So ither you help us, or you can stay here while my boys scour the plains lookin for her. I think I might even tip off the da Old Man and watch as all of your hopes are dashed away.”

The Widow dug her heels deeper into the dirt. She sighed as a stream of white light filled the barn, piercing through the panels. Everyone rushed to the door. Theodore leaned his head back and peered through a small slat in the wood. Off in the distance was a bright white light shining out of the earth. Ticker clicked her tongue and laughed, rushing back to the table and yanking the hatchet from the wood.

“Tie her up with the other two. Seems our little runway is trying to get home. Head her off.”

Jackson caught her arm.

“What about the commander?”

“Leave him for now, that light can’t be more than four miles away, we’ll be back before he even knows we’re gone. Move!”

The Rose Project soldier dragged the widow over to Theodore and Apex, binding them together. Rushing out of the barn quickly, the soldier kicked up the dirt and hay, slamming the weak wooden door, letting a burst of the howling wind into the barn. It met the lantern, tittering it before it fell from the table onto the hay, cracking the glass as it did.