A Side Story - Roswell Run: The Odyssey of Private Tom Sullivan - Chapter One - Part One

The New Mexico desert lay quiet under the blanket of night, its vastness only interrupted by the flickering lights in the distance. Tom Sullivan gripped the steering wheel of the military jeep, his heart pounding as he drove further into the desert.

Tom Sullivan was a young Air Force private who was barely eighteen, with a lean build and short-cropped sandy-brown hair. Standing at six feet tall, his sharp blue eyes missed nothing, reflecting a mix of alertness and fatigue. His uniform was now in disarray, soiled and creased, due to the harrowing escape.

Tom had just helped Ms. Marlowe, and her students, escape from the base with Zeta, the alien whose crash landing had set off a frenzy of military activity. They were safely out of danger now. But that kiss still lingered on his lips. Boys did not kiss other boys, yet it felt so right.

*To catch up on this previous adventure of Ms. Marlowe and her Time Sleuths check out the blog - Roswell 1947.

The young man had made a quick stop to staunch the bleeding of his passenger. His under shirt had come in handy. Tom’s resolve was unwavering. Those gentle, alluring almond-shaped eyes were hard to resist. He had to help the little guy. Suddenly a name popped into his head. Zeta. Yet no words have been shared between them.

The alien's translucent skin was dimming. Blood—or something like it—seeped from the bandage on its side. Tom’s sense of urgency intensified. The little guy needed more than his torn under shirt.

With a quick scan of the horizon, Tom spotted an outcrop of rock that offered some shelter. He pulled the jeep behind the rock, turning off the engine and listening intently for any signs of pursuit. The desert was eerily silent, but he couldn't shake the feeling that danger was lurking in the darkness.

"We'll be safe here for a while," Tom whispered to Zeta, hoping to reassure both of them.

He climbed out of the jeep and carried the small alien to a flat patch of ground beneath the rocky overhang. Working quickly, Tom tore more strips from his under shirt to further bandage Zeta's wound, trying to remember what little first aid that he knew.

He went back to the jeep to search for something else to help. His eyes lit up coming across a water flask under the front seat. He guzzled some of the content before taking the water back to the alien. The creature seemed to suck the life out of the flask seeming to reduce it to a shrunken, twisted shape. Yet whatever the little guy had done was making his skin lighten up. He looked a lot better.

Tom could hear a low humming in his mind getting a sense of gratitude through their shared link.

With the wound stabilized, Tom took a moment to assess their situation. He knew they couldn't stay here forever. Eventually, someone would come for them.

Tom couldn't help but think back on the events leading up to this moment. And that kiss he had shared with Jake. It was a moment of unexpected connection and vulnerability. The memory lingered, a reminder of the complexity of his situation and the forbidden emotions he was grappling with.

"Your mind is troubled, Tom. There is a storm within you."

The young man was startled. The voice just seemed to appear in his mind. He sat cross-legged across from Zeta, the alien's luminous eyes studying him with curiosity.

Tom hesitated, "It's just...this world, my world...it's not kind to people who are different."

Zeta tilted his head, his words once more filling the man's mind, "On my planet, we do not see such differences as barriers. Love and connection are not bound by such limitations. We have grown above such mindsets just as your planet will do in the future."

Tom blinked. It was the first time he felt a sense of understanding and acceptance for who he was, without judgment or fear. "So, you don't think it's wrong?"

"There is no wrong in being true to oneself."

In that moment, Tom felt a warmth spreading through him that was unfamiliar yet deeply comforting. He allowed himself a small smile, feeling for the first time that there was hope for a future where he could be himself, without fear or shame.

Unbeknownst to Tom, forces were already in motion to recover Zeta and deal with the errant air man. In the darkened halls of the military base, an alarm continued to blare out. The corridors littered with the fallen as a deadly gas hung in the air.

Among the chaos, the Men in Black, looking like twins, synthetic beings with a singular mission: retrieve the alien at all costs, made their way through the base. They would be impressive specimens of manhood but for an unearthly pallor.

They were found in the remains of a previous crashed UFO. These relentless and efficient hunters were now key to the return of a valuable specimen, and to silence the last of those who knew about the alien. As they prepared to track their quarry, the desert lay quiet and unaware of the impending pursuit.

In the quiet of the night, Tom and Zeta huddled together beneath the stars. The desert was vast and unforgiving, but it offered a strange kind of solace—a reminder that the universe was much larger than their current predicament.

Tom couldn’t help but wonder about the alien’s world and the circumstances that had brought it here. Zeta’s thoughts touched his mind, conveying images of a distant planet full of light and harmony, a stark contrast to the chaos they now faced.

"Why did you come here?" Tom asked softly, unsure if he expected an answer.

"Curiosity and necessity, interwoven with the hope of understanding humanity."

“We’re not all bad,” Tom said, more to himself than to Zeta. “No everyone wants to kill you.”

"Which is the hope for your race."

As the first hints of dawn crept across the horizon, Tom knew they had to move. The jeep was a liability, and they needed to find a more permanent solution.

Tom and Zeta set off on foot, leaving the jeep hidden behind the rocks. The desert stretched endlessly before them, but Tom's resolve was unwavering. They would find a way to survive and evade capture.

As they trudged through the desert, Tom spotted a thin wisp of smoke rising in the distance. He should avoid it, but his instincts said otherwise. They needed help, and he had no idea where else to turn. They made for the modest cabin nestled amongst the rocks.

As they approached, an elderly man emerged, his deep-set eyes observing them as if they were expected.

Hastiin Nez was in his seventies, his skin like aged leather from years under the sun. Long gray hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, and his high cheekbones and wise eyes spoke of stories passed down through generations.

He wore a simple, weathered shirt and trousers, a leather cord with a small, carved stone pendant around his neck signifying his heritage. Hastiin’s calm presence was a stark contrast to the chaos that Tom had just escaped, and he greeted them with the measured cadence of someone who chooses words carefully, each syllable carrying weight and meaning.

"Welcome," Hastiin said, motioning them inside. "I am Hastiin! You look like you could use a place to rest."

The old man sensed a similar story to his own. This boy was running from persecution just like his own child. Yet the justice system did not give up. They tracked his son relentlessly before slaughtering the boy for failing to heed their demands. Hastiin was driven away from town to seek solace and healing in the land of his ancestors.

The old man finally noticed the alien. He nodded his head, as if expecting the creature to appear at his door. He stepped aside to allow them both to enter his home.

Hastiin’s granddaughter, Tala, appeared from another room, her eyes wide with curiosity. She was a bright and inquisitive ten-year-old with long, dark hair cascading down her back. Her intelligent brown eyes sparkled with curiosity and wonder, and she wore a colorful dress made from a patchwork of fabric, a testament to the resourcefulness of her family.

"Who is this?" Tala asked, her gaze fixed on Zeta with open fascination. "You are so beautiful."

"This is Zeta," Tom explained, "and we're in a bit of trouble."

The old man nodded knowingly. "We've heard stories of sky beings from our ancestors. It's no surprise they would find their way here once more."

As Hastiin set to work tending to Zeta's wounds with traditional remedies. Tom watched in awe. The elder's knowledge of healing and the natural world was vast. He moved with a deliberate grace that spoke of years of practice.

Hastiin’s granddaughter acting as an assistant to her grandfather fetching whatever he needed. She watched on with a sense of wonder at the sight of this being.

While Hastiin and his granddaughter worked on the alien, Tom was keeping vigilant for any signs of the people coming for them. He knew they would eventually.

Time passed, the alien was now resting, and Hastiin had now fixed them some food and drink. Tom could finally take a respite.

The old man quietly said, "They say the sky beings bring change. My grandfather spoke of them, of their wisdom and their power."

Tom nodded, grateful for the older man's calm presence. "This is the stuff of Orson Welles. I just didn’t expect to be on the run with one of them."

Tala grinned, her youthful excitement shining through. "I think it’s kind of amazing. Like something out of a storybook....Like Peter Pan and Neverland."

After eating, Tom had washed and changed into clothes supplied by Hastiin. The set of clothes was a far cry from his military uniform. He now sported a simple, yet practical outfit: a pair of worn, but clean denim jeans, cinched at the waist with a leather belt. He wore a crisp white button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, revealing his toned forearms.

On his feet were sturdy brown work boots that had clearly seen their fair share of miles. The ensemble was a stark contrast to his military gear, giving him a more civilian look suited for blending in.

Tala rummaged through a large wooden chest in the corner of the cabin, muttering to herself as she sorted through its contents. “Let’s see, something that might fit…” she said, finally pulling out a small pair of denim overalls and a bright yellow shirt with a cheerful sun embroidered on it.

Zeta watched curiously; its head tilted to the side. Tala suddenly giggled, "Hey! That tickles!" She glanced at the alien, "They’re clothes from my little cousin," Tala explained with a grin. "You will need a disguise." She held up the shirt, inspecting it critically. "It might be a bit snug, but it'll have to do."

As Tala helped Zeta into the overalls, Tom couldn't help but stifle a laugh. The alien, usually so otherworldly, now looked like a tiny farmer ready for a day in the sun.

"There!" Tala said proudly, stepping back to admire her handiwork. "All you need is a hat, and no one would notice you."

Zeta looked down at himself, his fingers tugging at the straps of the overalls, a mix of confusion and amusement.

Tom chuckled, nodding. "You look like you're ready to help harvest crops or chase after chickens. It's perfect."

"Let's just hope no one gets too nosey," Tala added, still giggling. With Zeta's disguise in place, they were one step closer to making their escape.

Tom must have dozed off in the armchair because he was startled awake by roar of engines. Tom peeked through a crack in the window, his heart pounding. A dark Cadillac came to a halt in a cloud of dust, and two figures in black suits and sunglasses emerged with an eerie precision.

"Tala! Stay inside," Hastiin instructed his granddaughter, his voice calm yet firm. "Tom, we must delay them long enough for you and Zeta to escape."

Tom nodded, a mixture of gratitude and anxiety swirling within him. He quickly gathered a knapsack and began filling it with provision for their journey. He glanced at the alien, still weak but seemed stable, who understood what was happening without asking.

As the men in black approached the cabin, the old man stepped outside, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. He stood as a quiet sentinel between the intruders and the cabin, an unyielding force rooted in the wisdom of generations.

"What business do you have here?" Hastiin called out, his voice steady and clear.

One of the men in black stepped forward. "We are here for the extraterrestrial. And the traitor. Hand them over, and no one will be harmed."

The old man shook his head slowly. "You come with ill intent. You will not find what you seek here."

Inside the cabin, Tom whispered to Tala, "Stay down out of sight! I’ll get Zeta out of here."

Tala nodded, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and determination. "Be careful, Tom."

With Zeta in his arms, Tom moved to the back of the cabin, searching for a way out. The men in black advanced, their movements eerily synchronized, as if guided by a single mind. Hastiin remained steadfast, blocking their path.

"We do not wish to harm you," the leader warned, his voice devoid of emotion.

"Then you will leave us in peace," the old man replied, a quiet authority in his tone.

The other man in black raised a device, a sleek black object humming ominously, "Stand aside."

Hastiin stood firm; his gaze unflinching. "You underestimate the power of this land and its people."

As the standoff continued, Tom found a small window at the back of the cabin. He quickly eased it open, helping Zeta through with careful urgency. The alien slipped out into the growing light of day, and Tom followed.

With a surge of adrenaline, Tom and Zeta sprinted away from the cabin. The men in black, momentarily distracted by Tom's sudden movement, turned to give chase.

But the old man had anticipated this. As they advanced, Hastiin released a handful of powder into the air—a blend of herbs and minerals used in traditional rituals. The air shimmered with the scent of sage, and the men in black hesitated, momentarily disoriented by the unexpected sensory assault.

"Now, Tala!" Ben shouted.

Tala, with a mixture of excitement and fear, pulled a small lever hidden behind the cabin wall. With a creak, a section of the ground near the cabin gave way, revealing a concealed pit, a trap designed for just such an occasion. The men in black fell into the pit, their plans disrupted.

Tom and Zeta continued to run, their breaths heavy with exertion. The desert stretched out before them, a vast expanse of potential freedom.

"Keep going!" The old man urged them, "May the spirits guide your path and protect you on your journey!"

As they put more distance between themselves and the cabin, Tom felt a surge of hope. They had evaded capture for now.

Back at the cabin, Hastiin and Tala watched the men in black struggle to escape the pit. The old man placed a reassuring hand on Tala's shoulder, "I think it is time we drive into town for provisions," The old man sighed, "And leave these unfortunates to their own making."

The desert stretched out endlessly before Tom and Zeta, the relentless sun beating down on them as they fled. Zeta, despite his remarkable abilities, was barely able to keep up, his movements slow and labored. The alien needed proper rest to recover.

Tom kept his eyes peeled for any sign of pursuit. His instincts proved correct when two more men in black emerged from the shadows of a rocky outcrop, their dark suits incongruous against the barren landscape. They moved with unnerving precision; their eyes hidden behind opaque sunglasses. The twins had doubled.

There was another Cadillac parked behind them in the shadows.

"Stay close," Tom whispered to Zeta, his voice urgent. "We’ll find a way out of this."

Zeta nodded, though his strength was clearly waning. The men in black advanced, their footsteps crunching over the gravelly ground.

One of the men in black raised a sleek black weapon with a faint, menacing hum. The air shimmered as it activated. The man began to advance toward them.

Tom went to run the other way, but the alien didn't move. The man in black got close enough for the little guy to reach out and grab the man's leg.

A wave of pulsating energy surged forth. The figure convulsed momentarily before collapsing to the ground, twitching erratically. There was a series of sparking coming from inside the man’s chest followed by a loud bang.

The sunglasses had fallen away to reveal a tear in the man’s face. Instead of flesh and blood, there was a smooth, metallic visage, and an eerie, cold blue light for an eyeball. The eye flickered erratically. Now this was more like War of The Worlds.

Zeta dropped to the ground. His energies exhausted. Tom picked him up and placed the alien on his shoulders, "Just hang on and I'll get us out of this." He raced away.

The other man in black followed with eerie determination, his movements robotic and unyielding. The creature fired his weapon. A beam of crackling energy surged towards Tom and Zeta, who barely was hanging on. Tom managed to dodge the blast while trying to keep the alien balanced on his shoulders.

The scorching air sizzled with energy and the ground was churned up around them. Tom's heart raced as he zigzagged through the rough terrain. He could feel the weight of the alien on his shoulders baring him down, slowing their progress, but the young man had to dig deep and keep going. For both their sakes.

Tom dashed towards the edge of a ridge. He skidded to a halt, feeling the drop below. Tom lowered the alien down to the ground making sure the little guy was safely behind him.

The second man in black closed in, the energy weapon aimed directly at him. Tom grabbed a jagged rock from the ground. He threw it with all his strength. The makeshift projectile struck the weapon, causing the beam to veer off course. The man in black, caught off guard, staggered and teetered dangerously close to the edge of the ridge.

Tom took advantage of the moment, grabbed another rock from the ground and threw it at the man. The creature tried to duck out of the way only causing the man to teeter on the edge eventually giving in to gravity, and he fell over the side. The man in black plummeted to the ground below.

Tom, breathing heavily and covered in sweat, "Well, at least, now we have a ride."

Tom guided the alien back towards the vehicle that had once belong to the men in black, found it was unlocked, and providing a source of transport. They drove off into the growing dusk with no idea where they were going or what they would do when they got there. Tom just had to stay ahead of the government for now. To keep them both safe.

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