Aliens Wrecked Our Kegger - Author Commentary Edition: Chapter 6

It took roughly ten minutes for Smasher to get back on his feet, and Clyde used that time to put everything in order. Tall Tony, the most trustworthy Tony in the bunch, was officially handed over party coordination duties in Clyde’s absence. It was a huge honor, and one not done without trade. In return for the trust Clyde was showing, Tall Tony agreed to lend them his SUV. Since Clyde had a two-seater and Smasher rode a motorcycle, securing a vehicle with enough room to bring Dougie back was a primary concern.

Based on the GPS reading from Dougie’s phone, which Clyde was checking frequently, the trio had clearly gotten into some kind of automobile and were making great time through the nearby highways. They’d passed right by the other frats, so this wasn’t simply a matter of competitive sabotage, a fact Clyde had started suspecting the moment high-tech gadgets came into play. Since he had no idea of the kidnapper’s ultimate destination, for now all he could do was pursue and hope Dougie’s kidnappers came to a stop soon.

With the party in good hands and transport secured, Clyde led a still semi-dazed Smasher out to Tall Tony’s SUV. Thankfully, since it belonged to a man nicknamed Tall Tony there was ample leg room, enough for Smasher to fit nicely on the passenger side. Sticking his phone into a holder on the air vent, Clyde flipped on voice navigation and instructed it to follow Dougie’s coordinates. It lacked the same panache of jumping in a cab and screaming “follow that car” but such was the price of progress.

They rode in silence, save for the robotic voice barking directions, until Smasher finally stopped rubbing his temples and looked around. “Where are we?”

“South part of town, heading farther that direction,” Clyde replied. “We never come out here because there’s nothing but shitty stores and farm lands. I’ve got no idea what could be out here worth bringing a stolen keg to.”

“Field party is my guess. Bunch of people circle up their trucks, it’s always trucks, and unload beer while turning up their stereos. Good alternative for the folks who don’t have clubs or bars worth a damn.”

Clyde allowed his eyes to leave the road briefly, giving Smasher a look of incredulity that surpassed the best he’d thought himself capable of. It was so intense that Smasher even noticed, which only made the expression deepen.

“What? I had a life before college, and that’s how my high school football team liked to party.”

“Just never heard you say that much in one go. Ever.”

Smasher’s own eyes widened in surprise as the realization hit him. “Huh. Yeah. Well, it’s not every night I get zapped in the head; maybe I’m still out of sorts.”

For once, it was Clyde who was left silent. This was an odd development, but they were dealing with bizarre tech and an unexpected kidnapping. Smasher was right — being shaken was only natural. The stranger part of it was that he’d never imagined Smasher stayed silent out of intent; everyone had always just assumed he was a man of few words given the effort of stringing thoughts together. Had they all been misreading their friend for years? It was concerning, yet, in the hierarchy of shit to deal with, Smasher’s increased dialogue was well below a missing brother. Clyde kept his attention on the GPS and the road, determined not to fall farther behind than they already were.

After another twenty minutes of driving, Clyde noticed that the directions were stabilizing. Before, they’d jumped around a bit as Dougie’s location shifted, but now the coordinates were holding steady. A quick check of the phone confirmed that yes, Dougie had indeed stopped moving. Clyde’s foot inadvertently pushed the gas harder as he realized they were now closing the gap. Soon, they’d catch up, and this time no tuning fork was going to stop them from bringing Dougie, and the stolen kegs, back with them.

They left the highway not long after, moving to dark roads that gradually became more dirt and less pavement, making them both glad they’d borrowed Tall Tony’s vehicle for the trip. Streetlights became a distant memory, as did road signs and stop lights. Even with the brights on, it was so hard to make out anything through the trees that Clyde nearly drove right past the turn they were looking for. Smasher was the one who saw it, grabbing the wheel and giving it a quick turn that Clyde could no more have prevented than he could have talked a thunderstorm into stopping. The jerking movement was enough to swing them around, thankfully, although not for long. Only a few feet down this new road found their headlights shining on a large wire gate that connected to a wooden fence spanning the entire property. As if the fencing itself wasn’t message enough, a large “No Trespassing” sign hung on the front of the gate.

“I guess we ram it.” Clyde tried to sound resigned, rather than excited, but come on, how often did one have a justifiably righteous reason to ram a gate?

“Tall Tony might be pissed about that,” Smasher pointed out. Shit, he was making a lot of good points tonight. “Besides, there’s a hole in the gate on the end. That’s probably how they slipped past here. Although I have no idea where their car is.”

That was the question Clyde was about to raise, but as he squinted at the gate and double-checked his phone it became irrelevant. Dougie was farther in, and they had a path forward. That was what mattered for now. They could sort out the smaller questions later.

Wasting no time, they both hopped out of the SUV and rushed over to the gate. While the hole was large enough for Clyde to slip through, there was no way Smasher would fit. For a moment, Clyde wondered if he was going to have to press on alone, but that was his own fault. He’d momentarily forgotten what made Smasher… Smasher. With one hand, the big guy gripped the torn part of the wire and pulled, ripping the hole open until it was large enough for him, or an errant cow, to pass through.

Dougie was close, and they had finally arrived. Time to start the real part of their rescue mission.

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In the first version of this chapter, Smasher didn’t spell out what field parties were quite so overtly. It wasn’t until I let a friend read it that I released my rural upbringing might have pulled up an experience a tad less universal than I’d initially thought.

Aside from seeing more Smasher’s development, this chapter gets our characters out into a proper scary setting. Away from the comforts of suburbia and their entourage of friends, the duo must even abandon their last vestige of protection in the form of the SUV to venture forth alone. The idea was to thread the comedy/horror needle by shifting the setting, as things will lighten up again once we return to the frat house.

I’m not sure if Clyde’s sentiment goes for all of us, but personally speaking, I am definitely waiting for the day when I have appropriate cause/permission to blast a big vehicle through a flimsily secured gate. Or even better, of those wooden parking lot arms that lower and raise. Whether it’s due to a glut of daytime TV or too many action movies in my youth, that just seems like it would be absolutely awesome.