Watch the Skies

“Ah, the big musical,” said Dana. “When’s that happening again?”

“Saturday, you moron. What are you guys, foreign-exchange students?”

“Something like that,” I said, putting my hand on his neck and quickly erasing his memory of this conversation, just in case.

We exited the building and came to a silent stop on the sidewalk next to the school parking lot where, a moment later, two yellow buses, each driven by a henchbeast, screeched to a halt.

The kids wordlessly broke into two groups and climbed aboard.

“You want to do something about this?” Dana asked me.

“Not yet,” I said. “Sounds like this is another rehearsal, so I’m pretty sure they’re not in immediate peril. Number 5’s too much of a perfectionist to kill prematurely. He’s going to want the best, biggest bang he can get on Saturday.”

We broke away from the group and hid behind the rear bus. Dana slapped a small magnetic device under the bumper.

“Homing beacon,” she said, as the bus doors closed and the buses squealed away from the curb, “so we can track where they’re taking them for the practice session and hopefully see where Number 5’s intending to film Holliswood’s grand finale this weekend.”

We returned to the building, and I noticed two pregnant teachers standing silently in the courtyard, staring up at the sky. I’d never seen so many pregnant women in one town. Time to get to the bottom of this.

“How long have you been pregnant?” I asked the closer one.

“Four weeks,” she replied.

“Four weeks?” said Dana, her eyes nearly bugging out of her head. “You’re a little big for four weeks, don’t you think? Aren’t you worried?”

“No, I’m just happy,” she said like a very, very bad actress reading a very, very lame script.

Then I did something I don’t normally like to do because it makes me feel queasy on the best of days. I used my X-ray vision… and looked inside her belly.

I’d describe to you in detail what I saw, except you’d never forgive me if I did.

Chapter 29

“ALIEN SPAWN,” I explained to Dana as diplomatically as I could. “Number 5’s, by the look of them.”

“Nasty,” said Dana. “So all these pregnant women in town are actually filled with little Number 5s?”

“That’s my theory,” I said.

“That’s horrible!” said Dana, gasping.

“And I’m guessing the ‘caviar’ mailing from the television station is how it happened.”

“Which means the station is probably one of the first, if not the first, place Number 5 attacked. Let’s go have a look!”

“You may be right, Dana, but I want to check out a few things before going over there.”

“Like what? Gym class?”

“No. I have to go see somebody.”

“Who?”

“Never mind. I’ll see you back at the house, okay?”

“Who are you going to see, Daniel?” she asked, tapping her foot impatiently.

“Well…” I started to explain, but then I clapped her out of existence. It was an awkward thing to explain to anybody, let alone Dana.

Chapter 30

I PULLED THE van into the diner lot and spotted Judy Blue Eyes through the plate-glass window, shuttling a brown-rimmed coffee pot back and forth to customers along the counter.

I made my way inside, pulled my “Relax” cap down over my eyes, and took a stool across from the rotating pie display.

She had recovered well from the other night, and it would be an understatement to say she was looking pretty cute.

“Hey, you!” she said, spotting me and causing my alien heart to flop around in my chest like a fish in the bottom of a rowboat.

“Hey, J-J-,” I started to say but, fortunately, she cut off my nervous stutter with a glass of water and a menu.

“So, um, how’s it going?” I finally managed to ask.

“Good. How’s it going with you?” she asked.

“Good.”

“Want another of those grilled cheese sandwiches you liked so much-with a slice of pickle in it?”

“Sure. Great. Thanks.” I was doing well with the one-word sentences. “Look, um, Judy -”

“Yes?” she asked, batting her eyes and causing me to forget what I had meant to ask her.

“So, has anything… unusual happened since the other night?”

“Unusual? Like what?”

“Like, um, anything weird?”

“Where? Here, at the diner?”

“Yeah, or in your neighborhood, or at school.”

“My school is always weird-my parents have been homeschooling me since eighth grade. It totally stinks.”

“I’m sure they’re doing what’s best for you.”

“Yeah, completely destroying my social life is just what the doctor ordered.”

“Seriously, you never go to school?”

“Pretty much just for standardized tests. Like twice a year.”

“So when do you get out to see your friends?”

“Friends? I’m lucky to get out for piano lessons. I took this job pretty much just so I could talk to other human beings.” How ironic that she had found herself talking to a nonhuman instead, I thought. “Only problem is it’s usually old truckers, municipal employees, and police. My parents figure it’s good experience for me and a chance for me to earn some money for college.”

“I’m impressed.”

“Yeah, they seem to think I’ll get into a better school this way. And who knows? Maybe they’re right. Maybe Mulberry Avenue Academy is better than Holliswood High.”

“What’s Mulberry Avenue Academy?”

“ Mulberry Avenue is the street my house is on. I was trying to make a joke, stu.”

“Stu? Um, my name’s Daniel.”

“Stu’s not just short for Stuart, stupid.”

I was unprepared for that, but I was pretty sure she was flirting.

“So you feel like it’s a good idea to tease me even with a name like you’ve got?” I said pointing at her name tag. “I mean, it seems to me if you want to go that way -”

“My real last name’s McGillicutty. My boss couldn’t spell it over the phone to the uniform supplier, so he put the order through as Judy Blue Eyes.”

“McGillicutty, huh?” I was tempted to tell her name sounded just like a substance, magillakedi, that’s excreted by a three-hundred-pound centipede-like creature from Frizia Nine and is one of the three worst-smelling compounds ever discovered… but then I thought better of it.

“So, remind me… Did you say you wanted that sandwich, stu?”

We were staring pretty hard into each other’s eyes at this point, and I was feeling a little giddy. “Sure, a sandwich would be great.”

Chapter 31

ONE MINUTE JUDY was herself-smiling, bouncing down the length of the counter to pass my order through the kitchen window-and the next minute, the diner was almost as surreal as an alien picnic.

All at once the volume on the TV set above the cash register went from mute to ear busting. A number from that High School Musical show started to crescendo, and suddenly Judy was juggling coleslaw cups and then twirling the two-foot-long pepper mill like she was a majorette.

Then the volume went back down, and, without missing a beat, she was back leaning across the counter looking at me.

“That’s fu

“Um, yeah, sure. Listen,” I said, getting out my wallet. “I just remembered I have to walk the dog.” Even weirder than Judy’s juggling routine was the fact that Zac Efron from High School Musical was starting to look a little like Number 5 to me. Sure sign it was time to split.

“Oh, okay,” she said, looking a little surprised.

“Just promise me you’ll keep your eyes open for anything strange, okay?”

“You betcha, cutie.”

Did I mention Alien Hunter superability number 415? Yeah, I can blush so hard that Santa could probably give Rudolph a season off and have me guide his sleigh at night.

So my big giant red head and I stuttered “Th-th-thanks,” and left a nice tip on the counter.