I Am Number Four

When the bell rings, I dash out of class and rush down the hall. I'm the first one to enter astronomy. The classroom fills and Sam sits beside me again. Just before the bell rings Sarah and Mark enter together. She's dressed in a white button-up shirt and black pants. She smiles at me before sitting down. I smile back. Mark doesn't look my way at all. I can still smell the manure on my shoes, or maybe the odor is coming from Sam's.

He pulls a pamphlet from his bag with the title They Walk Among Us on the cover. It looks as though it was printed in somebody's basement. Sam flips to an article in the center and starts reading intently.

I look at Sarah four desks in front of me, at her hair pulled back in a ponytail. I can see the nape of her slender neck. She crosses her legs and sits straight in her chair. I wish I were sitting beside her, that I could reach over and take her hand in mine. I wish it were eighth period already. I wonder if I'll be her partner in home ec again.

Mrs. Burton begins lecturing. She's still on the topic of Saturn. Sam takes out a sheet of paper and begins scribbling wildly, pausing at times to consult an article in the magazine he has opened beside him. I look over his shoulder and read the title: "Entire Montana Town Abducted by Aliens."

Before last night I would have never pondered such a theory. But Henri believes the Mogadorians are plotting to take over Earth, and I must admit, even though the theory in Sam's publication is ludicrous, at its most basic level there might be something there. I know for a fact that the Loric have visited Earth many times over the life of this planet. We watched Earth develop, watched it through the times of growth and abundance when everything moved, and through the times of ice and snow when nothing did. We helped the humans, taught them to make fire, gave them the tools to develop speech and language, which is why our language is so similar to the languages of Earth. And even though we never abducted humans, that doesn't mean it's never been done. I look at Sam. I've never met somebody with a fascination in aliens to the point of reading and taking notes on conspiracy theories.

Just then the door opens and Mr. Harris sticks his smiling face in.

"Sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Burton. I'm going to have to snag Mark from you. The Gazette reporters are here to interview him for the paper," he says loudly enough so everyone in the class can hear.

Mark stands, grabs his bag and casually strolls out of the room. From the doorway I see Mr. Harris pat him on the back. Then I look back at Sarah, wishing I could sit in the empty seat beside her.

Fourth period is physical education. Sam is in my class. After changing we sit beside each other on the gymnasium floor. He is wearing te

The gym teacher, Mr. Wallace, stands firmly in front of us, his feet shoulder width apart, his hands clenched into fists on his hips.

"All right, guys, listen up. This is probably the last chance we'll get to work outdoors, so make it count. One-mile run, as hard as you can. Your times will be noted and saved for when we run the mile again in the spring. So run hard!"

The outside track is made of synthetic rubber. It circles around the football field, and beyond it are some woods that I imagine might lead to our house, but I'm not sure. The wind is cool and goose bumps traverse the length of Sam's arms. He tries to rub them away.

"Have you run this before?" I ask.

Sam nods. "We ran it the second week of class."

"What was your time?"

"Nine minutes and fifty-four seconds."

I look at him. "I thought ski

"Shut up," he says.

I run side by side with Sam towards the back of the crowd. Four laps. That is how many times I must circle the track to have run a mile. Halfway around I begin to pull away from Sam. I wonder how fast I could run a mile if I really tried. Two minutes, maybe one, maybe less?

The exercise feels great, and without paying much attention, I pass the lead ru

I run halfway around the track in a dead sprint before I turn back around. There is nothing behind me. I have outrun it. Twenty seconds have passed. Then I turn back around and the thing is right in front of me. It must have cut across the field. I stop dead in my tracks and my perspective corrects itself. It's Bernie Kosar! He's sitting in the middle of the track with his tongue dangling, tail wagging.

"Bernie Kosar!" I yell. "You scared the hell out of me!"

I resume ru

"Smith! What happened? You were dusting everyone!" Mr. Wallace yells when I run by him.

I breathe heavily, for show. "I-have-asthma," I say.

He shakes his head in disapproval. "And here I thought I had this year's Ohio state track champion in my class."

I shrug and keep going, stopping every so often to walk. Bernie Kosar stays with me, sometimes walking, sometimes trotting. When I start the last lap Sam catches up to me and we run together. His face is bright red.

"So what were you reading in astronomy today?" I ask. "An entire Montana town abducted by aliens?"

He grins at me. "Yeah, that's the theory," he says somewhat shyly, as though embarrassed.

"Why would an entire town be abducted?"

Sam shrugs, doesn't answer.

"No, really?" I ask.

"Do you really want to know?"

"Of course."

"Well, the theory is that the government has been allowing alien abductions in exchange for technology."

"Really? What kind of technology?" I ask.

"Like chips for supercomputers and formulas for more bombs and green technologies. Stuff like that."

"Green technology for live specimens? Weird. Why do aliens want to abduct humans?"

"So they can study us."

"But why? I mean, what reason could they possibly have?"

"So that when Armageddon comes they'll know our weaknesses and be able to easily defeat us by exposing them."

I'm kind of taken aback by his answer, but only because of the scenes still playing in my head from the night before, remembering the weapons I saw the Mogadorians use, and the massive beasts.

"Wouldn't it be easy for them if they already have bombs and technologies far superior to our own?"

"Well, some people seem to think that they're hoping we'll kill ourselves first."

I look at Sam. He is smiling at me, trying to decide whether I'm taking the conversation seriously.

"Why would they want us to kill ourselves first? What is their incentive?"

"Because they're jealous."

"Jealous of us? Why, because of our rugged good looks?"

Sam laughs. "Something like that."

I nod. We run in silence for a minute and I can tell Sam is having a tough time, breathing heavily. "How did you get interested in all this?"