The earth rumbles. And my shoulder aches. It’s just a scrape. It’s not bad. But it still burns.

“Feels more like someone gave me a shoulder massage with a strip of sandpaper,” I say.

“You’ll live,” Xeno says, as another quake rumbles beneath us. “They’re getting steadily stronger with every wave, and more frequent.”

“Like contractions before a birth,” I say.

“Actually, that’s not a bad metaphor.”

“Thank you.”

“We need to make sure we’re out in the open for when the baby comes,” says Xeno, continuing my metaphor. “Because it’s going to get messy.”

I look around at the passing scenery. “Like where we are now?”

“Yes,” says Xeno. “However, I am increasingly concerned about a geological fault line that runs all the way through the east side of this valley.”

“The Wasatch Fault,” I say. “You think it’s vulnerable?”

“According to my previous models, it’s about three hundred years overdue for an adjustment, and we’re driving right on top of it.”

Everytime there’s a big shake I have to pull over and wait it out. It’s too dangerous to be going eighty with the road shaking under you. Xeno’s ship continues to grow larger in the distance. It reminds me of a mountain range, similar to the Rockies to my left.

A particular large rumble hits and I pull over. I have to brace myself against the steering wheel to avoid getting tossed back and forth in my seat. After it’s over, I check the rear view camera to make sure the trailer is still connected to the hitch. The way it’s been straining has started to alarm me. It looks a little beat up so I hop out to inspect further.

“Hey, where are you going?” says Xeno.

“One sec, gotta check something.”

I squat down to check the hitch. It looks fine, save for some dents on the metal frame. I give it a shake to test it, check the security chain, then hop on it for good measure.

“Are we good?” says Xeno.

“Yeah it looks …” I pause when I hear a sound. I look around. What is that? I look up. It’s midday by now so I have to shield my eyes. There’s nothing to the south, save for the vessel. I look to the north and my stomach lurches.

There’s a helicopter, flying low and parallel to the highway, headed straight for us.

“Jack!”

I jump off the trailer and into the driver’s seat. “I can’t out run a chopper,” I yell, as I slam on the gas. The wheels squeal, and I’m off.

“We have to try,” groans Xeno.

“You think it’s Peter Rabbet?”

“I’d rather not find out.”

I keep looking back over my shoulder, craning my neck to keep an eye on it.

“Can this can-on-wheels go any faster?” says Xeno.

“She’s built for sturdiness not speed,” I say.

The helicopter zooms past us overhead so low it shakes the truck, and continues onward down the road. Finally it pulls a one-eighty mid-air and spirals down until it’s resting on the highway.

It’s too far away to tell who they are, but two men in suits, accompanied by two in army fatigues jump out of the chopper. I see the flash of gunfire and my left headlight bursts like confetti.

“They’re freaking shooting at us,” I yell, as I duck my head. I make a split second decision and veer the wheel to the left. The truck hits the dusty yellow/green field with a bump, bump and continues on. “It’s also built for off-roading,” I say.

“Jack, if we can get to my vessel I think I can hide us inside.”

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

“What do you mean you think?”

“I need to connect with it to see what functions are still operable.”

“How do we do that?”

“Same way you sucked me out of it,” he says.

I see the chopper rise in the air in my rear view mirror.

“Well, they're airborne again,” I say, as we hit a particularly uncomfortable mound. The whole truck bounces up and down and the trailer screeches and swerves.

The chopper flies over us again and lands further down in the truck’s path. Again, men pop out with guns and start shooting.

I swerve hard to the left; the two tires on the left side lift off the ground for a moment. There’s a ping, ping, pang and bullets hit the ground in front of us, sending clods of dirt into the windshield.

I hear Xeno screaming things in the background but I’m too focused on driving to make sense of it. Half of it is mumbled anyway since I’m driving predominately with my right hand.

Then I hear and feel a pop, wobble wobble and my heart sinks.

“They got a tire!” I yell.

“I knew that was going to happen,” yells Xeno.

The truck hits another mound, and we bounce so hard that I slam my head against the cab and split my lower lip on the steering wheel. Stars dance in my vision as the truck jerks to the right and comes to an abrupt stop.

The chopper is about fifty yards away, give or take, and the men are running towards us.

I’m dizzy, my shoulder is killing me, and Xeno is shouting at me. But all I can hear is a ringing in my ears.

Then I hear, “… tear their faces off if they get any closer!”

“This was inevitable,” I say, with a cough.

“We can still make it,” says Xeno.

“I step on the gas and the truck lunges forward, then halts again, stuck in a deep rut.

“Come on, Jack!”

I put my forehead on the steering wheel and let out a groan, deep from my core. I’m so tired of running. I suck in a breath and let it out. Blood spills down my chin from my lip.

“Jack,” says Xeno, softer now. The way he says it feels more like a plea.

I lift my head. The men are yards away. I can see them clearly now. It’s definitely Peter and Rabbet. I couldn’t mistake that flat top haircut for anything.

I open the door, and step out.

“Get on the ground, Cobb!” shouts Rabbet.

“You’re not going to shoot me,” I say, spitting blood. “I’m too valuable.”

“Stop walking,” yells Pete, and fires off a warning shot.

“Listen,” I say, holding up my hands. “The world is about to end and a lot of people are going to die. I can send you two to a new world where life can start anew.”

The two soldiers accompanying them run past them and take hold of me. They’re halfway through clapping me in handcuffs and I’m halfway through telling them to take it easy on my shoulder when the guy to my left pukes out blood and falls to the ground.

The other guy barely has time to register what that red stuff all over his shoes is, before his own head whips back and his throat explodes like a firecracker.

“Jeez, Xeno,” I say, “Warn me next time, will ya?”

My arm recoils as Xeno slides back in with a gurgly slap. And then it’s just the four of us. Well, five of you include the chopper pilot.

This is the first time Peter or Rabbet have seen Xeno work his razor whip, snake strike kungfu action and it’s so apparent on their faces. They’re about five yards away, but close enough that I can see their wide eyes and dropped jaws.

It’s deeply satisfying, let me tell you.

“You like our new trick?” I yell.

“I can talk too,” yells Xeno.

I tentatively hold my hand up for the two men to see.

“And you both are huge douchebags,” says the alien in my hand to the government agents.

“Yes, that’s very helpful,” I tell the alien.

“Thanks, Jack. Wait, was that sarcasm?” he squeals. “I can’t tell with you sometimes.”

I don’t answer him. Instead, we all just stand there for a moment of loaded silence. Both Pete and Rabbet keep looking at each other then back at me. Confused, unsure, and probably reconsidering their choice of profession.

“Well?” I say. “What’s it gonna be, boys?”

Before either of them can speak, the world answers for them.

The ground begins to rumble. It’s subtle at first, like rumblings proceeding it. But there’s something different about this one. Pebbles and dirt bounce up and down. The wind picks up and switches direction. It feels like we’re standing on top of a slowly revving engine, getting louder and louder, stronger and stronger.

“It’s happening,” says Xeno. “Oh my—Jack, this is it. Get in the truck and drive!”

“Where?”

“Anywhere!”

All of us seem to come to an unspoken understanding at that moment. Peter Rabbet turns tail and runs back to their chopper, while I jump back into the truck. It only takes a few revs to get the truck unstuck, even with a flat front tire. It helps that the ground is shaking.

I spin around and speed through the field towards the highway. To the north, copious amounts of dust are bursting into the air from the ground at sporadic locations.

“It's splitting,” Xeno yells. “It's splitting right down the fault line. I knew this would happen.”

I make it to the highway and pull southward, my back tires spinning out on the turn. I look in my rear view mirror. The earth is opening up behind us. I only just register the chopper flying away before the field next to us splits and ejects rocks into the air. I swerve to avoid the bulk of them coming down, but a few hit the top of the cab, leaving dents so deep I can see them from the inside.

And then …