Stranded

Stranded

The lone astronaut cowered under the tall trees of the oasis as the alien ship came into view. As usual, he’d heard the hum of its engines long before he could see it. He knew hiding wouldn’t do him any good. Any minute now, the ship would begin bombarding the trees to drive him out.

“Please god. If you exist, just give me the strength to wait it out this time. Better yet, let one of the bombs hit me and end this once and for all.”

He knew the latter part of his prayer was pointless. More than once, he’d run directly into the path of one of the falling bombs, only to have it veer off suddenly and explode in another part of the small forest. In the years since he’d first woken up on this desolate little asteroid, he’d tried every way he could think of to escape one way or another. Every time, some sort of automated countermeasure had stopped him.

He covered his ears as the first of the explosives detonated behind him, but it did no good. The very air around him flexed with the force of the blast. Still he squeezed his eyes shut as the bombs fell all around him. Knowing that he was safe from the blasts did nothing to allay the terror he felt. Finally, his lizard brain kicked in and through no will of his own, he felt his legs pumping for all they were worth toward the safety of the open desert.

The moment he was in the open, he heard the telltale whirring of the protective doors that covered the glass belly of the ship. He could see the various odd silhouettes of the creatures inside for a moment before hundreds of flashes of light blinded him. He lay down in the cool sand, his eyes squeezed shut until he heard the doors close again.

Once again the engines began to hum and he stood up. As the ship began to glide forward, a huge metal cube slid silently from the back of the ship. His supplies. Enough to last him the months until the next tour group came by. It must weigh hundreds, maybe even thousands of pounds, he thought.

Sudden inspiration hit and he ran toward the falling cube. He skidded to a stop, and watched the shrinking lights of the ship’s afterburners as it hurried off to what he assumed was the next exhibit. He looked up, all he could see was the underside of the massive supply crate.

He closed his eyes.

“Please.” He prayed. “Please let this work.”