Chapter 5
899 Words
Amelia
The first tree took less than a minute to fall.
The second took three.
By the sixth...
Every one of us was sweating.
The morning chill had disappeared beneath the steady rhythm of work.
Chainsaw.
Crash.
Trim branches.
Measure.
Cut.
Repeat.
The forest slowly surrendered the straight young pines Nora wanted, each one just under eight feet long and thick enough to support the impossible weight waiting in the crater.
Wren dragged another freshly cut log toward us before dropping her end with a groan.
"I'm changing careers."
I looked up from trimming branches.
"To what?"
"I don't know."
She wiped sweat from her forehead with the sleeve of her flannel.
"But I'd like one that doesn't involve carrying trees."
"You live on a farm."
"I know."
"I've made poor life choices."
Nora laughed without looking up.
"You were born here."
"I stand by what I said."
Even Ivy smiled.
By the time we'd finished cutting the eighth roller, a neat pile of stripped logs waited beside the pod.
Nora wiped the sawdust from her hands and studied the crater.
"All right."
She pointed.
"We need pry bars."
Wren frowned.
"I thought we were using the ATVs."
"We are."
"Then why pry bars?"
"Because we have to get the rollers underneath first."
"Oh."
She looked at the pod.
"...Right."
I walked back to the cargo rack on my ATV and pulled out two six-foot steel digging bars.
Grandpa had always called them the two most useful tools on the farm.
"When brute force doesn't work," he'd once written in one of the manuals, "you're probably using the wrong leverage."
I smiled to myself.
He'd appreciate this.
We wedged the bars beneath one side of the pod.
"Ready?" I asked.
Everyone nodded.
"Lift."
Steel groaned.
Muscles strained.
For a second...
Nothing happened.
Then the pod shifted.
Barely.
"Hold it!" Nora called.
Ivy shoved the first roller underneath.
It disappeared almost halfway beneath the pod.
"Another!"
Wren wrestled the second log into place.
Then a third.
My arms were already shaking.
"Okay..."
Nora looked underneath.
"Ease it down."
The pod settled onto the logs with a dull, heavy thump.
Nobody moved.
We simply stared.
"It didn't crush them," Wren whispered.
Nora crouched beside the nearest roller.
"It barely compressed them."
She ran a hand over the pine.
"I don't understand."
"What now?" I asked.
She frowned.
"That pod should weigh enough to flatten these."
"It doesn't?"
"It should."
She stood slowly, brushing bark from her gloves.
"The numbers don't make sense."
"What numbers?"
She gestured toward the pod.
"If it's as heavy as it feels..."
She pointed toward the untouched roller.
"...these should've split."
"They didn't."
"No."
She looked back at the smooth black hull.
"They're not even cracking."
I knew that look.
She wasn't just confused.
She was fascinated.
Which, under normal circumstances, would've meant we'd lose her for the next six hours while she dismantled whatever had caught her attention.
Unfortunately...
We didn't have six hours.
"You can figure it out later."
She sighed dramatically.
"I know."
"You promise?"
"...Mostly."
I laughed.
"Good enough."
We wrapped heavy tow straps through the two recovery loops beneath the front of the pod.
Nora tugged on each one twice before walking back toward the ATVs.
"You take the left."
I nodded.
"You take the right."
"If one of us loses traction..."
"The other keeps tension."
She smiled.
"Exactly."
I climbed onto my ATV and started the engine.
Across from me, Nora did the same.
The familiar rumble echoed around the crater.
Behind the pod, Ivy and Wren each grabbed one of the rollers waiting to be fed forward.
"Everybody ready?" I called.
Three voices answered.
"As ready as we're going to be."
I eased onto the throttle.
The straps tightened.
The chains went rigid.
The engines growled against the weight.
Nothing happened.
I gave it a little more.
The front suspension dipped.
Dirt sprayed behind my tires.
Still...
Nothing.
I looked toward Nora.
She was giving hers more throttle too.
The engines roared together.
The tow straps stretched tight as violin strings.
Then...
A deep metallic groan rolled through the clearing.
The pod shifted.
Less than an inch.
Wren's eyes went wide.
"It moved!"
"Keep going!" Nora shouted.
I held the throttle steady.
Another inch.
Then another.
The first roller began turning beneath the pod.
Slowly.
Almost reluctantly.
Then—
The entire pod rolled forward.
For one glorious moment...
Everything worked exactly the way Nora had imagined.
Wren whooped.
Ivy laughed.
Even I couldn't stop smiling.
We'd done it.
The impossible was moving.
"Easy!" Nora called.
"Don't speed up!"
"I'm barely moving!"
"I know!"
The pod rolled another ten feet.
Another.
Another.
Then the ground curved.
The front roller kicked sideways.
The pod lurched violently to one side.
"Stop!"
I slammed on the brakes.
The pod dropped off the rollers with a ground-shaking THUD that echoed through the entire forest.
Silence.
Nobody spoke.
Nobody moved.
Finally...
Nora pinched the bridge of her nose.
"...I forgot corners exist."
For one heartbeat...
Complete silence.
Then Wren burst into laughter so hard she doubled over.
I tried to stay serious.
I really did.
But the sight of Nora glaring at a four-thousand-pound alien pod as though it had personally offended her was too much.
I laughed.
Then Ivy joined in.
Even Nora finally shook her head and smiled.
"All right," she muttered.
"Plan B."
- Writer
