Alien Caller by Greg Curtis

them months and years just to make it
to the closest planets of their own solar system.
     
    Then he drew a
picture of the ship crashing, and her beside the ship with a piece
of metal sticking out of her leg. In response she changed the
drawing in a little, but significant way. She showed the crashed
ship as a smaller ship came out of a big flying van. There was a
mother ship in orbit somewhere above them. And after a few more
sketches, he realized there were people on board the ship who knew
she’d crashed, and more of her people on the ground awaiting her.
More of her people. They had fur, tails and another big flying
van.
     
    Her people had
a base somewhere on Earth. The news shocked him nearly as deeply as
had her own appearance. Despite all the satellites in orbit
covering the land, the radars searching the skies and the security
operations looking for signs of infiltration, a group of aliens had
established a base somewhere on Earth. Worse still he realized, it
must be somewhere quite close given that she had come from a mother
ship heading directly for it and had crashed nearby. Of course,
close for her people could mean something else entirely. It could
be a thousand miles or more with alien technology.
     
    She must have
sensed his shock, because the very next thing she drew was two men,
one with fur and a tail, one without either, shaking hands.
Whatever else it meant, it meant either she or her people were
friendly. But was she talking about herself or her people? And
which humans? Locals? Americans? Other countries? Government? And
why were they shaking hands? It was a particularly human gesture
and suggested she knew more about humanity than she could say. He
had no doubt she was telling the truth.
     
    For the next
few hours they exchanged sketches, drawing until the pad was almost
gone. To anyone watching it would doubtless have seemed very
strange, as he spoke to her in English, and she responded in
whatever language she spoke, while they both drew pictures. But it
worked.
     
    Over those few
hours he learned an awful lot about her. He soon had a rough guide
as to the direction from where her ship had crashed, and a vague
idea as to where she was heading. He also guessed that it was
close. Not that far from the lake in fact and perhaps a few valleys
over. It was a shock to realize that there was an alien camp so
near. But she had drawn the outline of the nearby lakes perfectly,
a good sign that she knew the area at least from maps, and the
place she identified, he knew well.
     
    Wrath Valley.
At least that was what the locals called it because of the way the
wind seemed to whistle through the hills almost angrily. It was a
large valley, used only by hunters because of its thick bush and
stony outcroppings. The land was useless for anything else. There
were no roads in or out of it, a few trails and cabins used by moon
shiners in the days of prohibition, but nothing more. And in more
recent years the valley had been used less and less even by hunters
because of the belief it was haunted, though no one would ever come
out and say that. Even mountain men wouldn’t admit to something as
screw ball as that.
     
    Except that it
wasn’t. Now he guessed, he knew the reason for the haunting. Not
ghosts but aliens - not that he would mention that to anyone
either. Fortunately he might not have to. There were plenty of
other valleys filled with game closer to town and easier to get to,
and he liked the peace and quiet.
     
    The real shock
was that his patient wasn’t far from her people. Two more days walk
if she was fully fit. Less if he drove her most of the way, which
he could. It was a rough trail but the four wheel drive could
follow it.
     
    Then as the sun
finally poked its head all the way above the mountains he learned
one thing more. He was hungry, and so in all probability was she.
He left her on the stool still puzzling over their latest sketches,
while he went round the other side into the kitchen to