“Further Adventures – Bigfoot (Part 5)” by Randy Long

[To be honest, Randy Long gave me these pages almost TWO WEEKS ago, but I’ve been dealing with a NEGATIVE REALITY INVERSION, so I haven’t had the opportunity to get to them until NOW! My apologies to Randy and to his SWARMS of ADORING FANS waiting for their next adventure FIX! You’re too-loooong of a wait is over! And for those who aren’t caught up on the action, you can read parts ONE thru FOUR by clicking THIS link!!! Enjoy…and BEWARE!!! —RFY]


We got up in the morning, and we ate, fed the horses, and started along our way. The further west we went, the denser the forest got. There’s old growth trees, some about 100 feet tall. Just guessing.

It was a nice, sunny day, around 80 degrees. We’d went about 30 miles, and it started to get a little cooler, but it’s always cooler, the closer you get to the coast. The trail got windier, and the wind picked up. The temperature had dropped about five degrees to 75 or so. We figured we were about half a mile or less from the coast when we came around a corner, and a World War II ship was sitting in between some trees. It said “Hood” on the side. I thought it was sunk in the war!

We come around another corner, and ships and planes were scattered for what looked like miles, and through the trees we could see the town of West Cove. As we rode into town, the people all seemed friendly.

“This is West Cove, right? I didn’t see any signs up,” I said.

“Yeah, we need to put a sign back up. We don’t get a lot of visitors, and we did have quite a storm a few months back, which, I think, must have been when the sign blew down,” one man said.

“I hear this is a fishing town,” I said.

“Yes,” he answered, “but you have to watch out for the sea creatures.”

“Sea creatures? What kind of sea creatures?” I asked.

“Giant squid, plesiosaurus (like Loch Ness), and other smaller ones. The fishing here is good, though. Usually, the creatures only come out at night. If we could only get the ships’ motors to work… There must be a dampening field around the planet keeping the engines from running. The native people must have had a problem with invaders or something.”

“There are a few ships here,” he continued, “that must have been U.F.O.s, spaceships, or whatever you want to call them, among the other war ships, Earth ships and planes. I think that’s why the native people left their own planet. The West Cove people are fishermen, but we’re also here to either cancel out the dampening field or find a way to get the motors running despite the dampening field.”

I said, “I should introduce myself. I’m Randy. This is my wife, Linda. And who are you?”

“I’m General Robert Lee—no relation, as far as I know.”

“So you’re not JUST a fishing town?”

“No. If we can get a motor to run, maybe we can go home. We’re trying to get one of the U.F.O.s to run. They’re a different technology than Earth machines. If we can get it to work, there’s a lot of other things the people of this land left that we might be able to get running, too, but only if we can get their technology to work.”

“Is it, perhaps, solar or electric or wind?”

“We’re, of course, trying to utilize those technologies, but our number one priority is getting the spaceships up and running.”

“When did you get to this planet, General?” I asked.

“It was 1946, peacetime. We were experimenting on a naval ship with magnets and lasers in the Bermuda Triangle when we fell through a doorway, ship and all. A green cloud appeared, and all our instruments went wild. Our ship fell here. Our engines quit, and the ship ran aground, almost 75 years ago. Since then, we have hardly aged a day.”

“Have you had any success in 75 years?”

“Just recently, we have engines that run and quit on one spaceship.”

“Can you show me the spaceship?”

“Yes, come with me.”

The General took me to an oblong, rectangular ship. It didn’t appear to have any damage on the outside. It was as long as a football field, but there was no sign of its occupants or of how long it had been sitting there.

“Do you know who left this here? Was it the natives of this land or the invaders?” I asked. “Do you know about the Grays?”

The General said, “Grays? What are they?”

“Aliens,” I said. “Grays abduct people and experiment on them. I wonder if this is their ship.”

“What do they look like?” the General asked.

“They are shorter than most humans and have big heads, big black eyes, and are both sexes in one.”

He said, “How do you know?”

“A friend told me all about them.”

“Are you sure your friend is reliable?” he asked.

“Completely.”

“The ship is human—or human-like. The seating, instruments, and language are all human, just far more advanced than anyone has ever seen. Very futuristic!”

“Can we look inside?”

The General opened the doors, and we tied the horses off and walked inside. Amazing! Just looking, I would say it was a native ship.

“What kind of engine does it have?” I asked.

“It’s not any kind we have ever seen. We still don’t understand. We’ve had it running, but when it’s on, you can’t tell, other than it lifted the ship off the ground.”

“Each of the towns around here has an information station, but whatever is killing the engines is keeping them from running, too,” the General said.

“Can you take me to the information station in town?”

The General said yes, and we headed back towards town.

“General, thanks for bringing us to the ship,” I said. “We are going to set up camp just outside of town and get some sleep. We’ll check out the rest of the town tomorrow.”

It had been another long day. We fed the horses and watered them, then set up camp. We built a fire and sat around the campfire to relax, and then finally went to bed and had some restful sleep, but the ground seemed especially hard that night.

—Randy Long


[Certainly, more to come!!!! And don’t forget to check out Mr. Long’s previous adventure BIGFOOT, which you can find in a lovely, paperback edition HERE or read online, for free, HERE! SUPPORT INDEPENDENT FOLKS WHO ARE JUST MAKING STUFF BECAUSE THEY LOVE IT!!! —RFY]

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About richardfyates

Compulsive creator of the bizarre and absurd. (Artist, writer, poet, provocateur...)
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