Invasion Day: An Oral History of the Veech War by Micah Gurley (good books for high schoolers .TXT) 📕

brave, but ultimately we were very wrong that day. We didn't know what we were going into and were very lucky we didn't all die.

We got out of the truck, then someone yelled for us to lie down, so I did. I couldn't see anything. We weren't even lying down in the right spot. We had lain down on the slope of a hill, and the only thing we could see was more hill. Feeling foolish, we hurried to the top and looked over a small rise to see the shuttle. I remember the grass being wet but wondered when it had rained. Funny the things you think about at such strange moments. Anyway, It was a small troop shuttle—not the big one, of course, but we didn't know that at the time. We saw the Veech moving around the shuttle, getting into some kind of formation.

A few of the guys got excited and wanted to fire right away, but were told to be quiet. We knew word was still hadn’t reached the town and the military, so we waited. Besides, they were doing nothing. Why change that?

Overall, there were fifteen of them that we could see. I remember thinking, what a relief. Fifteen? Even we could handle that if we surprised them. It wouldn't be so bad. (Laughs.) We were such fools. Such lucky, lucky fools.

A few minutes passed, and we could tell they were about to move out. I remember one of the aliens looking our way. I think it did anyway, and it just stood there looking at us, then turned around. I believe they knew we were there and didn't care. It made me angry. I started to lose my fear, rage taking over. This was prideful anger, vanity. To be dismissed like a child. Still, I didn't move, but I wanted to.

Everyone knows what they look like now, but I almost relaxed when I saw their human-looking forms. These were aliens but not so alien, you know? We never saw their faces because they had black helmets on, which seemed to come to a point in the front. They all had that red stripe down the front of them, and I thought at the time it was some kind of unit marking.

I don't know who on our side fired the first shot because I was wrapped up in my thoughts. I remember it very clearly though. A loud crack. Everyone froze. I don't know why, but it was shocking, like no one had considered it would happen. Then everyone fired, and I joined them.

For a few seconds, I thought we had wiped them out. Their bodies lit up like blinking Christmas lights. It was the bullets hitting their shields. We know this now, but at the time, it seemed unholy. Many of our shots didn't even hit them. We shot the ground, the trees, the shuttle, and a few even fired into the air. (Laughs and takes a drink of coffee, then frowns.)

We learned very quickly we were not killing them. We didn't know to focus on their shields or that they could be overloaded. That news had not made it to us yet. We fired like children, like teenage boys who were having a good time out in the woods. That ended when one of their energy weapons sliced through two of our guys. One of those guys had been a few feet from me. The top of his head was sliced open like in some kind of horror movie. I will tell you this and not feel ashamed. I got sick right there, and I was not the only one.

Our firing slowed as we panicked. I heard screaming and someone shouting, but don't remember anything said. I turned around and kept firing, trying not to think of my fallen friends. Four or five of the Veech started walking toward us. They walked very casually, as if they were in no hurry, maybe to see a friend. This was very alarming, my friend, let me tell you. They were coming for us.

We fired a few more shots, then backed down the hill, all of us scared and not sure what to do. We finally built up the courage to stand, and then we started running like beat dogs. Panic had us, and we sucked at its tit. We made it a hundred meters maybe before a laser cut one of us down. It was one of the police, and he fell to the left of me. At that moment, I knew it was over. We were dead, but I kept running. (Shakes his head.)

We would have all died if it hadn't been for the military. They saved us. A few helicopters, I don't know what kind, flew over us and fired on the Veech, then unloaded soldiers who ran right by us and attacked the Veech. I don't ever remember feeling such relief. This is an embarrassing story, but it is true.

Ken Miller

Vancouver, Canada

Ken Miller projects a friendly vibe. He's the kind of guy you automatically want to be friends with. This friendly demeanor is no doubt what made him such a successful politician in Canada. He no longer wears tailored suits and gold cufflinks but meets me wearing worn blue jeans, a flannel sweater, and a month-old beard. He told me it fits his life of seclusion. He rarely goes out in public anymore, preferring to stay on his ranch outside of Vancouver. He has the unique distinction of both being a traitor to humanity and the savior of Ottawa.

He gestures to an Adirondack chair surrounding a fire pit behind his house. Ken turns around and asks the woman standing behind him if she would like to join. The woman shakes her head no. The woman, in her early forties, has a lean muscular body and a shaved head. Swirling tattoos cover her arms and neck. Above the tattoos are severe burn scars on the left side of her neck and