Drew Hayes
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Aliens Wrecked Our Kegger - Author Commentary Edition: Chapter 5
🕑 Added 2024-02-01 12:00:05 +0000 UTCIn the short term, Zip Zip and Bloog had made a smart tactical decision. Dougie was neither prepared for their charge nor strong enough to stop them. Two-versus-one would have been a tough fight for Clyde as well, but at least he was ready for it. Dougie barely managed a squeal as they bumped him aside, Zip Zip looking back over his shoulder and yelling, “Much sorry!” before they vanished around a corner. Luckily, the long-term consequences of their decision meant they were going deeper into the frat house, rather than toward an exit. That gave Clyde the chance to cut them off.
Bolting back down the hall, Clyde nearly bounced off Smasher, who was lumbering around a corner. A near-injury, but also a stroke of luck. Maybe they could finish this quietly before it turned into an issue. Clyde pointed across the room, to the exact spot where Zip Zip and Bloog suddenly popped out from their escape attempt.
“We’ve got thieves, Smasher. Stop them.”
Smasher’s eyes narrowed as he took in the pair, still holding the half-sized keg between them. Slow as he was in everyday life, that was an intentional choice Smasher made. Someone his size would be breaking things all the time if he was careless, so Smasher made a point of taking care and being deliberate with his actions. He didn’t move quickly, but that wasn’t the same as saying that he couldn’t when the occasion demanded.
There was no hesitation. Once he got his orders, Smasher charged through the room, shattering a coffee table under his boots rather than waste seconds going around. Zip Zip and Bloog checked their surroundings, instantly realizing there was nowhere to take cover. Bloog, who was rapidly proving to be the brains of their operation, reacted with surprising speed. Dropping his part of the keg, Bloog reached around to his back and produced something that looked a lot like a glowing tuning fork. When Smasher drew near, seconds from impact, Bloog whipped the fork around and tapped it gently against Smasher’s temple. Without so much as a shudder or a gasp, Smasher went crashing to the ground in a crumpled heap.
What the living fuck was that thing? It was like no Taser Clyde had ever seen — those created twitching and spasms when they hit. Smasher had dropped like a switch was flipped off; if not for that massive chest rising and falling, Clyde might have been concerned the big guy was dead.
He was still seeing red, though. Stealing from his party was one thing, but assaulting one of the brothers, his friend at that, was a whole other issue. Clyde didn’t have Smasher’s speed or strength, but he’d gotten his ass-kicked enough in childhood to learn the basics of fighting back. Grabbing the nearest item he could, a lamp that just so happened to be hideous but was one of Fashion Tony’s favorite features, Clyde ran forward intending to knock them upside the head.
Unfortunately, that was the moment Dougie popped up behind Zip Zip and Bloog. “Guys, what happened, why is Smasher on the grou— Clyde, what the hell are you doing?”
Clyde slowed slightly, not wanting to catch Dougie up in a brawl. Bloog realized the situation quickly, too damn quickly, and grabbed Dougie by the shoulder. “Stop now. We leave. You remain. Dougie stay safe until we’re gone.”
“He’s been knocked out before, he’ll survive,” Clyde shot back, lifting his lamp higher.
“Last time was stun. Device has other settings.” With a twitch of Bloog’s thumb, the glow on the tuning fork turned an ominous shade of red. It felt like a bluff, there was a tad too much showmanship, but Clyde couldn’t risk it. They’d shrunk a keg and dropped the biggest dude in the house with a touch; whatever was going on here was clearly some weird shit.
The most infuriating part was that Clyde wasn’t even sure Dougie realized he was in danger; there was zero concern in his younger brother’s face as he followed Zip Zip’s hurriedly whispered instructions to help haul the keg. Bloog stayed over his shoulder, tuning fork in hand, ready to strike the moment Clyde started moving again.
“I get it. This is one of your events, isn’t it, Clyde?” Dougie asked, marveling at the glowing instrument of death inches from him. “You even put a sci-fi spin on it for me. I have to admit, you really went the extra mile tonight. This is a lot more fun than I expected.”
“Dougie, play it cool. Don’t say or do anything too stupid until they let you go.” Clyde watched as the trio slowly made their way around him, back to the hallway that led to the front door. “As for you two assholes, you better keep him safe. This isn’t over, and if you hurt him then it never will be. I’m not known for my capacity to get over things or let them go.”
Somehow unaware of the danger, Dougie laughed. “Dial it back a little; you were never cut out for theater. Props on the commitment, though.”
“He will stay safe,” Zip Zip assured Clyde. “Dougie is friend.”
“Safe, yes. Safe unless you make him not safe.” Bloog didn’t echo the sentiments of friendship, which only went to show he was the more aware of the two. Friend and hostage weren’t two titles that one could honestly put on the same person at once.
Moving fast, now that they had someone else to help haul the keg, they tore out of the room, racing down the hallway until the door shut. Once they were gone, Clyde closed his eyes and began to think. Tracking Dougie would be simple — their mother had given Clyde access to Dougie’s phone’s GPS the day he came to college, just in case. A delay would be smart, to ensure that the keg-thieves didn’t know he was following. Calling the cops was a temptation; however, he was pretty sure they weren’t going to believe two guys with weird names and sci-fi tech had kidnapped his brother to make off with a stolen keg. No, that was a route that ended with him in a cell, if not a psych ward. This was going to be a personal endeavor.
Luckily, Clyde was quite good at planning.
First things first, Clyde bent down to check on Smasher. Breathing was still steady, but he’d been out for a couple of minutes already. It might be time to call an ambulance and hope they had some way to deal with whatever those weirdos had done. Just as Clyde was pulling out his phone, Smasher’s eyes popped open and he sat straight up, looking around the room in confusion.
“Huh? Where… what happened?”
“The exchange students hit you with some weird stun-device, then ran off with the keg and Dougie,” Clyde explained. “Take a minute and make sure you’re feeling okay. If anything is wrong, we’ll run you by the hospital. Otherwise, I could really use your help. We have to go get my brother back and make sure those dicks know what happens to people who fuck with Omicron Phi.”
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One of my rules for action is that it should, as much as possible, serve to further the story along with being spectacle. I think that’s because I have a bad habit of skimming the purely action scenes in books if I feel they’re superfluous, so I work to be cognizant of it in my own work.
Here we get to see some character development from all involved based on the actions they each take. Smasher demonstrates his trust in Clyde, along with his physical competency. Dougie shows off how disconnected from reality he is. With the aliens, we see that Bloog is the more aggressive of the two, whereas Zip Zip is more ready to show loyalty and compassion.
As for Clyde, he has the uncanny ability to accept the truth before him and roll with it, rather than grapple with an existential breakdown over the sci-fi shit occurring before his eyes. A talent that will definitely come in handy with the night he still has ahead.
I wouldn’t say I always manage to add character development into a scene’s action, and I’ve certainly written a few that were spectacle for the fun of it, but this one where the choices each character made helped reflect who they were.
