Prologue

IN TWO days, it was that time of year again. A time of fear, of uncertainty, of pain. One entire segment of the population held their breath, hoping and praying that their number wouldn’t be called.

Because if it was, they would be whisked away to a distant planet, and who knew what really happened then. The unknown fate that awaited them on that alien world was enough to send shivers down anyone’s spine.

Running wasn’t an option. They’d hunt you to the ends of the Earth. Plus, there was nowhere to run to. Their reach extended to the far corners of the Earth, leaving no place to hide. Fucking aliens took men from all over the world. That humans would do such a thing to other humans was hard to understand.

Chad had heard horror stories about those who had tried to run in the early days of the harvest. The government made it clear what would happen to anyone who tried to shelter runners—and none of it was pretty.

Trying to stand up for what was right would end up costing you your job, your family, your life savings, your home, your very freedom.

The United States of America was firmly in the corner of the Tah’Narians. This was why there was no warning when they came to get you. The fuckers.

Chad opened his front door, mumbling, “Finally. Know what time it is?”

“And a good morning to you, too, you ass.”

Dale jerked his hand back before he knocked on Chad’s face. “The truck was locked, so I dumped my stuff in the back with yours.”

“Man, we were supposed to be out of here thirty minutes ago,”

Chad groused as he grabbed what remained of his camping stuff by the door. “What the hell was the holdup? You get lost walking across the yard or what? Ever heard of this wonderful invention called a clock? Or a phone?”

“Want me to yank that stick out of your ass or let you do it?”

Dale asked with a shrug, unfazed by the hissy fit coming at him.

“Sure, but only if I can beat you over the head with it.”

“Boy, you got your panties in a wad this morning.”

Dale sighed loudly for effect and then held up the tin-wrapped paper plate so Chad could see it. “Be nice or else you don’t get this cool surprise I brought with me. And since you dragged me out of bed at the ass-crack of dawn—”

Chad ran his hand over the top of his head, a slight blush staining his cheeks. “Shit. Sorry, man.”

“No problem. We’re staying the night, right?”

“That’s the plan.”

Chad rubbed his hands together, grinning like a loon. “So, what’s this surprise you got?”

“After that greeting? Oh, no, you have to wait until we finish getting the truck packed up.”

Dale laughed at the eager look on Chad’s face. “You ready?”

“Yeah, I want every damn minute to count on this trip, you know?”

Chad mumbled as they walked to the truck. “It may be the last time I get—”

“Don’t,”

Dale said quietly, all laughter gone. “You don’t know what’s going to happen when the lottery numbers are drawn, Chad. Don’t start burning bridges until we have to, okay?”

“I know, I know, but it’s in two days.”

Chad’s voice dropped. “You don’t understand. You’re under the age limit—you don’t have to deal with this shit. You don’t know what it’s like having this hanging over your head—knowing you could be dragged into this stupid alien space program thingy against your will.”

Silence greeted that remark as they loaded up the truck, then Chad checked to make sure they had everything they needed. Blowing his hair out of his eyes, he faced Dale and tried to smile to take the sting out of his words. Unfortunately, the smile never made it to his sky-blue eyes.

“Man, you really did a number on your hair.”

Dale shook his head as he looked at the choppy blond waves.

“Be glad I didn’t shave the shit,”

Chad huffed. “I’ve heard they have a thing for longer hair, so I cut mine.”

Chad’s blond hair barely touched his collarbone now. On his birthday, he’d received his lottery number, and in a fit of rage and desperation, he’d cut off his long blond hair.

He’d been growing it for years, and it’d been halfway down his back. His mom cried when she saw the devastation wrought by the scissors.

Chad waved his hand as if clearing the air of a bad smell. “I really don’t want to think about what’s coming up. So, what’s the surprise you’re holding over my head?”

“Homemade brownies.”

Dale held the paper plate wrapped in tinfoil as he climbed in the passenger side of Chad’s truck. “That’s why I was late. Mom baked them for us this morning.”

“Oh shit, gimme!”

Chad buckled up and held his hand out. “Man, you can be as late as you want as long as your mom’s brownies are involved. Hell, I only hang out with you for her brownies. Jesus, they’re sinful.”

“About this unnatural addiction to my mother’s brownies….”

Dale handed Chad one. “You know that admitting you need help is the first step, right?”

Chad started the truck, smacking his lips happily. “Can’t hear you. I’m having a private moment with these brownies.”

He moaned around a mouthful of chocolate, eyes rolling.

“You’re such an ass.”

“Blah, blah, blah, still can’t hear you.”

Chad demolished the brownie, licked his fingers, and then held his hand out. “Hit me again, dude.”

Dale chuckled and passed another brownie over, shaking his head. “You’re gonna eat the whole plate before we even make it to the highway at this rate. Slow down.”

“As if that’s a bad thing.”

Chad grinned, his earlier tension melting away with each bite. He shot a quick glance at Dale. “You know, you could’ve just told me about the brownies instead of making me sweat it out.”

“And miss the look on your face when I pulled them out? Never,”

Dale retorted.

Chad licked the crumbs off his fingers, then flipped Dale the bird. There were more brownies, but they were saving those for later.

The truck rumbled beneath them as they pulled out of the driveway and onto the open road. Trees blurred past, a green curtain waving them off on their adventure. A comfortable silence settled between them as miles rolled under the tires.

Eventually, Chad spoke up again, his voice softer than before. “Hey, man, thanks for doing this. For... putting up with me being an ass earlier. Means a lot.”

Dale looked over at him, clapping him on the shoulder reassuringly. “That’s what friends are for, right? Besides, can’t have you freaking out about a potential alien abduction right before we go fishing.”

Chad laughed, a strained sound that filled the small space of the truck. “Alien abduction—man, when you put it like that….”

“It sounds cool?”

Dale suggested.

“Try terrifying and surreal,”

Chad corrected, but he was still smiling—a real smile this time.

Their banter continued as they drove toward the lake. Chad breathed easier with each mile they covered, like the road was not just leading them toward their destination but also away from that horrible time which was fast approaching.

FORTY MINUTES later, they’d paid the camping fee. The truck bounced along the rugged trail as they made their way deeper into the woods. The conversation flowed more freely now, drifting from memories of past camping trips to debates over the best superhero movies.

The weight of impending events was momentarily lifted as they immersed themselves in the simplicity of their adventure as they finally made it to the lake.

“We made pretty good time,”

Chad said. “Let’s set the tent up so we get a good spot by the lake. Then we can get a little fishing in. Maybe we can swim later.”

They drove down to the main camping area and found a shady spot close to the lake. Chad hauled the tent out of the truck and started setting it up. Dale stood off to the side, ready for the show.

“Jesus, I hate this stupid thing.”

Chad thrashed around inside the tent. “What sadist thought having a frigging pole in the middle of a tent was a good idea?”

“You’d think after all these years camping, you’d be able to pitch a tent by now.”

Their annual camping trip was a time-honored tradition with rules they had to follow—Chad put the tent up, which included much swearing and many creative threats. Dale stood off to the side and laughed.

“Son of a bitch!”

Chad pinched his thumb and screamed about that for a full minute and a half.

Dale giggled.

“Not one word out of you,”

Chad snarked as he pushed his hair off his red, sweaty face. “That damn tent is possessed. Besides, where were you when that stupid thing tried to eat my hand?”

“Out here, laughing my ass off, where else?”

Dale smiled. “You’re the camping nut around here. I come for the entertainment.”

“I’m gonna burn that thing to the ground one day.”

“How many years have you been threatening that?”

Dale asked as he picked some sticks around them, then checked Chad’s thumb to make sure he hadn’t really hurt himself.

“Way too many.”

“That thing is as old as we are.”

“I know. It holds some damn fond memories.”

Chad had grown maudlin again.

“It sure does.”

Chad’s parents had moved next door to Dale’s family when Chad was seven and Dale was five. They’d forged a bond from their very first meeting and had been best friends all their lives.

“We done here?”

Dale asked. “You finished yelling at inanimate objects?”

“Now that you mention it—”

“Come on, you nutball. You can rant about that damn tent on the way to the lake. I want to get some fishing in today.”

Chad’s cell went off as they gathered the fishing gear. He checked the caller ID and, with a long-suffering sigh, put the phone to his ear. “Hey, Mom. Yeah, we got here okay. We’re fine, Mom, just fixing to do a little fishing. We’ll be home fairly early tomorrow. What? Yeah, definitely in time for dinner.”

Dale nodded in agreement.

“Okay, I’ll tell him. Love you, too, Mom. Bye.”

Chad pocketed his phone and turned to Dale with a big, cheesy smile. “Mom said to tell you she loves you.”

Totally unfazed, Dale flashed the cheesy grin back. “She’s the greatest.”

“She totally is. And she wants you to help me cut the hedge next weekend too. So there, you suck-up. Now, you ready for me to whoop your ass at some fishing?”

“That’ll be a first.”

Dale laughed as they headed to the lake.

“Yeah, well, if I don’t catch any fish, it’s only because the tent fucked up my thumb. I’m not gonna be able to cast for shit now,”

Chad grumbled.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Chad, enough about the tent already. And by the way? I am totally unconcerned with the threat of trimming hedges next weekend. The only problem I see is keeping you from using the trimmer on me. Or hurting yourself.”

“It was the one time! Damn, let it go, dude!”

“One time, my ass.”

“I’m going to kick your ass,”

Chad mockingly threatened.

“You and what army?”

Dale took off running toward their favorite fishing spot, Chad hot on his heels. Their laughter echoed through the trees as they dodged roots and low-hanging branches.

Reaching the bank breathless from laughter, they set up their rods.

As they baited hooks with worms, a comfortable silence settled between them. The only sounds were the gentle lapping of water against the shore and the distant calls of the birds.

Chad cast his line into the shimmering water first, followed by Dale. They watched as ripples spread outwards before settling once again into tranquility.

Chad sighed deeply. “I know I said I didn’t want to talk about it, but I just wanted you to know that no matter what happens? I’m glad we’re doing this.”

“Me too,”

Dale agreed softly. They returned their attention to their fishing poles.

HOURS PASSED with occasional catches. Neither were particularly concerned about keeping any fish. The afternoon shadows grew longer, golden sunlight dancing across the water’s surface.

Chad looked at Dale. “I’m getting hot. Think I’m going to go swimming for a while. You coming in?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

They reeled their lines in and laid the fishing poles on the bank. Dale tossed Chad his shirt, and Chad dropped it next to his. Taking off their shoes, they waded into the lake.

They took a break for lunch, then returned to fish and swim some more.

“YOU THINK we should start heading back soon? It’s getting late, and I’m not game on walking through the woods in the dark.”

Dale nodded, reeling in his line. “Yeah, let’s head back.”

They gathered their gear and started the trek back to their campsite. By the time they arrived at their makeshift camp, dusk had settled in earnest, painting the sky with strokes of purple and orange.

Dale got a fire going while Chad dragged out hot dogs from a cooler for them to roast.

“Here,”

Dale said, sitting a lawn chair beside Chad.

“Thank you. And here you go.”

Chad tossed a soda to Dale, who caught it handily. “To surviving another year of camping with the world’s most assholish tent.”

Dale pulled the tab on his soda, then clinked it against Chad’s. “And to many more to come.”

Chad grimaced but didn’t say anything.

As night enveloped them, they sat in the glow of their campfire. The flames flickered across their faces, casting playful shadows onto the surrounding canvas of darkness.

“I love camping,”

Chad said eventually, enjoying the crackling of firewood.

Dale looked into the flames. “Me too. Honestly can’t imagine not doing it.”

“Same.”

Their conversation dwindled as Chad lost himself in the natural peace around them. He didn’t have to say a whole lot because Dale just got it. Got him.

Eventually, they decided to turn in for the night. As they settled into their sleeping bags inside the infamous tent, Chad turned toward Dale in the darkness.

“You know,”

he murmured sleepily, “despite everything, these have always been the best days of my life.”

Dale smiled faintly, already half asleep. “Same here, man. Same here.”