They Came From Deep Space

By Carlos B. Camacho

They Came From Deep Space is a collection of three science fiction novellas and two short stories. These gripping and thrilling literary works have a lot of suspense and unexpected twists. Three of them take place in South America.

 

"Julius Hoffmann lived in a small town near Leipzig, Germany. It was exactly one O'clock in the afternoon on May 20, 2030, when he first noticed it; that dark spot in his house backyard. It was unusually warm for that time of year. He had taken a break from his work as a welder in his home workshop and was eating lunch outside in the shade of a mulberry tree when he suddenly realized that there was something wrong with the early afternoon sunlight.

In the middle of the backyard, there was a strange, black circular blot where there had to be sunlight. At the beginning, he thought it might be a tiny passing cloud, casting its shadow down to earth. However, not only was it perfectly round, but it was much darker than ordinary shadow as it steadily floated on the lawn. Had it been projected by a low-flying passing cloud, it would have shifted and changed in shape. Not only did that black disk lie steadily on the ground but it also seemed to stir the air around it in a whirlwind-like fashion. The grass and flowers lying inside and immediately around it waved from side to side, while the rest of the garden plants and the mulberry tree branches were static...

Then he looked more intently at it and became aware that more than a round shade, it looked like a weird black mole. He also noticed how the rose...

Klaus sat on the low stool he brought along with him and began twirling a fat knob to adjust the azimuth and point the telescope barrel in the direction of the subject to be observed. Then he set his eye on the eyepiece as he turned the small, focusing wheel to zoom in on whatever object was up there in the sky projecting the round, unusually dark shadow onto the surface of the Earth...

'It's exactly at a point where you get off the pull of the Earth's gravity. It's weird, because it doesn't seem to move at all, neither from side to side nor up and down. It doesn't even tremble. It's just there, eerily steady, like a tiny dark disk, fixed in space, hovering on the edge of the gravity boundary,' Klaus said." Excerpt from They Came On Doomsday.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Carlos Benito Camacho
• Release date: Jan 14, 2024
• ISBN: 9798223941965

Book preview

Carlos B. Camacho

Titles of all six stories

-Off The Grid

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-They Came On Doomsday

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-The Resurrection

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-The Locked Up Secrets

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-Out of The Blue

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-The Voice

Off The Grid

Carlos B. Camacho

Chapter I

A sandy-haired, 51-year-old man lay on a gurney in the morgue of a private hospital in the city of Tucuman, Argentina. According to his passport, his name was Daniel McKenzie. He was a tourist on his way to the Andean valleys of the northwest, as it had been attested by the travel agency guide, who witnessed the incident.

McKenzie had been stabbed in the shoulder by a pickpocket who tried to steal his wallet on the street. As soon as he had felt the thief’s fingers wiggled into his pants back pocket, he had whisked his assailant’s hand off with a fast swinging whip of his forearm that moved behind him across the lower portion of his back. Just as he had spun around to face the pickpocket, the aggressor plunged his small dagger in McKenzie’s shoulder. Then the thief had run away at full speed, disappearing around the corner. The tour guide had run after him, but the the pickpocket had already gotten lost among the crowd of pedestrians.

Oh my God! Somebody call 911, please! A woman from Buenos Aires had said. She was also part of the group of tourists doing the city tour.

McKenzie had crouched, with one knee resting on the tiled sidewalk. He had screwed up his face in pain. His blue shirt had a rather large purple stain as blood had slowly seeped through the cotton fabric. However, it had not been a serious wound, as the knife blade had not damaged any artery; even though it had sunk in deeply, right below the collarbone, cutting only a couple of secondary veins and capillaries.

I don’t think I need the ambulance. It’s painful but I’m fine. I can still move my hand and arm. It looks like the knife didn’t cut any nerve or tendon, he had said, to the other tourists.

But you still need to go to a hospital to have your wound cleansed and stitched up, and get the antibiotics and antitetanic shots, had said another tourist, who was apparently a doctor.

Is he OK? The tour guide had asked the ambulance paramedics, who had taken about fifteen minutes for them to arrive.

It looks like it’s not a serious wound, but we need to take an x-ray shot to see if his lung wasn’t pierced, and he might stay the night at the hospital, one of the paramedics had said.

Do I have to go along with him? The tour guide had said.

It’s not necessary. We’ll take care of him. Don’t worry, the paramedic had said.

Not only had he been conscious on the way to the hospital but he had also been able to walk and talk normally during the forty five minutes he had waited before he was treated. He had also been awake and cognizant when they cleansed and stitched up his wound as he sat on the examination table in the ambulatory medical room of the hospital.

Ouch, that smarts, he had said, as the nurse squirted antiseptic spray into his wound. Daniel McKenzie was able to speak Spanish fluently.

Now, it’s gonna hurt a bit. I’m gonna suture up the legion tightly, she had said, as she prepared the surgical needle and string.

Then I can go? Daniel McKenzie had asked. But the nurse had not answered as she began to work on the open gash.

There, you are, the nurse had said, as she finally did the last stitch.

Can I leave now? he had asked.

Nope, I still have to give you the antibiotic. It’s gonna be administered through intravenous route. So, lie down on the examination table and roll up your shirt sleeve, she had said, as her cell phone rang precisely at that moment. It was a short ringtone. The nurse answered the message right away.

Dr. Levin will give you the antibiotic. He’s coming, the nurse had said. Go. Don’t stay, she had said, looking at him in the eyes, shaking her head, before she had gone out of the examination room. But she had said it in such a low voice that Daniel could not hear clearly enough, and he was not sure what she had exactly said.

Hi! I’m Dr. Levin. You must be Mr. McKenzie, right? a man wearing a white coat had said, looking at the patients list for drug prescriptions.

That’s right, Daniel had said.

I have to give you the antibiotic, he had said.

I thought that it was the nurse’s job, Daniel had said.

Yes, but she has other things to do right now, the man wearing the white coat had said.

Dr. Levin had set up the intravenous drip stand beside the examination table and hung the hydration fluid bag on it. Next he had tied up a rubber tourniquet around his arm to expose the median cubital vein. He had pierced it with the cannulation needle and then he had left the cannula inside the vein. He had fitted the thin, fluid bag tube into the cannula port.

That hurt a bit, Daniel had said.

Now, I’m gonna administer the antibiotic into your vein, the physician had said, holding a syringe in his hand.

The man wearing the white coat had inserted the short syringe needle into the side port, which was below the fluid bag drip chamber, and discharged the liquid stuff into the fluid tube. The stuff that flowed into Daniel’s cubital vein was not antibiotic but Fentanyl.

Are you from the United States? The doctor had asked, making conversation.

Yeah, I’m from Ohio, but right now I’m living in West Virginia, Daniel had said, as he began to feel a bit dizzy at first. Then the dizziness had been followed by an overwhelming wave of dark sleepiness that spread throughout his body.

What’s going on. I want to go home, he had mumbled, in a barely audible voice.

He had tried to sit up and talk but a massive muscle relaxation had spread throughout his body and squashed flat his will and awareness. Then he had sighed and closed his eyes as he had begun to spiral down into a deep slumber.

As he fell into the dark abyss of unconsciousness, he had dreamed of his childhood in vivid details; he had seen his mother, father, siblings, and grandparents all sitting together around the family table, smiling, laughing, with the sunshine pouring through the kitchen window and filling the space inside with natural light. In this dream, he had leaned over the table and stretched his arm across it to reach his mother’s hand. But as he tried to hold her hand, the sunlight had suddenly gone out. It was another blackout; the blackout that led to death.

He had been admitted into the emergency ward, with the diagnose of pneumonia and covid-19, which was hand-written on the stretcher tag. However, he had stayed only half an hour on the 3rd floor ward. Now Daniel lay on a gurney in the hospital morgue, on the underground floor. He had just been pronounced dead and his body was still warm. However, he was not entirely dead, for he still had an almost imperceptible feeble pulse, which could not be felt manually with the hand fingers.

The vital sign monitor had not pronounced him dead, because it could still read his heart beat. It was Anna, the nurse who had stitched up his chest wound in the examination room, who did so. She had just disconnected the monitor wiring and written ‘deceased’ on the tag that was attached to the gurney railing.

She had called the stretcher bearers and told them to take Daniel McKenzie down to the morgue. She had done it before the arrival of the executioner in the emergency ward; Dr. Pichinetti who administered the overdose of Midazolam on patients who arrived alone, with no known relatives, such as drifters and tourists, and other circumstantial and convenient patients.

He did that because he was ordered by the drug and human organ traffickers network boss, and also because he was paid a treasure trove of extra money. Human organs were extremely expensive and they were exported to the United States, Israel, and Europe. Although Anna felt remorse and she felt empathy for patients, she was afraid of talking about it and reporting it to the local police; she was afraid of being killed.

She was well aware of all the illegal activities that were going on under the guise of ‘science of medicine and ‘the government health system’ but, for some reason, she kept the secret information to herself. She found herself caught in her working circumstances. However, this time she had been able to summon up all her courage to do something to save a patient’s life; a different patient, a foreigner from a faraway land.

She lied to the emergency ward chief. She had told him that the patient had already died before he could administer the Midazolam overdose to provoke his death. She had said that McKenzie’s heart had stopped because he could not resist the first Fentanyl dose. This synthetic drug was a powerful opioid which was one hundred times stronger than morphine and could easily cause heart failure at normal doses used for complex surgical procedures.

Where is he now? Dr. Pichinetti inquired.

I sent him to the morgue about five minutes ago, Ann said.

Great. I’ll go to my car to get the cooler with the ice. It might take more than fifteen minutes. It’s more than two blocks from here. That’s the only parking space I could find, he said, as he turned around and left.

As soon as the executioner disappeared behind the door, Anna went straight to the hospital dispensary, grabbed a syringe and liquid-containing vial, and hurried downstairs to the morgue. Using the syringe and a needle, she took out the drug from the vial and injected it into Daniel’s arm vein.

The drug was Doxapram; an efficient analeptic, which is a central nervous system stimulant, especially a respiratory and heart rate centers stimulant. These nervous centers are found in the medulla oblongata at the base of the brain. Oxapram was usually used to treat addicted patients who gave themselves an overdose of barbiturate or heroin. It was also administered to patients bitten by elapid snakes, such as mambas, cobras, and taipan and eastern brown snake to accelerate the heart rate and stimulate breathing.

About four minutes had gone by when Daniel McKenzie began to breathe normally. Then he opened his eyes as he slowly came back into consciousness. He turned his head from side to side to look around.

Where am I? he said.

You’re in the hospital basement. You passed out. Now you have to sit up and breath deeply. We don’t have much time, Anna said, pulling his arm to help him sit up on the gurney.

After a couple of minutes, Daniel stood up, yawning and stretching. He was completely naked, just like anyone else who was in an emergency ward. As he breathed in deeply and exhaled, he slowly started to become aware of his surrounding circumstances and of what had happened before he fell asleep. At that moment they heard the elevator go up. Somebody had called it from the ground level.

Anna quickly grabbed the forensic hammer, known as the skull breaker, and scampered across the morgue floor. She stood beside the elevator door, waiting as she looked sideways. As soon as the executioner stepped out into the morgue, Anna struck him hard on the side of the head near the temple. The emergency ward chief dropped the cooler, rolled his eyes upwards, and then slumped to the floor, with a thud. Blood ran down the side of his face profusely.

What happened? What did you do that for? Daniel inquired, astonished, gazing at the body lying on the white floor in a growing pool of blood.

He’s the man who was going to kill you to get your organs out, she said.

Why? What did I do? he said.

Nothing. You’re a foreigner. You don’t have any relatives here to ask for your whereabouts at hospitals or report your disappearance to the police. You’re a very convenient victim, she said.

Where are we going now? Daniel said, still somewhat dazed.

Come on! Hurry up! And don’t forget to put your clothes on, Anna said, as she handed them to him, looking at his large entire stark nakedness.

I have to go back to my hotel first to pick up my stuff, he said.

Yes, I know. What’s the address of your hotel? she asked.

It’s 755 Santiago Street, he said.

Anna took out her cell phone and dialed a number. She held the phone to her ear as she waited, looking at Daniel sideways.

Hi Mario! It’s me Anna. Are you on duty today? she said.

Nope. It’s my day off today, the man said.

"Can you pick me up from King Hotel in twenty minutes? It’s on 755 Santiago Street.

Yeah, I’ll be there in twenty minutes, he said, on the other end of the line.

Anna and Daniel quickly climbed up the stairway and got out of the building basement. Then they walked briskly, away from the hospital. She looked back every now and then as they went.

Come on Daniel! Hurry up! They won’t call the police when they find the dead executioner. They’ll just kill us if they catch us, she said.

I have my mouth dry. I’m thirsty, he said.

It’s the side effect of the analeptic drug that I gave you to wake you up, she said.

As they headed in the direction of the hotel, they stopped to buy two bottles of mineral water and a bag of potatoes chips from a street vendor booth. He looked at her carefully for the first time as she paid. Although she looked forty, she was still a beautiful woman, in good shape, but she did not have the appearance of a local woman, and she spoke Spanish with a strange accent that could hardly be noticed.

Here you are. You need salt and water. Drink, she said.

They kept walking fast, almost running. When they arrived at the King Hotel, he went up to his room to pick up his traveling luggage. Anna waited for him downstairs in the foyer. Just as Daniel rode down the elevator, a gray Renault car pulled up in front of the hotel. The driver blew the horn twice.

Anna and Daniel came out quickly and got into the car. Then the driver pulled away from the curb as fast as he could, revving up the engine at full throttle. When they hit a broad boulevard, they turned right and drove straight in the direction of the mountain range.

That’s all you have? she asked.

Yes, I always travel light, Daniel said, looking sideways at his small wheeled suitcase, which was on the back seat beside him.

I want you to meet Mario, an old friend of mine, Anna said.

Hello Mario. It’s nice to meet you, he said.

Hi Daniel! I heard you almost got killed he said, glancing at him through the rear view mirror.

Yeah! Twice! he said.

You’ll be safe now, where we’re going to, Mario said.

Yeah, by the way, where are we heading to? he said.

We’re going to a hidden place at the foot of those jungle-covered hills you can see in front. It was an abandoned old mansion, but we cleaned it and freshened it up with a new coat of paint on the interior walls, she said.

Daniel could barely see the mountain chain in front. The afternoon sun was climbing down the vault of the sky and dazzled his eyes. After twenty minutes ride, they were at the foot of a long ridge. The driver turned left onto a dirt road which ran parallel to the length of the ridge.

I need you to give me your cell phone, Daniel. It’s for security reason, Anna demanded, kindly.

Why? I’ve got my flights schedule and tickets there. How am I going to go back home? he said.

I think you know very well why, Mario said, to Daniel.

"Yes, I know. They’re already after us.