A Cold Spell - 3. Like a Moth to a Flame

Irene Mosely was already in bed asleep that Tuesday night. She would be up and at the Thomason House Bed and Breakfast by 6:00am to start making breakfast for Brad’s and Jack’s guests. She very much enjoyed cooking breakfast, serving it, and talking to all the interesting people who stayed at the inn. She didn’t even mind cleanup and doing the dishes. Irene was a 66-year old widow with no children, and her 35-year old niece Rayann Willis, who lived just down the road, was the housekeeper at the inn.

They rode to and from work together most days, and they both really liked Brad and Jack both as friends and employers. Neither lady gave two hoots if some of their narrow-minded neighbors judged the guys for being gay. Rayann had gone to school with Jack, and while she was surprised when he figured out he was gay and got together with Brad after having previously been married to and divorced from a woman, she had never judged.

Rayann just always figured there was enough hate in this world already without hating people over who they happened to love. Besides, as a single mother of a two year old daughter (“the product of a one night stand gone wrong,” as Rayann liked to wryly describe her situation sometimes, even though she loved her daughter Melinda with all her heart) Rayann knew all too well herself what it was like to be judged by a bunch of narrow-minded nitwits who called themselves “Christians,” but acted decidedly un-Christ-like.

As for Irene, she was retired from the cafeteria of the decidedly liberal and gay-friendly Pleasant View College. That institution, with its long history of tolerance and inclusiveness for all people, was largely responsible for Pleasant View being, at least mostly, something of an island of liberal sanity in what was otherwise a sea of red-state stupidity.

Rayann and Melinda were both asleep that night as well. Indrid drove the old Cadillac past Irene’s house, and then past Rayann’s trailer, as he proceeded on out Old Taylor Road, which went several miles out into the rural countryside after leaving Pleasant View. Indrid stopped just around a bend from Rayann’s place. Soon he saw the familiar shape appearing in a nearby field. He turned the Cadillac through a gate and drove it across the field and into the door which had just opened on one end of the other vehicle.

The vehicle looked very much like the globe of an old-fashioned kerosene lamp, turned on its side. Woodrow Derenberger of Parkersburg, West Virginia had revealed way too much about both the vehicle, and about Indrid himself, once upon a time long ago, Indrid reflected once the door had closed and he stepped out of the Cadillac inside the other vehicle. Of course, Mr. Derenberger had not really had any idea of what exactly he was encountering.

As fantastic as Derenberger’s tale was to all who heard it, the truth about Mr. Cold and his strange vehicle would have been even more shocking, had anyone ever know it then – or since. That troublesome Gray Barker had gotten all too close to the truth in his dreamlike speculations in that damned book The Silver Bridge, but he too was far from the complete truth.

The vehicle soon rose silently out of the farm field, and turned in the general direction of Pleasant View. Indrid by now had made his way from the end of it in which the Cadillac and other supplies were stored, to the other end where the control bridge was located. He greeted his companion, and then they both noted that the vehicle was not gaining altitude as rapidly as it should be. And its normal silence was replaced by a shuddering, thumping roar not unlike that of a helicopter’s rotors. Indrid noted that he must really tell them that a vehicle of this age begins to show its age, and that the noise was counterproductive to their missions, in spite of the fact the vehicle was probably still perfectly safe.

This noise first woke Melinda, who began to cry. The combination of her daughter’s crying and the gawdawful racket Indrid’s vehicle was making scarcely 500 feet above her trailer roused Rayann from her sleep, as well. She looked out the bedroom window just as Indrid and his fellow traveler had cleared the roof of her trailer. They were slowly gaining altitude now, and Melinda screamed in disbelief as she saw what was banking toward town, and rising higher in the clear night sky, as it started to pass over her aunt Irene’s nearby farmhouse.

The thing looked like a coal-oil lamp’s globe turned on its side, was a dull metallic gray, and Melinda could see lights in the few windows in its side, but no lights whatsoever on the outside of it. The noise it had been making faded away to nothing as it passed on over Irene’s house. It soon rose rapidly higher into the sky, disappearing from sight as it seemed to be going on toward town.

Irene was asleep as Indrid and his companion flew over her house that night. She was a sound sleeper, so the noise did not wake her up at all. However, she was at that very same time having a very bad nightmare. Everything in Irene’s dream was murky around the edges, sort of the way they do the focus for a dream sequence on one of her soaps, as she would later describe it. But, Irene recognized the scene immediately. It was clearly that big old rusty bridge that crossed the Shawnee River just on the east side of Pleasant View. In the dream it was as if Irene was standing on the riverbank in what must have been the new park the city had developed there.

The old bridge had not been in use for years, and the railroad tracks which once crossed it had been removed, but the structure still remained in place. The city had hopes of converting it to a pedestrian bridge and connecting it to the new park, but everyone in town figured the old bridge would be too far gone to save before the city could ever manage to find a source of funding for such a project. In Irene’s dream, an old-fashioned stern-wheel riverboat was steaming up the river toward the old railroad bridge. Irene could see indistinct faces on the boat’s decks, and hear the laughter and pleasant conversations reaching her on the shore from those on the boat.

Just as the steamboat was passing in under the old bridge, the main span of the bridge trembled and fell on top of the boat, splintering it, and pitching screaming people into the water. What remained of the boat soon shuddered and started to go under, with smoke and screams filling Irene’s senses and terrifying her so much that she awoke with a scream, at about the same time that Rayann was screaming in her nearby trailer from seeing Indrid’s mysterious vehicle pass overhead. Just before she screamed herself awake, in the dream Irene saw the form of a winged creature soaring into the sky over the crumpled remains of the boat and the bridge.

Meanwhile, back in town at the inn, Brad had brought Jack to a wonderful orgasm by giving him a blowjob and taking every drop of the Chief's delicious cop cum. Jack had returned the favor, and finished Brad off with his big warm hand, enjoying Brad’s moans as his cum had shot all over them both. Jack had licked his man clean, and they had soon drifted off to sleep. They both had been so fucking horny from their conversation earlier that evening with Justin and Eric, and the release was much-needed for them both. They had told each other, “I love you,” just before turning off the light after getting each other off so hard.

The clock on the nightstand read 1:03am when Jack’s cell phone began to ring.

“Hullo, Chief Albertson speaking,” Jack answered groggily, as Brad woke up next to him. They both could plainly hear the panicked jumble that soon emitted from Jack’s phone.

“Jack, it’s Rayann!” Came the housekeeper’s panicked voice, which indicated that she was clearly on the verge of tears. “I didn’t know what else to do so I called you – I didn’t want to just call 911…oh GOD!” In the background Jack could make out Irene’s own frantic sounding voice, although he couldn’t really tell what she was saying. And he could also hear Melinda crying, and a dog barking.

“OK, Rayann, just calm down, and try to tell me what is going on,” Jack requested.

“Well, I’m over here at Aunt Irene’s. I just grabbed the baby and ran through the field to her house – I didn’t even put on shoes and the baby probably didn’t have enough cover on it is so cold tonight – but I was just so scared,” Rayann blurted, all in one fast stream.

“What happened?” Jack asked again.

“Well, I heard this awful noise like a helicopter, and when I got up and looked out, it was this – God, Jack, I don’t know what the hell it was, but it was heading toward town after it flew over Aunt Irene’s house. I know you will think I’m crazy, but I think I saw a UFO, Jack,” Rayann concluded.

“Do you want me to send a patrol car out there?” Jack asked, wondering what the hell else was going to start happening in the area next.

“We don’t live in the city limits, Jack,” Rayann said rather absently. It was clear she was in shock, and her mind was wondering to Jack’s lack of jurisdiction out where they lived to keep itself off whatever she had witnessed.

“I know that,” Jack said trying to sound reassuring, “but I could ask the Sheriff’s Department to send a deputy out there.”

“Well, it’s gone now, so I don’t guess it really matters. But, I’m gonna sleep the rest of the night here at Aunt Irene’s,” Rayann said, sounding like she was starting to calm down some now. She continued, “She was upset when I got over here anyway, she didn’t see or hear that thing, but she said she had just had a real bad nightmare though.”

“Well, if you are sure you all are going to be all right,” Jack said.

“We’re fine. But you might seriously want your guys to see if that thing passes over town – I swear I’m not crazy, Jack,” Rayann said, sounding unsure herself.

“I believe you, Rayann. Try to get some rest,” Jack said. “Bradley is right here next to me and he’s heard what we were talking about. Neither of us will blame y’all if you are a little late getting here in the morning.”

“Nah, we’ll be on time, don’t worry about that,” Rayann said, then said goodnight.

Jack then called the station and told the officer on duty to notify the Sheriff’s Department and the State Police that he had just received a report of an Unidentified Flying Object that was potentially approaching or over Pleasant View at this time, coming in from the direction of Old Taylor Road. “And notify our units on patrol in town to let dispatch know if they spot anything,” Jack concluded.

“A UFO?” Came the incredulous voice of Lt. Botkins, “Are you pulling my fuckin’ leg, Chief?”

“Goddamit, Botkins,” Jack thundered into his phone, “Would I wake my big ass up out of a sound sleep at 1:00 in the fucking morning to pull your fucking leg?”

“Um, no sir!” Botkins quickly replied.

“That’s what I thought,” Jack replied. “Now do what I told you, and let me know if any sort of emergency arises from this. Otherwise I will expect a full report when I get to the station later this morning.”

“What do you make of that?” Brad asked after Jack had clicked off his phone, as they lay there side by side naked in the dark.

“Hell if I know,” Jack said honestly. “First the fucking Mothman, now a UFO. This really is starting to sound like West Virginia, circa 1967. I think someone is fucking with us, though, and not in a good way. Probably those assholes at the Army Depot, truth be known,” Jack guessed.

The still-active Thoroughbred Army Depot 25 miles to the north of Pleasant View had long been a source of controversy. It had been confirmed that the stealth bombers had been test-flown out of the facility several years before, well before the public knew that either the bombers or the airstrip at the Depot either even existed. This, doubtlessly, had been the source of many UFO repots in the area in Brad’s and Jack’s childhoods. Brad was also thinking that the Depot was just the same sort of place the Mothman’s old haunt at the TNT Area in West Virginia had once been. “Yeah,” Brad said, “It does sound like the kind of shit they would be mixed up in, but who knows.”

“Well hopefully the world won’t end before morning and we can get some more sleep,” Jack said with a yawn, pulling Brad closer and putting an arm around his bare shoulders. They kissed.

Meanwhile in downtown, Officer Ed Higgins, a 25-year veteran of the Pleasant View PD, was a bit disbelieving when he got the call over the radio in his patrol car to be on the lookout for a UFO. This did, however, remind him of the rash of such sightings which had still been occurring back around the time he had first joined the force.

He scanned the skies over Main Street, and didn’t see anything other than the bright nearly-full moon. He turned the car down Brown Avenue, which passed through the middle of the picturesque Pleasant View College campus. In the center of campus, on the peak of a hill, stood a very tall marble column, which had a natural gas-fed eternal flame on top of it. This was the War Memorial the college had erected to its students and other area residents who had lost their lives serving in World War II. Officer Higgins had seen no signs of a UFO as he rounded the curve where the War Memorial came into view on Brown Avenue.

However, what he did see made him bring the Dodge Charger to a screeching halt. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, but he had to get a better look at it, just the same. There, hovering just over the eternal flame was a winged figure with huge, glowing red eyes. When Higgins looked directly at the eyes, he felt somehow mesmerized and more than a little fearful. He soon got out of the police car and started walking slowly down the middle of the deserted street toward the Memorial.

He gazed upward in disbelief, as the large winged creature continued to hover above the flame. He could make out a dark gray, muscular body and those huge wings plainly now, as he was no more than 30 feet from the base of the 100-foot-tall War Memorial. And those huge glowing red eyes sent a chill through him when they peered down at him for an instant. He reached in his pocket for his cell, and took several pictures rapidly, thinking that nobody would ever believe this shit if he didn’t have proof. He then keyed his shoulder mic, and tried to think of what to say to dispatch.

“Higgins to Dispatch, come back!” He exclaimed.

“Dispatch, come back, Officer Higgins,” the dispatcher replied.

“I need – all available units – to the War Memorial on Brown Avenue!” Higgins said haltingly, still not really believing what he was seeing hovering above.

“10-4, all units to the War Memorial on Brown,” Dispatch replied, “Can you advise of the situation?”

“Negative! Just get me some help out here NOW!” Higgins replied.

“All units, All units, please respond to request for backup at the War Memorial on Brown Avenue at this time,” the dispatcher began to call over the radio.

Before long, Higgins could hear the approaching sirens as the two other Pleasant View PD officers on duty that night, as well as a Sheriff’s Deputy and Kentucky State Police officer who were also close by were all converging on the campus. Students who were up late soon started coming out of the one frat house that was the only residential facility on this part of the campus, and screams and confused conversation filled the night air as about two dozen college kids joined Officer Higgins at gazing up at the winged figure. Several were snapping pics or taking video on their smartphones, and others were just looking on in complete disbelief.

Just before the first of the other patrol cars rounded the curve toward the War Memorial, the winged thing shot straight up from the eternal flame, its huge, eerie red eyes tracing in the night sky as it banked, and quickly disappeared off to the east.

Meanwhile, having achieved full cruising altitude now, Indrid’s strange vehicle passed high over the War Memorial at around the same time, undetected, as it would have looked like no more than a small dark spot blotting out a few stars to those on the ground who were currently being mesmerized by the Mothman. “This should bring us just the sort of attention we need for the next phase of our mission,” Indrid silently told his companion, approvingly.

The screen between them gave them a perfectly clear view of the scene far below, as the Mothman flew quickly out of sight and the cop cars converged on the place where the college kids and Officer Higgins were gathered at the base of the War Memorial. People thought 1967 was so long ago, Indrid thought with satisfaction.

But, some things were timeless indeed. Soon the kerosene lamp globe-shaped vehicle was flying where no aircraft would normally dare tread, right into the restricted airspace high above the Thoroughbred Army Depot. But, none of the several ground-to-air missiles the Depot denied having concealed under innocuous-looking strips of grass would be fired toward Indrid and his companion that evening. As usual, these sorts of things were of even less concern to Indrid Cold than seeing Ronnie’s post-jack off spectacle had been earlier in the evening.

By noon the next day, the Pleasant View Police Department was a total zoo, all six guest rooms of the Thomason House Bed and Breakfast were occupied, as were all 20 rooms at the college’s elegant Pleasant View Tavern Hotel. The curious and the media had descended in a rapid pace that was not possible back in the days of Mary Hyre’s print-and-ink newspaper reporting which had first broke the eerily similar story over in West Virginia back in 1967. But, in today’s instantaneous culture of social networking and round-the-clock news via smartphones, word had spread in only a few hours.

The Mothman was back, and this time he was in Pleasant View, Kentucky. Nobody even realized that Mary Jane Turner, daughter of Max Turner, editor of the Pleasant View Bugle had been busily getting fucked by her hung frat-boy boyfriend Jake Hampton at the frat house next to the War Memorial the night before. They had finished up and gotten dressed just in time to run outside with everyone else and witness the most recent sighting of a creature previously resigned to long ago legend, and what was thought to be the largest group sighting ever of the Mothman.

Oddly enough, none of the pictures and video captured by the students or Officer Higgins would provide the kind of solid evidence of the Mothman’s existence that they otherwise could have. When everyone tried to view the images they had taken, whether iPhone or Android, the result was the same: the files were completely corrupted and un-viewable, even with sophisticated police software.

This greatly aggravated Max, who had been the first to break the story to the AP and the worldwide social media sphere, even without the video that Mary Jane had taken, which would have been worth God-only-knows-what if only it had been viewable after the fact. Max didn’t even connect the dots about why his daughter would have been at a frat house at 2:00 am, since he was so excited about the scoop of a lifetime.

Jack had just completed a news conference on live TV, which was covered by all four Rosemont TV stations, and from which brief clips would ultimately be shown on CNN, Headline News, MSNBC, Fox News, and all three of the major networks’ evening newscasts. (Nancy Grace was showing old footage of the Silver Bridge collapse and screechingly drawling on about whether or not this was proof that the Mothman had indeed been a real phenomenon way back then – and still was today. Over on Fox, the talking heads were all convinced that this was just all part of Obama’s latest evil drone plot.)

To his credit, Jack came across as thoroughly calm, sane, and reasonable. He explained that the Pleasant View PD was cooperating with all other law enforcement agencies in investigating both the so-called Mothman group sighting and the UFO sighting of the night before. He noted that Officer Higgins was a well-respected veteran officer, and that his account lent complete validity to what all of the college students had also reported seeing the night before above the War Memorial. He also noted that officials at the nearby Thoroughbred Army Depot said that they had detected no unusual or unauthorized air traffic the night before, and neither had the nearest civilian air traffic radar at the Bluegrass Airport in Rosemont.

Miz Vivian was helping Brad handle the influx of visitors to the inn and store. At noon, Jack managed to escape the circus at the station out the back door and into his pickup, heading back to the inn for lunch. A TMZ reporter who had just checked in immediately descended on him, but was sternly informed by Miz Vivian that unless he wanted to find another place for his skinny little Yankee ass to sleep that night, he would have to respect the inn’s policy of strictly no media inquiries being conducted on the premises. Jack backed her up on this, but also told the reporter he should instead plan to be at the next news conference at the station later that afternoon.

Brad, Jack, and Miz Vivian went into the formal dining room, and closed and locked the pocket doors to the main hall behind them. Soon Irene and Rayann joined them, coming in from the door that led to the kitchen.

“What the hell are we going to do about this whole fucking mess?” Jack asked in exasperation, as he was eating the tuna salad sandwich Irene had just brought him.

“Oh, honey, this’ll all blow over soon,” Miz Vivian said in her typical no-nonsense fashion. “You know the news media, give it 24 hours and they’ll get bored with this whole Mothman mess and move on to the next Kardashian scandal.”

“I hope the hell so,” Jack said. “This is NOT how I imagined my first week as chief going, that’s for damn sure. And you should have heard that bunch at the Army Depot when I called to see if their radar had picked up anything last night. Not only was their denial phony-sounding as hell, they were very cold – and blunt - in their advice to just let the whole matter blow over ASAP and to not investigate any of it much further.”

Brad hugged Jack’s broad shoulders, noting how fucking gorgeous his man was in uniform. “Miz Vivian is right, honey, this mess will blow over,” Brad said. “We may never know what anybody has really seen for sure, but hell, if nothing else it may be a boon for tourism. That would actually help us with the inn and the store, not to mention how it would help all the other small businesses in town. You know Point Pleasant has done well through the years by capitalizing on the Mothman tourist business, they even have a Mothman Museum and a Mothman Festival every September.”

“Well, I guess that is true,” Rayann agreed. “But, God, I don’t think I’ll ever forget seeing that damn thing in the sky last night.” She shivered. “I have just googled about it on my phone, and read all about that creepy-assed Indrid Cold and how he flew the same damn thing in ’67 and visited that Mr. Derenberger. I sure as hell don’t want him coming back to see me. I would have about rather seen that Mothman thing than to have seen what I did.”

“That dream like to have scared me to death,” Irene added, having told them all about her dream earlier that day. “And, Bradley, I know what you are saying about the tourists, but let’s not forget the pure hell Point Pleasant had to go through back in ’67. I’m sure they’d rather have all the lives lost on the bridge back than to have the tourist business the Mothman has generated through the years.”

Brad nodded in sober agreement, as did the others. “You’re right, of course, Irene.” The Hunsuckers had checked out early that morning and left, they were so shaken by what was going on now in Pleasant View, and by their own memories of the Mothman’s first notable appearances and the horrific Silver Bridge collapse back when they were high school seniors in Point Pleasant.

Sure enough, by Saturday all of the media had left Point Pleasant, and it seemed that the Mothman, and who or whatever had been responsible for the UFO that many now thought sounded just like Indrid Cold’s craft from way back when, had left as well. The girls at the drive-in had talked by now, and this had just lent even more credence to the idea that the infamous entity known as Indrid Cold had also been in town, but after a few days with no more sightings of him, his Caddy, or his flying machine, everyone assumed he was gone, too.

Ronnie the “UPS guy” was still in town, though. His superiors had been highly pissed at him for sleeping through the biggest events yet in this case, but he assured them that this had just been a bit of grandstanding by Cold and company, and that when it counted, he would still be there.

Jack, Brad, and their friends were all just glad the whole weird mess was seemingly over, and things had gotten back to normal. Brad and Jack were particularly glad that they were going to be able to keep their much-anticipated first “play date” with Justin and Eric that evening.

By 8:00 that Saturday night, the guys had enjoyed a cookout down by the lakeshore, and were all glad that the temperatures had returned to normal springtime warmth. They cleaned up from the cookout, and before long had walked back up the hill together and were now sitting around on the big leather sectional in Justin and Eric’s spacious basement den. Everyone had already kicked off their shoes and socks or sandals and gotten at least that bit of comfortable. It occurred to both Eric and Justin that this very room was where they had first played with Bubba and James as well, a few years before.

“So,” Justin said to break the nervous silence which had descended since they all had come in and sat down. “I am glad we are going to try this, guys. I admit I’m as nervous as the rest of you look, but I think we all four want this – I know we do.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Brad agreed, as Jack and Eric also chimed in their agreement.

“It is new to us,” Jack said. “But we are definitely up for it though. Just maybe not too much this first time, 'til we see how we all click, you know?”

“Of course,” Eric replied. “Let’s just have a good time with each other tonight and do what we are all comfortable with and get off. Hopefully we will have plenty of other times to do the rest.”

“We have talked a lot about this since we set up this date, guys,” Brad said then. “Jack and I want you guys to know that we already obviously care a lot about you both as friends – and we think this is just going to make that even better – and be a hell of a lot of fun, too.”

“We feel the same way, buddy,” Justin said with a grin.

For another awkward moment they all got quiet again. Then, without any further talking, Justin leaned over to Eric, who was sitting next to him, and started kissing him passionately. Eric responded, and they kissed deeply, their hands starting to explore each other’s chests through their t-shirts.

Brad and Jack soon followed suit. Before long the guys had all gotten each other out of their shirts. Breaking his and Eric's kiss, Justin got up and came over and sat down right against Jack, with Eric following him and sitting down on the other end, very close to Brad. Soon each of the guys was rubbing the crotch of the guy next to him through their shorts. Justin and Jack were soon kissing each other hotly, as Brad and Eric began to do the same.

“Fuck it!” Justin said after a few very intense minutes of this making out, breathing hard and breaking a deep kiss he had been sharing with Jack. He stood up, and dropped his shorts to the floor, revealing his rock hard seven-inch cock, as he had been going commando. The other guys all quickly followed suit, shorts and underwear scattering across the floor in a blur. Now they were all four buck naked and rock hard together there in Justin and Eric’s den.

Justin immediately just straddled Jack on the leather sectional, so that his legs were wrapped around behind Jack and their cocks and balls were mashed against each other. He went in for a kiss and their tongues thrashed passionately. Jack’s big hand grabbed both of their cocks and began stroking them against one another as they both groaned into their kisses.

Meanwhile, Eric just dropped to his knees and immediately began sucking Brad’s fat dick. “Oh, fuck yeah, Eric, suck that cock!” Brad groaned, as he was loving watching Jack and Justin kissing and grinding their cocks and balls together right next to him.

Soon Justin had followed Eric's lead and had dropped to the floor in front of the couch between Jack's legs and was sucking Jack’s dick with gusto. He came up off it long enough to say lustily, “Fuck yeah, that fat dick tastes so good buddy!”

“Ugh! Fuckin’ suck me, Just’!” Jack grunted in reply.

Before long they had traded off, with Brad sucking Justin’s cock and Eric going to town on Jack’s big throbbing member. Eric reached over and began stroking Brad's leaking dick and Brad returned the favor as they each sucked the other’s husband.

“Uhh! FUCK!!!” Jack was soon groaning. "Fucking suck that fuckin' cock, Eric!!!" He bucked his hips now to fuck his best friend's husband's face eagerly.

Then, Eric’s hot cum began to splatter all over Brad’s furiously working hand, and up onto Jack's leg as Eric sucked him. This caused Jack to unleash a torrent of hot cum down Eric’s throat. Soon Brad’s hot load was shooting and he was swallowing Justin’s. In a few moments they were all lying against one another panting and sweaty and naked and sated there on the sectional.

Everyone kissed everyone else some more, and both couples sensed a tenderness with the other that would not have been possible if just randomly hooking up with any other guys. Soon towels and wash cloths were retrieved for cleanup, and everyone got dressed and they all soon agreed how hot what had just happened had been. There was also an unspoken agreement that this was enough for the first time, although everyone was clearly looking forward to doing much more together soon.

While this was going on, Billy Jack Albertson was driving an Uncle Joe’s Mountain Spring Water delivery box truck back to the plant in Smithville from Pleasant View. Billy Jack worked as a delivery driver for Brad, Jack, and Miz Vivian’s bottled water company and his husband Barney ran the local flower shop and wedding planning business in Pleasant View. He had bought the shop when it was about to go under, and returned to being a full time florist in addition to a wedding planner and decorator.

Normally they were both off work on Saturdays, but on this day Billy Jack had volunteered to deliver several cases of water to a larger semi-truck at a church in Pleasant View, which was gathering and then transporting donated goods to the victims of a recent tornado out in Kansas. Having dropped the water at the church, Billy Jack had taken the delivery truck back to the plant in Smithville, then hopped back into his own Jeep Wrangler for the drive back to Pleasant View. By this time it was just beginning to get dark on that Saturday evening. Billy Jack rounded a long bend along the Shawnee River, and then started up a hill.

As he reached the top of the hill, from just above the dense forest to the right soon appeared the same odd craft Rayann had witnessed a few nights before. It descended right in front of Billy Jack, who instinctively braked and pulled the Jeep to a stop on the paved shoulder of the otherwise-deserted highway. As the door in the middle side of the sideways lamp-globe shaped object opened, revealing a lighted interior behind it, Billy Jack looked on in disbelief as the tall, thin figure of Indrid Cold stepped down from the vehicle as it hovered just above the ground, and started to walk towards the Jeep.