The boys heard all the stories about the industrial park. The tales drunkards and spinsters and eccentric uncles spun about it being haunted by aliens captured in the 40's. They said that Roswell wasn't where the real action had happened - it was just the diversion.
It was all a load of crap, as far as John was concern. He had outgrown fairy tales by the time he was seven. At seventeen, the only thing he believed in was a good hit of emotion-suppressing chemicals.
There were no such thing as ghosts. And there were no such thing as aliens. Period.
The boys reached the bottom of the ladder. John and Nate made their way down the dimly lit passageway. Old light bulbs left yellow plaque on everything they lit. It was an unremarkable corridor, other than the fact that it was underground, beneath an industrial park that locals liked to tell tall tales about.
There was no sight of the wizen "mad scientist" anywhere. But there was probably a door at the end of the tunnel, and he was probably already on the other side of it, doing... whatever it was he did here.
"What is this place?" Nathan asked, disoriented.
"How the fuck should I know?" John snapped, irritated. He hadn't even pieced together what had just happened a minute ago - he needed time to make sense of everything. He saw Nathan's wide fearful eyes, and felt guilty for snapping at him. "It's probably some kind of underground storage added on to a basement, or something," John said, trying to reassure the younger boy. "Just stay close to me, I don't trust that old geezer."
"He sure is fast," Nathan commented.
"All the more reason not to trust him." They stopped at the end of the hallway. There was no door. Only a dead end.
"But he saved us."
"Where the fuck did he go to?? He can't just disappear." John shook his head, trying to clear it - trying to remember what had happened above ground. "Saved us? Saved us from what?"
"You know..." Nathan said in a small voice. "That thing..."
"What thing?" John asked, looking back down the tunnel trying to figure out where geezer could have gone to.
"The Martians."
The boys jumped, turning in unison.
"Okay crazy old man, I've had enough. What the fuck is this place, and what did you do to us back at the bridge?"
"All in good time. Come in, come in." He stepped to the side, inclining his head. The boys entered a doorway that wasn't there a moment ago, and found themselves in a small, white room. The wizen old man took a remote from his pocket, clicking on a button. Music filtered into the room from somewhere. "Welcome to the real Area 51."
'Great. I'm underground with my oh-so-perfect kid brother in a little white room with a crazy man,' John thought, shaking his head. "Area 51, my ass. I need a joint."
The wall behind them slid silently closed, barring them from the hallway.
Nathan looked the small room over. Completely white. Seven feet, a perfect cube. Two florescent lights set evenly spaced in the cealing, otherwise the room was featureless and empty. Nathan managed a grin beside himself. "I thought it would be bigger."
"Here's to you, Mrs. Robinson, Jesus loves you more than you can know..."
John let out a heavy sigh. He decided this was a dream, and a lame one at that. He wondered why this couldn't be a wet dream instead, why Mr. Wizard here couldn't be a Playboy centerfold, and this annoying music replaced with some good death metal.
The music played on.