Like Lightning From Heaven: Dazzle Shelton - Alien Invasion Series, #9

By Don Vodka

A sweet lesbian coming-of-age love story, between two teenagers, set against a sci fi invasion background.
Alien warships appear in the sky over Nevada, after traveling through time and space from the far corners of the Galaxy. Hot on their tail are US Air Force Raptors, in relentless pursuit--from the future. Dubbed 'T-backs' by the Raptor pilots, and flown by Quads, the alien craft are more than a match for Earth's defenses. But Vampire Squadron is out to change that.
The town of Sunrise, Nevada is the target of the vicious Quads. For it is the home of Dazzle Shelton, the meta-human who has embedded in her DNA the genetic code that the aliens desperately need... the key to the survival of their race.
The Raptor pilots are young, but have been trained by the best. When it comes to dog-fights with alien T-backs, teenagers Misty and Rikkie know no fear. When it comes to their budding love for each other, however, the two girls are in uncharted territory.
Falling in love, especially first love, should be a beautiful experience, to be enjoyed over long walks and romantic sunsets. Not stained and overshadowed by a ferocious alien menace, bent on enslaving the human race. But heroes don't always have choices.
It has been said that love conquers all. That will be put to the test.

 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Don Vodka
• Release date: Mar 31, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215703168

Don Vodka

Donnalee Vodka began her life in a small town in southern Nevada. She has always been fascinated with Science Fiction, especially movies. Some of her favorites are Independence Day, 12 Monkeys, Black Panther, and of course the Back to the Future trilogy. When she couldn't find an exciting time travel/sci fi movie to watch, she decided to write her own story. So, in 2021, while still in high school, she sat down and began tapping away at the keyboard, writing novels that read like movies. Donnalee has already released ten books in her Dazzle Shelton – Alien Invasion Series, published by Books Under The Stairs. In her own words, ‘if you like Buffy, The Vampire Slayer, and wonder what a mashup between Clueless and War of the Worlds would be like… you’re as whack as I am and I think you’ll like my series. Read the books now, ahead of the streaming series. Periodt.’ Donnalee, or Don as she is known to her friends, writes from the heart. Over a strong margarita. (edit - only when I’m in Canada where I’m legal… DV) If she needs inspiration she need look no further than out the back window of her twenty-foot house trailer. For barely 25 miles away lies Groom Lake, aka Area 51. After a few shots of Tequila , the aliens starting buzzing about overhead. Always. Don wants everyone to know she is NOT Russian, and supports the Ukraine 100%. In fact, she can trace her roots to the city of Odessa, where her great-great-grandparents lived more than a hundred years ago. She has a webpage, donvodka.com, and is hard at work on the next book in the series. This new edition stars Misty and Rikkie, and is set in the year 2068. Don states that this time the aliens are ruthless. But Misty, the metahuman with claws and fangs--and a quick temper--is more than ready. Look for the book to drop in June or perhaps sooner. Depending on the Tequila. And a reminder to everyone… keep watching the skies! Fox Mulder was onto something—and it wasn’t that stuff you can smoke.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Vampire Squadron

AREA 51 - THE YEAR 2068

No fucking way!

Misty dropped her tray back onto the stack and hurried out of the mess hall, still holding her cell phone to her ear. With her free hand, she zipped up her flight suit.

Red lights throughout the crew quarters and hallways flashed in conjunction with a three-note rising tone that repeated several times over the speakers. The voice of the Nevada Sector Dispatch Officer interrupted the tones.

‘Vampire Squadron to the flight deck.

Repeat. Vampire Squadron to the flight deck.’

Fuck! Why is it always just before breakfast?

Misty, are you getting scrambled? asked Jason over the phone.

No, as a matter of fact, I was gonna go with over easy this morning, and a bagel. But this damn alert went off! said Misty.

I meant scrambled, like get the fighters into the air, he said. The Raptors.

Oh, yeah... you’re right, she said. Time to become Fly and kill aliens wearing my cape.

I think Fly is a cute name, he said.

You do? she asked.

Yeah, especially for a... a young, female, teenage opposite sex, woman-type person, said Jason.

Girl is okay, she said. I’m a lesbian but I’m still a girl.

I know. A cute one. And if you were into non-girls, I would kill to be your Venus Flytrap.

You’re breaking up, said Misty. Did you say Venus or penis?

No! he insisted. I definitely said Venus. If Devil hears you talking like that, he’ll make today Hell for you.

Wow. You never get tired of those Devil and Hell jokes, do you? she asked. And did you just refer to yourself as a non-girl?

Sorry, he said. I’m still struggling with all the pronouns. Grammar isn’t my strong suit. I’m currently trying to figure out how to use my dangling particle.

Okay, it’s gonna take more than a couple shots of Tequila to wash that disturbing image out of my brain, she said as she hurried down the hall.

Do you really wear a cape? he asked.

No. That was a dangling particle.

Oh, said Jason. But about what I asked you yesterday. Going to the movies on Saturday night. Almost the entire graduating class is going. I’m on the social committee and I need a head count so I can get seats together.

I’m not sure. Misty passed through the blast doors and made her way toward the flight deck. Everyone will have a date, and I’ll be alone.

Find someone, said Jason.

I have found someone, said Misty. At least, in my mind.

Ask her, he said. Otherwise, she’ll be alone, too.

I’ll think about it. I gotta go, she said. Catch you later.

The flight vectors came over the speaker as she ended the call.

Level 2 incursion. Repeat. Level 2 incursion. Sector two niner one.

Over the town of Rachel again, said Misty, as she caught up to Peyton and Rikkie, the other two girls in the Vampire Squadron. They all hurried over to the flight pad.

Seems to be their favorite spot, said Peyton as she shook her long, red hair back and lowered the zipper on her flight suit a few inches. How do I look?

Gucci! said Rikkie.

Straight fire! said Misty. Carson is one lucky man.

He could be, if he can roll a hard six. The Peyton Casino is open and there’s no limit. Not for him.

Misty’s stomach grumbled loudly. Both girls looked at her. Holy carp! My baby’s trying to talk! she said.

Peyton shook her head. Some crotch goblins never mature.

I saw you smiling, said Misty. You think I’m adorkable... admit it.

Yeah, she smiled. Cute, too. Like a desert bunny.

Misty has always been cute, said Rikkie.

I have?

Yeah... I mean, we’ve been best friends since forever, and I always thought—

Her stomach grumbled again. I’m starving, she said. Seriously.

We’ll be back in time for a late brekkie, said Rikkie. But in the meantime, have this. She handed Misty half of her bagel. I know cream cheese isn’t your favorite, but—

Thanks. Misty grabbed it and forced it all into her mouth. It was gone in a second. Fuel is fuel. I owe you.

Peyton looked around for the fourth pilot in their squadron. Where’s Mountie?

He was right behind me, said Rikkie. The crew chief pulled him aside.

Problems with his Raptor? asked Misty.

Rikkie shrugged. I’m not sure.

Mountie, Canada’s contribution to the war effort, was the only male fighter pilot in Vampire Squadron. He ran over to the squad and gave them the news.

My torpedo launcher. She work not much, he said in his heavy French-Canadian accent. Gun only.

Are you sorry? asked Misty.

What?

Nothing, just a Canadian thing, said Misty.

It doesn’t count if you coax him, said Rikkie. Play fair.

Two men hurried out of the dispatch office and caught up to them. The four Raptor pilots stood shoulder to shoulder on the yellow line that separated the safe zone from the active area.

I’ll be brief, said Air Force Captain Carson Remington, the twenty-two-year-old leader of Vampire Squadron. And I want to have a look at you before we take off. In case one of you doesn’t come back.

We do this every time, Carson, sighed Misty. And we’ve never lost a pilot yet. Your pep talk sucks.

He took a step toward his junior pilot, the toes of their boots almost touching. Carson clenched his jaw and squinted his eyes, staring down at the girl.

We’re active, so it’s supposed to be call signs, Fly, he said. You know the rules. Do you want to try that again, following protocol?

No. She spoke through her teeth. Devil is the perfect call sign for you. It should be on your birth certificate.

I’ll ignore that, he said. An obvious lie.

His six-foot-two frame towered over the blonde girl by six inches. But she glared at him like they were eye to eye, even though she had her head tipped way back, basically looking up at his chin. He moved on to the next pilot, who matched Misty in size.

Nibs here, ready to throwdown, sir. She was a dark-haired seventeen-year-old cutie who chose her call sign because it was her favorite sweet treat. Rikkie was always with Misty, whether they were flying Raptors or showing up late for Algebra class at Sunrise High School. She was the second youngest on the team, three months older than Misty.

Nice and polite, Nibs, said Carson. That’s how it should be done, Fly.

Next up was the Canadian, Mountie. Since no one could pronounce his name to his satisfaction, he went by his call sign. Who would have thought that ‘Jacques’ was so difficult to say correctly? But apparently, it was.

Finally, said Carson. A man I can look in the eye. Without getting a kink in my neck.

That’s sexist, mumbled Misty. And height discrimination, too.

Sexist?

You called him a man.

He is a man.

Sexist again, said Misty. She was staring straight ahead, standing at attention. Always prepared and waiting, more than capable of notching up the rhetoric, whether it was logical or not.

Strike two, Fly. Keep it up and you’ll be cleaning toilets instead of going to the Officer’s Ball at the end of the month.

What? said Misty. She turned to face Carson, completely caught off guard. The Ball! But I’m not an officer! How can I even go?

Someone pulled some strings, said Carson. Seems the higher-ups think you have potential.

Thank you, God! she said.

Not that high, said Carson. Just the Nevada Sector C.O. Maybe one of your friends can lend you girl clothes.

Booyah! she said. She stole a glance at Rikkie, and they exchanged little smiles.

Carson turned his attention back to Mountie. What’s the problem with your Raptor, Mountie?

The fusé on my Rapture, he said. Work much, she’s not.

Can somebody translate? asked Carson.

His rocket is firing blanks, said Rikkie. Happens to a lot of older guys.

Merci, Nib, said Mountie.

It’s Nibs, she said. Plural.

Sorry, said the French-Canadian.

Damn! said Rikkie, as she reluctantly pulled a twenty-dollar bill from her pocket.

Misty reached out and snatched the money from Rikkie. Merci, Nib, she said in a fake French accent. Sorry.

Focus, kiddies, said Carson. He tapped Mountie on the chest. Stay close to the command ship. Mountie nodded.

The last pilot was Peyton, call sign Viper. Like the other two girls, the gorgeous woman stood half a foot shorter than her squadron leader. But what she lacked in height she more than made up for in piloting skills. Only twenty-one, she already had more confirmed kills than any other pilot in the Air Force.

Carson took a tentative step toward the young woman. All eyes shifted toward the two, waiting for the Viper to strike.

Peyton reached out and adjusted the collar on Carson’s flight suit, then brushed a speck of lint off his breast pocket.

Carson swallowed deeply, then cleared his throat. That wasn’t necessary, Miss Peyton, he said. But... thank you.

Viper, she said, batting her eyelashes. We’re active, right? You and me?

Yes, you’re correct, said Carson. The squad is active, and it’s call signs only. I apologize for that.

He stood facing her for a few seconds. Unblinking.

You were going to say something? asked Peyton.

He raised his eyebrows and blinked. Yes, I was, Viper. I want to make sure of your status. Are you ready to engage? To go one-on-one, giving it all you got?

Engaged? Damn straight! I thought you’d never ask. I’ve been ready for months. Years even. Text me.

I don’t understand, said Carson. He looked around for help. But none was forthcoming.

Of course you don’t. You’re a man, she said. But I can straighten you out, so to speak.

Cock-ward, mumbled Misty.

The banter was interrupted by the Flight Dispatcher’s announcement.

‘Pilots, stand by to board Raptors.’

Oh, said Peyton. Were you talking about fighting the aliens? Because I thought you meant us—

Nope, said Carson. Honest mistake. No need to explain.

He turned to his co-pilot, Theo, the oldest member of the squad.

You still don’t have a call sign, Theo, said Carson.

I thought about using Angel, but it might conflict with your call sign, he said.

Theo is fine, said Carson.

Carson looked at the sheet of paper he’d picked up in the Dispatch Office.

Comp-scan isn’t pinging on any actual alien craft yet, he said. So far, only the usual anomaly in space, prior to a vortex opening.

Should be a routine splattering of tangos, said Misty.

Don’t underestimate them, said Carson. And keep your emotions in check, Fly.

I just want to kill aliens, said Misty. Is that a bad thing?

He tossed her a package of beef jerky. You must be hungry, Fly, he said. This’ll help.

Peyton stepped closer to Carson. Have you got something for me, too? she asked.

Something... like what do you mean, Viper? asked Carson, as he glanced nervously from girl to girl.

Oh, you know. A nibble of something tasty. Meaty and satisfying.

I got jerky for each of you, he said. He pulled the packages from his backpack and handed them out.

How about sausage? asked Peyton. Girls love sausage. A hot rod, if you have one.

Peyton’s eyes slowly worked their way down Carson’s frame, as a slight smile formed on her lips. He shifted from one foot to the other, and loosened his collar.

Okay, that was out of line, said Peyton. Let me just bite the bullet on that one and... pretend I didn’t go there.

Carson swallowed hard and turned a shade darker. Yes, please.

Later, whispered Peyton, as she stepped back to the yellow line.

Third-urinal awkward, said Misty under her breath.

Carson snapped back to reality and walked over to the teenager. He didn’t know it yet, but he was going from the frying pan to the fire. 

How would you know about urinals? asked Carson. You’re more or less a girl, aren’t you?

More. A lot more, actually, she said. But I’ve been to tons of hockey games in Vegas. And if you think I stood in line behind fifty women waiting to use the toilet when there’s no lineup at all to the men’s can... you are sadly mistaken.

So, what... you went into the men’s washroom?

Oh, yeah, said Misty. And I peed in a urinal. Which is not easy to do without a penis—as I’m sure you know from experience.

‘Raptors ready to board.

Repeat. Raptors ready.’

The muscles in his jaw tensed, and he inhaled deeply through his nose. He turned away from Misty, but did a double-take. She was staring straight ahead, unblinking. Like the stone-cold killer she was. Especially when aliens were around.

Okay, we’re live, he said as he turned away, although he watched Viper from the corner of his eye. Remember, call signs only. Mount up!

The canopies of the four small fighters raised. Misty, Rikkie, and Mountie raced over and climbed into the cockpits of their S-65 Raptor-class fighters. Peyton lingered a second or two longer, slowly backing up from Carson while keeping eye contact. She blew him a kiss, then turned and sprinted to her Raptor.

Theo tapped him on the shoulder. Get your head in the game. Are you ready to do this?

Always, said Carson.

The two men boarded through the side door and headed up to the front of the M-62 Mest Class command ship. The M-62 was a unique design, as it had two separate cockpits that were occupied by two pilots, sharing the tasks of flying and fighting. One would plot firing formulas and vectors for incoming attackers, while the other would fly and fire weapons. Both cockpits were identical, and the pilot could switch off with the co-pilot if needed. Or if one cockpit was blasted by an alien missile.

Before they split up and headed to their respective cockpits the two men fist-bumped. Carson strapped himself in, then looked out his right-side window to see Theo, ten feet away, giving him a thumbs up.

Vampire Squad, said Carson. Are we all lit and showing solid green lights, kiddies?

Fly ready to go.

Mountie ready.

Nibs ready, too.

Viper ready to follow you to Hell and back, Devil.

He rolled his eyes as he tore open his package of jerky and bit off a piece. Follow me in modified V formation. Mountie on my starboard. Nibs, port. Misty, high point. Viper, watch my sex.

Misty buzzed in. Ha-ha. I’m weak! I think I blew my funny fuse! Did you say—

"Six! I meant watch my six!"

Carson looked toward Theo and mouthed the word ‘help’. Theo just shook his head and turned away.

Computer, erase thirty seconds of audio, said Carson.

Too late, laughed Misty. I backed it up.

Mom won’t think that’s funny, Misty.

Dad will.

Raptors cleared. Repeat. Raptors cleared.

They all heard Carson heave an enormous sigh of relief. He came back to the real world of dog-fighting alien craft.

Light ‘em up. Burners, he said. Stay frosty.

Rockets ignited, the ships lifted, and afterburners shot them forward and out the doors of the Space Fleet Mountain Base in Area 51.

Chapter 2

The Extraterrestrial Highway

SOUTH OF RACHEL, NEVADA - the year 2039

The Mojave Desert in southwest Nevada is a starkly beautiful place. Desolate, scorching, and creepy are other ways to describe it. Joshua trees and building-sized boulders dot the landscape. Cattle roam free and tumbleweeds bounce across the highway. Definitely eerie and foreboding. And that’s during the daytime. At night? You don’t even want to know.

So, why are we out here? asked Kayla.

Something I’m feeling, said Dazzle. And I want to share it with you. In this beautiful valley, of all places.

Something to share with me?

Yeah, because you and I seem to have the same idea about things. We’ve been through a lot recently, and I know we’re kind of on the same wavelength. At least I hope we are.

A feeling you have? asked Kayla.

Dazzle nodded her head as they walked through the sand. Yeah. It started last night. When I get a feeling like this, it’s hard to ignore. And I want to share it with you, Kayla. I can’t keep it inside. I think you’ll understand when I explain it all.

Kayla stopped in her tracks and waited for the teenage girl to face her. She took a breath and composed her thoughts.

Dazzle, I have—

I know you’re feeling it, too.

Really? said Kayla. You know?

Yup.

Well, maybe I have thought about it, said Kayla. I’m only human, right?

Right. I knew you felt it, said Dazzle.

How do you know what I’m feeling? I’m pretty much a ‘keep things close to the vest’ kind of woman.

Obviously you can’t remember what happened when we went back to 1962, along Route 66, said Dazzle. But we became close, and I got to know you fairly well. I guess you got to know me too. You didn’t keep things close to the vest, particularly when we hit the pool in our bikinis.

Oh no, said Kayla.

Hey, you were nice. Professional when needed, but lots of fun as well.

Kayla took a couple of deep breaths as she looked everywhere but at the girl. Dazzle waited, and eventually Kayla spoke.

I like you, Dazzle, she said. I really do. You’re sweet, and friendly, and very pretty. And, of course, blonde hair and blue eyes are a huge plus for me. But I’m twenty-six, and you’re still in high school.

Technically I’m not. I graduated in June.

I think I know where you’re going with this, said Kayla, and it may just be puppy love you’re feeling.

What are you saying?

I thought you knew me, said Kayla. I like guys.

Dazzle took a step back. She seemed a little surprised. Then a slight smile appeared on her face.

Did you think I invited you out to this spot in the desert to tell you I want to be your girlfriend? asked Dazzle.

Well, you said you had feelings and of course—

Dazzle held up her palm. Hold that thought, Nancy Drew. Remember I told you about 1962, when we were in Barstow, at a wedding? Old Cyrus thought you and me were card-carrying members of the taco mafia.

I remember what you told me about that event. But you know my memory of 1962 disappeared in that other timeline. I have zero recollection.

Well, I made sure everyone at the wedding thought we were a couple. Breast friends, doubles partners, said Dazzle. I did that so we could score free steaks for dinner. And more importantly, so that we could eat them in peace, without getting hit on by Barney and his sandwich boys.

Sandwich boys?

In bread, said Dazzle. Their sister and their mom are the same person.

Well, I appreciate that, but—

There are no buts. I like you, too. I feel the same way about you, that you feel about me. I think. Friends. Almost sisters.

I thought you said—

I like boys, Kayla. Especially when it comes to doing the monkey dance.

But you kissed me, said Kayla. In Howard Jensen’s office.

True, said Dazzle. Just testing the waters, you know. And you happen to be awesomely good-looking, so can you blame me? I got things straightened out now, and I’m definitely swinging from the right side of the plate, no more switch-hitting for me. Except maybe a bunt, now and then. But that’s it.

So then, this inviting me out here regarding some feeling you’re having...

Yeah, it’s not about you and me making jell-o, said Dazzle. It’s about aliens.

Kayla stood emotionless for a moment. Then slowly began to snicker. She smiled, and a bit of a chuckle escaped. It grew and grew until she was full-on laughing.

Dazzle smiled, too. At first. But then got a bit more serious. Hey. I know it’s funny, but to be honest, I would be a pretty amazing catch. If I was into that.

I know you would be, said Kayla as her laughter subsided.

Really? asked Dazzle, smiling. Because of my blonde hair, right?

Yeah. And your pretty blue eyes, too. They’re kind of hard to resist.

Dazzle batted those big blue eyes at her friend, seeming to flirt. They both laughed and started walking again.

Well, I’m glad we got that sorted out, said Kayla. Now, what about this alien stuff that’s on your mind?

One question first, said Dazzle.

Okay.

Does that Trevor guy you told me about have blonde hair and blue eyes?

Oh, yeah, she said. And a tattoo of a shotgun on his—

Too much information, Kayla.

Dazzle lifted the backpack off one shoulder and dug inside. You should drink this. She passed a bottle of water to Kayla and took one for herself.

They pressed on a little farther. Dazzle seemed to be heading somewhere specific, although everywhere kind of looked the same. Sand, scrub brush, cactus, distant hills. A few minutes more and the meta-human girl stopped.

This is the place, said Dazzle.

The place for what?

There’s an energy here, she said.

Do you mean like a residual leftover, of an object that has been here? asked Kayla.

Or that will be here.

How is that possible? asked Kayla. If something hasn’t been here yet, how can you feel its energy?

Dazzle stretched her arms out, moving her hands about like she was shaping something. Kayla looked out into the desert, following along. Somewhat. But not really.

It’s like a big boat heading for the beach. Dazzle moved her left hand toward her right. Before the boat crashes onto the shore, it pushes a wave ahead of it. Energy coming before the actual event. I imagine you felt a slight puff of air on your scalp just before that bullet bounced off your skull. Am I right?

Yeah, said Kayla. So right. I’d completely forgotten about that.

Well, you were in a coma so memory loss isn’t too unusual.

Dazzle knelt and picked up a handful of sand. She held it, letting the grains slip between her fingers as she looked upward. Nothing interrupted the miles of clear, blue sky.

Can you tell me the real reason you brought me here? asked Kayla.

I told you already. I want to share this with you.

Because we’re on the same wavelength? asked Kayla.

The teenager rose, brushed the sand from her bare knees, and faced the FBI agent. Whatever is here, or will be here, you’re a part of it, to some degree. I don’t know what the connection is, but I’m sure we’ll figure it out.

Okay. So, when did you first become aware of this energy?

One sec. Dazzle drank the rest of her water, then stuffed the bottle into her backpack. She took her cell phone from her shorts and tapped the screen.

There aren’t any towers out here, said Kayla, looking around.

My phone links to my mom’s pod. The one she landed in back in 2021. But I’m not making a phone call. I detected really weird radio waves last night, and I’m hoping I can match them with something in the computer on the pod.

Last night? asked Kayla.

I run a lot, said Dazzle. Mostly at night, when it’s peaceful. It was a few minutes after one in the morning, and as I passed this spot, I became aware of the energy. Like when you walk out of the air-conditioned MGM Grand and into a wall of heat. That’s what it was like for me.

Kayla looked back to the Explorer, parked a hundred yards away. Beyond that, far in the distance, were the rotating blades of the wind turbines, barely visible. The Shelton property was a further ten miles back.

We’re at least fifteen miles from your house. Are you saying you ran all the way out here in the middle of the night?

Is that weird?

No, it’s not weird. What it is—is unbelievable. That’s a thirty-mile round trip.

Thirty-seven miles, to be precise, said Dazzle. It took me an hour, including the ten minutes that I spent here.

You can run thirty-seven miles an hour? Now, that’s weird.

Forty-four miles an hour, said Dazzle. Don’t forget that I stopped here for ten minutes.

"Let’s move