86 F-250

By Blake Burton

About the Book
When an alien crash lands on Earth with no memory of who he is or what happened to him, he takes the form of a 1986 Ford F-250 and travels to a nearby town, hoping to discover something about his past life.
Connor Sammamish is an outcast. Overshadowed by his famous racecar driver mother, he feels misunderstood and unseen, finding solace in his room alone while his mother throws extravagant parties for the millionaires in town.
On a fateful night, Connor finds himself cornered by a group of high school bullies with no hope for escape… that is, until a nearby ’86 Ford F-250 transforms into a superpowered robot, sending the bullies running away in fear. After protecting his new friend, the alien enlists Connor’s help in figuring out the truth of his origin, all while evading the mysterious forces who hunt the pair down.
About the Author
A native of Washington, Blake Burton is currently studying for his Bachelor of Arts in Film with a minor in Screenwriting. In his free time, Burton makes sculptures, paints models, and works on his car. In addition, Burton is a full Shodan in Shudokan Karate-Do.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dorrance Publishing Company
• Release date: Feb 28, 2024
• ISBN: 9798888129463

Book preview

Chapter 1

Déjà Vu

There seemed to be nothing around. Everything was still. As he looked around, all he saw was empty space. Everything was the same except the crater he was in. It seemed as though he had fallen from high above due to the depth and circumference of the crater along with the plant life that had been pushed aside.

Again, scanning the area with his eyes, he saw nothing, nothing except a weird object in the distance. He got up and walked towards it.

Getting closer, it became more defined and clearer. Something about it though seemed to give him déjà vu, something he couldn’t quite place.

Reaching out, he felt a pull, almost like an invisible force, helping him reach for the object. As he touched it, a large spark appeared. He recoiled in fright, not knowing what was going on. Looking down, he saw that the spark persisted on his hand and seemed to travel. It was then that he noticed why he felt déjà vu.

His chest looked like the front of the object; it had a reflective crisscross pattern with a blue oval and rectangular objects that lit up as the spark passed by them. His calves had taller versions of these rectangular objects that lit up as well. Next to them and wrapping around the side of his leg was a silver and red object that spelled, Ford. Looking around some more, he also noticed rubbery circle things in his heels, and similarly shaped discs in his forearms surrounded by nearly perfectly shaped metal, almost as if it was meant to accommodate the objects.

By now, the spark had passed his arms, where another set of weird rubbery circle things resided, and deep into his chest. With a sudden whoosh, his chest flew open to reveal a bright light in the center. It blazed with life as if it could power a thousand suns. It was beautiful.

Pushing his chest back closed, he decided he needed to get out of the area so he could better contemplate and investigate what happened. He needed to remember who he was if he was to get home (assuming he had one).

Right on cue, his vision lowered, it widened, and the clunking of metal could be heard. Everything seemed to change in his perspective. It was almost as if he could see 360 degrees around him. He had just turned into a brown, slightly lifted, 1986 Ford F-250 XLT Lariat 4x4 SuperCab, with an 8-foot bed and a canopy.

Bewildered by what had just happened, he wanted to leave as soon as possible. Again, right on cue, something inside him rumbled and shook the whole truck. He felt a little tug, as if a stick was moving across his body, only on the inside, and he started to move.

Something rustled in a bush nearby. Curious as to what it was, he suddenly stopped moving and took the opportunity to see the source of the noise. Suddenly, a small, grey, furry animal with a black mask jumped out from the bush, screeched, and quickly darted away.

Not knowing what it was, he wanted to start moving again. Magically, he did just that. But it wasn’t fast enough for him. He wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. Almost as if someone was watching him, granting wishes, he moved forward even faster. Faster and faster until he came to a sign. Stop, it read. Not knowing where to go next, he decided to go left, somehow turning on lights and causing a clicking sound in the process, and followed the green signs towards what they claimed was a town.

Chapter 2

Weird Fleshy Things

85!

A beer bottle slammed down on a table as someone yelled out, BINGO!!!

That’s another win for Bill today. A distant rumble presented itself and an ’86 F-250 could be seen rolling past the bingo house. This was not where he wanted to be, in a town, but with all the memory he had left, of which there was none, he knew not to panic or he would draw attention to himself.

He decided to pull off into an alley way between a restaurant and a theater. He was frightened. It was at this moment that fear started to settle in. He didn’t know where was, he didn’t know if he had a home to go to, and most of all, he didn’t even know what his own name was.

Turning off whatever was rumbling inside of him, he sat in the alleyway, waiting, hoping that someone, or something, would find him sooner rather than later, explain everything to him, and bring him home.

—————

Red, red everywhere. The wall was red, the floor was red, and the people were red. The scent of blood was strong, overpowering every other smell in the room.

RING! A red digital clock changed from 2:54 p.m. to 2:55 p.m. The darkness of the room ceased as bright lights turned on and the sound of metal clanking, doors opening, and talking began as people left the room. On the screen at the front of the room was a movie. Someone was just killed, and the shot now shows the aftermath.

As Connor Sammamish (pronounced sah-mam-ish) got up from his desk, he was pushed from behind by a big hulking thing. It smelled of turf, animal skin everywhere, draped over his body like a trophy.

With a mouth that looked like a rhino had a bad toothache, it smiled, said, You know what happens later. Out back, 3:15, don’t be late, and walked out the door.

Another one walked by and said, Later, chump.

A tall one was in the front of the room and trying to speak to everyone as they walked out the door, AND DON’T FORGET! QUIZ TOMORROW!

As Connor looked on, he walked out thinking, Why does he even try anymore? "Sigh. Oh, hey Connor."

Cringe, Damn it, he’s spotted me. Of all times to notice me, why now?

Turning around seemed to make time slow down. Sweat dripped off his forehead and Connor braced for whatever came next.

Yes, sir?

Today, the boys want to fight you again, don’t they?

Yes, sir.

And you know what I told you.

Yes, sir.

Pause.

You won’t listen again, will you?

Most likely.

"Sigh. You know you don’t have to hold all your emotions in, right?"

Yes, sir.

You know you don’t have to refer to me as sir all the time, right?

Yes Mr. Jock.

You know the only reason I don’t discourage you from calling me that either, is because of what I know is going through your head, right?

Yes, Mr. El.

Very well then. Just stay strong and go Rockets!

Yes, sir. Go team.

Turning back around and exiting the room, Seriously, why does Mr. Football even try anymore? He knows I don’t care about our team, especially with those Hulks that try to mess me up every other week.

Connor was the type that would get bullied constantly. This, coupled with his other experiences in life so far, meant he had hardened within. Emotions didn’t affect him; everything on the inside was blocked behind a dam, a dam as a wide as a thousand suns.

Exiting the school doors, he expected the worst. His fears had begun to realize. Sigh. On the side of his Ford Fiesta ST were the words Pussy Cat, spray painted on the side in pink.

Connor unlocked his car, threw his backpack in the backseat, and drove off to a familiar alleyway, not knowing that he had just become part of something more. Something so large, and so vast, it would involve trillions of life forms, and span thousands of planets.

Chapter 3

I Can Do This All Day

A mountain side. So peaceful and quiet, not even the bear let out its mighty roar for it saw the beauty. The animals stirred as the sun rose.

Vrooooom, vrooooom, the distant sound of an engine at full throttle could be heard.

All the rabbits ran in fear while the Bambi curiously waited to see what caused the disturbance.

The ground rumbled, the pebbles of the dirt road began to shake, and the noise grew louder.

Vroooom, VROOOOOM, the maker of the noise was spotted by the deer and they ran away in fear.

There was a partially deflated basketball lying on the road. As the noise got even louder, VROOOOOM, VROOOOOOM, the ball moved as if an earthquake had just begun. WHAM!, the ball got smacked from view into infinity and beyond, and all that was seen was a black tire and a cloud of dust.

The machine had what appeared to be a dirty blue oval on the front. Its body was white and black with all sorts of companies’ logos on it along with multiple names, the most prominent of which read Catelyn ‘Rally’ Sammamish.

The front wheels turned, and the car slid around a corner like nobody’s business. The deflated basketball presented itself again, falling to the ground like a piece of paper, obliterated beyond recognition, looking like a pulp from a plant.

Inside the vehicle, a being that appeared to be similar to the weird fleshy things, moved their arms wildly in a circular motion, gripping a wheel with death-like intensity. They seemed confident about themselves, their movements relaxed and calculated, their posture straight.

A radio could be heard from within the helmet on their head, Two seconds, just carve out two more seconds.

The being’s grip intensified further, the brakes resting longer, and the wheels turning faster.

Something could be seen up ahead in the distance. It appeared to be a moving white speck, frantic like a mob. As the vehicle got closer, the speck came into focus. It was not a moving white speck, rather it was a series of tents with weird fleshy things holding the power of time in their hands. Something above one of the tents flashed red and changed its appearance every millisecond.

ZOOM, the vehicle flew past and left behind a cloud of dust as it came to a halt. A voice could be heard announcing to the world, Catelyn Sammamish, in the Ford Fiesta, has set a time of…. Everyone there held their breath, trying not to disturb what they expected to be a record setting moment.

Catelyn herself sat in her car, only taking her gloves off for fear that any loud noise might make it hard for her to hear the announcement.

Three minutes…, the world watched with bated breath, fifty…, the electricity was building, the air becoming stale, five seconds…. The previous record for this rally stage was a 3.55.99; beating this would finally make Catelyn Sammamish the world record holder for all rally stages in the world, a feat no one had ever achieved. Point…, this was the moment that she had been waiting for ever since she fell in love with the sport. 0111111111111111111111111111111111111111!

Thunderous cheers erupted that threatened to bring down the mountain. Everyone proceeded to bomb rush the Fiesta as Catelyn unstrapped herself from the seat and climbed out of the vehicle.

Lifting her in the air as she took off her helmet and let her long brown hair flow, the people yelled out with the power of a thousand suns, CATELYN, CATELYN, CATELYN! A smile spread on her face, her life changing forever.

Connor remembered his mother telling him this story a thousand times, each one becoming more and more boastful. Connor had grown tired of hearing this story, seeing his mother’s face on the side of every building, feeling every emotion for the movies she helped make.

Tonight was no different; his mother would be back in town for the final stop of the premiere of her new movie called Sammamish Rallying. His few friends would be going since their families either owned the cinema, worked on the movie, or provided services to the event. Connor, however, would not be going to his own mother’s premiere. He had gotten into a disagreement with his mother and she had stricken him of his V.I.P. badge. Connor didn’t care as it meant he wouldn’t have to deal with public perception and extended close contact with his mother. It also meant he could earn the cash he so rightfully deserved by working his shift at the local Outback Steakhouse, which just so happened to share an alleyway with the cinema.

Driving past the front of the popcorn dealer, he saw news vans, limos, and security trucks filling the parking lot to the brim. The only space that was available was a thin strip of asphalt for where the red carpet would go. Connor couldn’t help but make a face of disgust at the scene.

Connor proceeded to pull into the back alleyway and park on the far end by the door where he entered to go to work. He didn’t give the brown pickup that was partially covered by a tarp and at the midpoint of the length of the alleyway, a second glance.

—————

A bright light, with the power of a thousand suns. It glared and exemplified everything in its vicinity. Once it found you, it wouldn’t let go.

The spotlight from the helicopter glared and swiveled across the face as the pigeon flew towards its flock, perched atop a light post in the parking lot of the cinema. Its vision narrowed and focused, past the broken beer bottles of the interviewers and their camera crew. Past the discarded guitar picks of the special guest musicians that were attending the premiere, bringing with them every ounce of celebrity smiling they could muster for the cameras. It narrowed until the only thing that could be seen, was the area of the red carpet where all the flashing suns and obnoxiously loud interviewers were.

The bright lights, the gaping holes of smiles and duck lips, the smell of perfume, all the celebrities were seemingly having a great time, but Connor knew better. He could visualize the scene (aided by the noise) happening in the next building over at that moment. He could see his mother now, smiling for the cameras, talking to everyone as if they were her friend, setting herself up for the people’s gratitude. In essence, she was playing it up for the people that didn’t live in her household.

Ring! Order 54! Jarred from spacing out over his mother’s actions, Connor picked up the tray from the window and made way through the bustling of tens of hundreds of people, all yelling, all screaming and throwing crayons, all spilling their drinks and food on the floor, all staring with their piercing eyes, ready to bore through any server who made one wrong move. A typical dinner time environment at Outback and really any restaurant ever.

Rounding the corner and walking towards table 54, Connor could see what he had feared when the gentlemen that had sat down mentioned that there would be more people coming.

Mr. Sammamish! The smell of Isaiah Mustafa and Paris Hilton, the smiles of Napoleon and Maleficent, the look of Jack Link’s and Barbie, the weird fleshy things that called themselves stars, had arrived and sat down at the table, knowing what to order and what to do to make sure Connor served them. Connor had no way of walking away. His job just simply wouldn’t allow it. Breathing heavily and deeply, Connor walked to the table, and served the food.

Alrighty, who had the prime rib steak?

Down here, punk.

And the double bacon beef steakburger?

Right in front of ya, chief

Shredded beef mac and cheese?

Letting go from her boyfriend in front of him, Here, darlin’.

5-Star nachos?

Other end, dull boy.

This moment was what big jock number one from earlier at school had been waiting for, a chance to humiliate Connor in public and an excuse for them to fight. Reaching out in front of his girlfriend and ignoring the fact that one couple at their table hadn’t gotten their food yet, he smacked the plate up and away in the air, sending food flying everywhere, especially the melted cheese of the nachos.

Clash! The noise sent out sounded like a beer fight at a Superbowl party. The nearby surrounding tables all stopped what they were doing and stared. The air turned dry like the Sahara. It was almost like a gunshot had rung out and everyone was on a witch hunt for the perpetrator.

Oops, went the big jock. A devilish smile spread across his face, filling Connor with anger. The girlfriends started snickering, their boyfriends bawling in laughter. Connor just moved on serving the rest of the food, giving big jock number one the death stare. He wiped his hand further on his towel that he had on his pouch around his waist.

Hey, Sammamish, aren’t you gonna clean that up? Connor just continued to stare as he walked away, going to retrieve cleaning supplies for the mess.

My thoughts exactly. It was a miracle that the feud wasn’t ended right then and there. Going into a back room, everything at the tables went back to normal and the surrounding diners almost forgot what had just happened, almost. Connor came back a couple minutes later, armed with cleaning supplies and a manager.

So, gentlemen, I hear you’re disrespecting my employee here.

Nothing of the sort, sir. We just wanted to get some food here and this guy messed up while he was serving us.

Really?

It’s true, and if you don’t believe us, we can leave if you want, and not pay for any services here.

Hold on now…

Connor couldn’t believe that his manager would even for a SECOND, consider anything that came out of the filthy hole in the middle of the head of big jock number one. He was extremely disappointed and proceeded to clean faster as a result, only wanting to get out of there, and this job. He left stains underneath the legs of the table and jumped up to go to the back room and leave the supplies there.

Seeing that his model employee was distraught, Connor’s manager followed him. Connor continued to walk through the kitchen though, only stopping to say hi to his friend Derrick at the front of the kitchen by the serving window. He continued to walk to the rear door with the blazing green exit sign adorned above. This slightly confused the manager as he could understand why Connor would want to do that but had previously believed him to be someone who wouldn’t do such a thing.

The manager tried to yell out to Connor as he exited but the kitchen was too loud. He decided to push through the door and follow Connor, wishing to console his employee.

Feeling the chill of the weather, the manager called out to Connor again, Connor! This time the manager seemed to get Connor’s attention as he stopped and sputtered for a second before turning around and facing his manager.

Connor, what was that all about back there?

Sir, if you knew them, if you knew what they have put me through, the pain they’ve caused, you’d understand. But you don’t know them. You don’t know their mannerisms and their motivations. You just simply don’t know.

Connor, maybe I don’t know everything that’s happened. Maybe I don’t know how life’s been treating you. Maybe I don’t know, but still, I at least would like to know my employees and get a basic understanding of any problems they have so I can better adjust the working environment here at Outback for them.

I appreciate the sentiment, but there’s nothing you can do. Nothing.

You sure?

I’m sure. I just need a moment outside to try and get some serenity, then I’ll be all set to go back inside and start working again.

Well, whatever you need, Connor, just let me know.

I will.

Alrighty then, don’t take too long now.

I’ll try not to, sir.

Turning around and going back inside, Connor’s manager put on a big smile, not revealing to Connor that he had his own issues, as did everyone around him, and everyone on Earth.

Taking a deep and slow breath, Connor focused his mind and tried to clear his thoughts. Nothing to do with anything would enter his mind and destroy his serenity. Not the whine of a turbo, the shriek of a deer, the chatter of a thousand pigs, the clanking of knives, or the brashness of a boar.

Connor…

Connor’s eyes flew open, darting around as if he was having a seizure.

Sammamish. His worst enemies had apparently exited the restaurant and entered the alleyway. He recited his mantra, trying to calm himself and handle the situation with carefulness.

Hey, rally boy. Connor knew not to respond to the association to his mother or the bullies would latch on to that and not let go with a death grip. How’s the Fiesta?

Oh, you know, same as always.

Really? How about the doors? Anything wrong with them?

No, nothing really.

They continued to advance closer, their scents getting stronger, their blackheads larger. Hmmm, very well then. I really thought something was wrong there with your Fiesta for a second. Guess I was wrong.

Well you know, it happens to all of us.

True, true. But then again, I’m never wrong. I don’t like to be wrong.

Gulp.

So, I think some punishment is in order on top of what you did today.

Which was…?

Messing with my girl.

I’m sorry, but I don’t even know her that well.

Lies. You have been stalking her, dreaming of the day you two can be together.

Untrue.

I doubt that.

The jocks started to encircle Connor with the Fiesta being the only thing