They say we had no idea they were coming. I say we've known about them for years. Hell, why do you think the Russians and us wanted to get up there so suddenly. They wanted a better look at the thing. Billions of dollars they spent to get a look at it first and now the whole world can see it for free every night. Sure the mustache, that's what my grand daughter calls it, caused a hell of a lot of panic. I'd never seen so many people packed into St. Catherine's that Sunday, but it also amazed and wondered. We, humans that is, suddenly weren't alone anymore. For a lot of people that was fine as long as they stayed up there, but then they decided to drop in and introduce themselves.
Not only did they decide to drop in, but everyone started losing it because it was the night of Christmas eve. "Angels," they cried. That was before the Christmas day massacre. I'm not sure what exactly happened, but whatever it was it pissed them off enough to vaporize anyone who got near their ship. That was it, people snapped. They packed up what they had and got the hell out of Dodge.
Chaos descended onto land, and I'm not just talking about the people. The landscape started to change and funny things started to happen. The egghead on the radio said that they use stuff from a perpendicular dimension and that it pokes holes in our dimension like a needle in cloth or something like that. She also said that those holes may continue to tear the more visitors we get. The tearing causes weird phenomena and the other worldly relics left by the visitors create a deadly attraction to people.That's why the government brass set up the End Zone.
As for right now, the city is quiet, which I'm happy with. It's a pain that Ivan decided to try and nuke a couple of the saucers after the massacre and now winter is a month longer. But every few weeks another ship comes down, not afraid of us a damn bit, stays for a week, and bugs off again. Then, as usual, you get the influx of people, like yourselves, who managed to slip by or pay off the military. The End Zone is a magnet for scientists looking to make a name for themselves, and criminals who want theirs forgotten. Spiritualists and treasure hunters looking for their salvation. But the End Zone is as deadly as it is tempting. A woman came by few weeks ago showing off what she thought was one of those perpetual batteries you've probably seen and in the process it blew her head and arm clean off.
As for me, I was born in Detroit, I was raised in Detroit, and, by God, I'm going to die in Detroit. My only hope is that there's still a spot left for me when the time comes.