James Patterson - Daniel X: Watch the Skies

Copyright 2009 by James Patterson

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Little, Brown and Company

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First eBook Edition: July 2009

Little, Brown and Company is a division of Hachette Book Group, Inc. The Little, Brown name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc. TheLittle, Brown name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

ISBN :978-0-316-07219-9

The Maximum Ride Novels

The Angel Experiment

Schools OutForever

Saving the World and Other Extreme Sports

The Final Warning

MAX

The Daniel X Novels

The Dangerous Days of Daniel X (with Michael Ledwidge)

Daniel X: Watch the Skies (with Ned Rust)

Also by James Patterson

When the Wind Blows

The Lake House

For previews of upcoming books by James Patterson

and more information about the author,

visit www.jamespatterson.com.

For Jack, who completes me

JP

For Ruth, for being proud of me

NR

NIGHTS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOUR SIDE OF THE PLANET IS POINTED AT OUTER SPACE

One

IT WAS A pretty regular early-summer night at 72 Little Lane. The crickets and katydids were making that soothing racket they do on warm, still, small-town evenings. The back porch light was on, but otherwise the tidy brown house was happily, sleepily dark.

At least it was until about eleven thirty, when the dark night in Holliswood became a whole lot darker.

Its hard to exactly translate the command that triggered itit couldnt be heard by human ears, and the language of insects isnt one that can easily be put into words anyhowbut every six-legged creature in the area instantly hid under rocks, wedged into tree bark, or dug down into the dirt and became very, very quiet.

And then, inside the small brown house, it became very, very loud.

Every speakeron the computers, on the cell phones, on the iPods, on the radios, on the telephones, on the brand-new Sony flat screen with THX surround sound and every other TV set in the house, even on the intelligent microwavebegan to blast a dance song from a popular old movie.

A song that just happened to be the favorite of a very powerful alien.

Two

THE BOY FUMBLED for his clock radio. It was blaring some superlame old seventies song by one of those awful disco bands his mom sometimes played in the car. His sister must have changed the station and turned the volume up full blast as a prank. Hed get her backlater, in the morning, when hed had some sleep.

He punched the snooze button, but it didnt shut off. He flicked the switch on the side, but it didnt shut off. He picked up the clock from his bedside table and saw that it was just past eleven thirty. She was going to pay for this.

He reached down and pulled the cord out of the socket but it still didnt shut off.

What the?! he said, and rubbed his eyes with his free hand.

The clocks glowing display now read, DANCE.

And then the disco song started over, and a voice loud and screechy enough to cut through all the noise said: DO THE DANCE!

Now thats freaky, said the boy, and just as he started to get really scared, a blue spark leaped out of the alarm clock and up his armand he bolted out of his room.

He knew what he had to do.

In the hallway he collided with his father but didnt say a word. And now his mom and sister were pushing at him from behind, and the entire family tumbled down the front stairs to the living room.

It was weird, thought the boy, because he was pretty sure he hated dancing.

But now he couldnt stop himself. He strode to the center of the living room and somehow knew exactly what moves to make, andexcept for the look of terror in his eyeshe boogied his heart out like a pimply, pajama-wearing John Travolta.

His mom, dad, and sister didnt look like they were having too much fun, either.

In fact, the only fun in the house was being had by the five grotesque alien beings filming the family from behind the eerie lights, high-tech microphones, and multilens video cameras set up in the adjoining dining room.

They were laughing their slimy heads off. Not literally, but if one of these horrific creatures had actually knocked its own block off, picked it up from the floor, and eaten it, the boy wouldnt have been surprised.

By Antares, theyre good, one of the monsters said, slapping one of its six scaly knees. Its just like Saturday Night Fever!

And then the fat one in chargecradling the bullhorn in his left tentacle, nearly crushing the cheap folding canvas chair with his weightreplied with a sigh.

Yes, its almost a shame we have to terminate them.

Three

THE FIVE ALIENS were still hungry even after their fresh kill. They scuttled and hovered out of the news van theyd swiped from the local TV station and pressed their ugly wet noses against the windows of the Holliswood Diner. A young waitress with wavy black hair was reading a Sherman Alexie paperback at the counter.

Business is about to pick up a lot, said the boss alien, who had a thousand-pound intergalactic champion sumo wrestlers body and the head of a catfish. No ears, no neck, no legsand no manners.

He reached out to his personal assistanta big-nosed space apegrabbed its cell phone, and punched in a number. The three other henchbeasts twitched with anticipation. This was looking to turn into a pretty exciting Saturday night.

When the girl leaned across the counter to pick up the diners phone, a little spark leaped out of the receiver, arcing straight into her ear. Her eyes turned glassy as she put down the phone and went to open the door for them.

What did the Zen Buddhist say to the hot-dog vendor? asked the lead alien as the waitress showed them to their booths, already chuckling to himself at the coming punch line.

Make me one with everything said the girl, robotically.

The creatures burst into laughter.

Actually, on second thought, sweetie, he added, Why dont you go and make us everything with everything. Chop-chop!

Good one, boss! said his assistant, stealthily snatching his cell phone back from where his employer had rested it on the table. He carefully wiped it down with a napkin before putting it back in his purple fanny pack.

The waitress, in the meantime, had flown into motion as if somebody had hit the 2 button on her remote control. She prepared and delivered to the aliens heaping stacks of eggs, bacon, sausage, waffles, coffee, Cokes, bagels, burgers, turkey platters, meatloaf, mashed potatoes, onion rings, cheesesteaks, cheesecakes, clam chowder, gravy fries, banana cream pies, root-beer floats, and chicken-fried steaks. And several mugs of fryer oil.

Careful or youll burn her out, boss, advised one of the henchbeasts.

Like I care, said the boss. We got about six billion of them to get rid of. And, come to think of it, he said with a laugh that sounded like somebody blowing bubbles in turkey gravy, there are plenty more where