The Open Road and Fear of Alien Abduction in Queensland, Australia

Alone under the open sky

There wasn’t much up here. Only the bleached and twisted gum trees that lined the road which stretched long into the shimmering horizon. I stared out the window hoping for a break in the scenery. The heat and long hours of driving had made me restless. There were no signs to reference where we were, or where we had been. It was an empty sun-scorched region of Queensland. Meant only to be passed through on the way to someplace more hospitable.

I had been up here exploring, as I like to do sometimes. I was working on a dive boat in Cairns the month previous. Once the ship arrived back in port I started out on my adventure. I’d been hitchhiking my way around various obscure parts of the north for the last few weeks. Now I felt it was time to head south again. As my money was getting light, I hoped to get down to Sydney and find a job before it ran out.

I didn’t give much thought to being up here alone. I’d traveled to many places on my own in the past. I had always enjoyed the freedom of not knowing where I will find myself the next day. I continued to look off through the heat to the horizon. We drove on late into the day, the view remained unchanged.

Hours later I was dropped at a junction leading to the main highway south. I said my thanks and goodbyes to the driver. A farmer from Capella, heading out to the coast for reasons I can’t remember. As he pulled off I followed the lights far out into the distance. The car’s engine could still be heard long after the lights disappeared. It was dark now. I knew there was little chance of me getting out of here before morning.

I didn’t want to be taken, whatever this was I didn’t want to go

A dimly lit service station hummed off in the distance. I grabbed my pack and started off towards the only light for miles. Reaching the front door I scanned the building’s exterior. It was nothing special. The flashy lights and signs found in most modern service stations were all absent. It was a bare structure, put together in a place that offered no alternatives. The dog guarding the front entrance barely lifted its head as I stepped inside.

I met eyes with the shopkeeper as I enter. He didn’t speak. He gave me a once over then turned his gaze back to the television. It was barren inside and stiflingly hot. An ancient yellow fan whirled in the corner offering no relief from the heat. I had scarcely eaten anything that day and my stomach gnawed. I found a collection of the usual sweet and salty snacks. I grabbed a bag of peanuts and some chocolate. That would have to do.

The shopkeeper turned towards me again as I approached, preparing himself to speak. He looked as though he had been sitting there all his life. As if he and his surroundings completed one another. Emerging from the dim, amber light he shuffled forward as I placed the items on the counter.

He was neither big nor small. His breath rasped as he moved, the floorboards shifting under his weight. He stopped short of the counter, his weathered grey-blue eyes meeting my own. Glancing down at the items, he broke the silence “five dollars”. I paid the man out of my dwindling funds. “Yeh headin’ south?” came the thick northern accent. I nodded, I didn’t feel like speaking right then. “Them’s full a cities down there. I ain’t much for cities.” I nodded again saying thanks, collected my dinner, and headed for the door.

My dusty backpack would be the only sign that I had been here

Back outside I surveyed the outline of a nearby hillside. That is where I would be spending the night. As I cleared the lights of the service station I became wrapped in glittering darkness. The sky was alive with stars. The night was soundless as I walked to the hilltop. Dropping my pack I pulled out my sleeping bag and ground sheet. Laid them out in the dry grass, and crawled inside.

Settling in for the night I snacked on nuts and chocolate as I watched a lightning storm rage far off in the distance. It was mesmerizing and the last thing I remember as I drifted off from another blistering day on the road. I tried to stay focused on this powerful display of nature as my eyes grew heavy, the heat taking me down into where I lay. I watched the electric lights for a little longer, then I was asleep.

Screeching filled the air jolting me awake. Then lights, big bright lights descending on me. My fingers clawed into the earth on either side of me. My body was rigid in petrified disbelief. Desperate to grasp what was happening. I could only come up with one answer. It’s real, the phenomenon is real! I screamed in panic fighting back in my sleeping bag as the craft closed in.

Searing white light flooded the hilltop from above. The screeching then turned to a deep thunderous roar as if I had been caught inside a massive waterfall. I felt as if the world around me was being shaken violently. I didn’t want to be taken, whatever this was I didn’t want to go. I had heard of abduction stories in remote parts of the world before. Late-night television was filled with them. That was going to be me now. As the lights drew in above me there was nowhere to hide. My dusty backpack would be the only sign that I had been here. The tired old shopkeeper would be the last person to see me alive.

Camped out on a barren hillside, alone in an empty region of north Queensland, this would be it. There would be few clues to the world of my disappearance. My vision was still fixed upward in horror from the brightly lit hilltop as the lights continued to engulf my surroundings. Then as my eyes began to adjust, I started to notice something.

The light changed and moved with the craft. As it roared down on me I started to make out its edges, its features. I saw white, then the flash of a long smooth underside. I noticed it had a faint outline of a cross shape to it. Then I saw wheels. It was a plane. A very large plane, and as it disappeared over the hilltop the tension in my body released. I must have camped near a remote airstrip somewhere. I breathed for a moment, still in shock. That was a lot of adrenaline to process, and it had been delivered in a rather violent and terrifying manner.

I looked out into the sky again. The lightning storm was over, the plane was now gone. At least I knew where I was now, kind of. I laid back on the grass again staring up into the stars. Then before long, the heat eased me back into the world from which I had been so forcibly displaced.

Morning arrived, and with it the sun resumed its work over the arid outback. The heat was building and I needed to move. I rolled out of my sleeping bag looking at my surroundings. I was on the highest point for miles. Thousands of acres spilled out before me in every direction. The sizzling horizon was the only movement that caught my eye. The air was still, soundless. I gathered my things and headed down the hill. The shock from the previous night’s encounter was now gone. I chuckled to myself as I tramped through the dry scrub back to the road.

I waited for a few hours in the partial shade of a gum tree. I had enough water for the day so I relaxed knowing someone would come along eventually. This was a unique part of the world. Not much happens up here, but I think for the locals that’s the whole point.

As I sat there the shape of a red pickup truck appeared in the distance. Dust boiled in its wake as it drew closer. I stepped into view dragging my pack with me. The truck’s engine changed tone shortly after. The driver slowed to a stop, waving me in. Then I was off, back on the road at the start of another day. Where I would find myself tomorrow, I did not know.