Free Majestic by Whitley Strieber

509th."
    That stopped even Hesseltine. The PFC's eyes were wide.
    "I'm armed," Walters said. He produced a police special from under his jacket. "The man on watch carries it in his belt."
    "Is it a regulation weapon?" Gray asked. "I didn't think civilians could carry weapons on base."
    "Consider me a cop. That's what counterintelligence is, kid. Police work."
    Gray didn't know Walters all that well, but he'd always had a lot of respect for the man. His background as a police detective combined with his toughness and brains made him one of the best counterintelligence men that Gray had ever met. With communist fifth columnists, fellow travelers and spies said to be everywhere, good men were needed to protect the 509th.
    He lay on his back with a couch cushion for a pillow. First PFC Winters went on watch, then Hesseltine.
    Gray had decided that the postmidnight hours were the most dangerous, and assigned them to himself and Walters. There would be four two-hour watches from nine P.M., then reveille along with the rancher, who ordinarily got up at five.
    He must have slept a little, because Hesseltine's place was empty and the PFC was snoring peacefully when he opened his eyes again. Walters had been sawing Z's from the second they'd snuffed the oil lamp. Gray lit a cigarette.
    He could easily imagine Russians sneaking around out here. He thought of the goldbeater's skin. How the hell had they done it? He'd never seen anything even remotely like it. Incredibly tough. Incredibly light.
    Suddenly Hesseltine was whispering in his ear. "Your turn, boss."
    Gray looked at his radium-dial watch. "You've got it, Mr. Hesseltine." He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray he'd brought down to the floor. "Any sign of anything?"
    "It's been quiet, except for the porcupines, badgers, ferrets, owls, coons and coyotes. Not to mention the things that
    scream."
    There was nothing screaming now. As a matter of fact it was absolutely quiet, absolutely dark and about as lonely a place as Gray had ever been in. The Milky Way came right down to both horizons. Even a tiny constellation like Lyra stood out clearly. The only way you could tell where the land started was that there were no stars there.
    Gray wished he had another cigarette, but you didn't carry lights on watch. He stood in front of the house beside the bulk of his staff car. It would have been nice to see if he could pick up some dance music, but he supposed that all the radio stations would be shut down by now.
    One-fifteen. As his eyes slowly adjusted to the dark he took a walk around the house. He moved up toward the barn, which was small and ramshackle. There was a horse snorting inside, and he could hear sheep bleating somewhere off in the distance. There were rustles and shuffling sounds and occasional low growls in the brush.
    Once he was startled to see what he thought might have been a glow on the horizon, but it disappeared and he didn't see it again.
    An hour passed.
    Then he heard a noise unlike any he had heard before. It cut through him like a white-hot blade.
    Walters and the rancher and Hesseltine came pouring out the kitchen door. PFC Winters stood behind them.
    "What the hell was it," Walters breathed.
    "Damned if I know," Gray said. The scream was still echoing in his head. "What about it, Mr. Ungar?"
    The rancher was standing very still, staring into the black night. "I heard it right after the crash. I lived here all my life, and I never heard anything like it before."
    Gray's fingers closed around the piece of foil in his pocket. In his mind there had formed a question, but he did not yet know how to put it into words.
    "Goddamn," Hesseltine said softly.
    The rancher backed up against his screen door.
    From inside the house a child keened, and Mrs. Ungar offered comfort in a shaking voice.
    Ungar whispered, "The other night when I heard it, I thought nothing could sound like that but the devil."
    "It's real," Walters said. "We all heard it."
    They were silent,