Splintered Energy (The Colors Book 1)

by Arlene Webb

  “I trusted you,” Malcolm snapped. “Leave. Now, before I harm you.”

  Huh? He’d screwed up? Again? Hot tears spurted onto Evan’s cheeks. “I-I couldn’t find blue rope. Took long enough to get this. Just give me a sec.” Frickin’ hands shaking—finally, he had the box open. He plugged the sink, turned the water on, added some dye, and dropped the rope. Those laser eyes were beyond cool, but Evan feared to face the alien that stared at him like he held the wrong color kryptonite.

  He pulled the rope up. A definite shade of pastel blue. He dropped it back, mumbled, “It’ll get bluer if I leave it in longer.” He wiped his face and turned.

  Sapphire beams sparkled—at Evan! Like Malcolm didn’t loathe him for being so stupid. A true smile lit his damaged face, and Evan fought the urge to buckle to his knees.

  “You made the rope beautiful.” Malcolm laughed, a musical burst of joy.

  The notes zapped into Evan, and his heart exploded with relief. Intense molecules danced around Malcolm, glowing with electric luminosity. Finally, Evan had done something right. So what, a raging yellow female wanted him dead. Some sort of man-angel had allowed him into his home, and Evan floated on clouds. If only he could understand how to always please the guy talking to him—other than paying attention with a brain turned to mush. Hard to concentrate past the radiance of that smile.

  “Evan, listen. Please. Could you put some of that powder in with me?”

  “Sure.” He blinked dots from his vision and poured the rest of the dye in the tub where, to Malcolm’s obvious delight, the water turned sky blue around him. No way would Evan ever leave. His man-angel had a helper, whether he wanted him or not. “This is so weird. After your blue beauty soak, maybe you’ll let me get you to a hospital. Promise you’ll think about it, okay? I’ll get working on that taser.”

  Reluctant to go far, Evan dumped the sack from the electronic store and tools from his truck onto the bed. He thought Malcolm had submerged again. Oxygen inflating his boring-human lungs, Evan pulled out his cell phone. He couldn’t begin to understand what went on in the mind of the being trapped in human form, who was thrilled with a ninety-nine cent box of dye.

  * * *

  Under the beautiful water, Malcolm listened to the oblivious mumbling from the bed. Evan lied to his parent, saying he worked late, would hang at Scott’s for the night, be home tomorrow, and yes, he’d mow the damn lawn. The next call to Scott requested cover. It was none of his friend’s business, and no, he wouldn’t tell him who the girl was, even if there were one. The third call begged a different male to work Evan’s shift tomorrow.

  No mention of Earth’s invasion, but tonight and tomorrow were cleared. The stubborn youth refused to comprehend how he complicated things. It was now impossible to control yellow. Malcolm must zap her offline again. With a weapon yet to be made, his injuries would render any attempt certain to result in his pulverized demise.

  Time ran out for another option. Jane Doe’s existence confirmed his suspicions. One found left four or five still lost to him and six, probably seven hosts dead. One of the two stronger could force her to reason or finish her.

  Malcolm lifted his pain-racked carcass out of the tub. “Evan, you must leave.”

  “I’ll get you a towel.”

  “Oh my, no, unless you dye or purchase pleasing ones. There’s no time. It’s the computer for me and you finally gone.”

  So damn aggravating. Evan tugged Malcolm to the bed. Malcolm was unable to control the trickle leaking from the corner of his mouth. Why was he cooperating? Yet—the pain. He’d sit, for a minute, and then he’d kill Evan himself.

  “Where she bit you, the edges are green like gangrene,” Evan said. “Your skin feels hot. Shouldn’t you be cool from the water?”

  “You need to shut up.”

  “I’ll try not to touch you, but come on. Lay back. When you move, blue stuff drips. My laptop is in the truck. I’ve a really long cable if you’re not wireless—”

  Malcolm stood. He grasped Evan’s arm, his bruise deliberate. His other hand fastened, a rude clasp, over the teenager’s mouth. The fool had to understand a monster listened. “Fine, bring me the laptop. Take the gun. She opens the door—stun her. If she reaches toward you, kill her. Don’t speak any further, not a whisper, about irrelevant injuries. I’m very strong and tire of your fussing.”

  Evan’s glance at the weapon parts on the bed confirmed his acknowledgement of the lie.

  Malcolm took his hand from Evan’s mouth. His stroking fingers evaporated tears. Without hesitation, he lowered his hands to Evan’s chest. His surge violated fabric and skin to numb pain awakened by lifting, carrying, running errands. Malcolm’s rays penetrated Evan, conveyed affection, and the youth’s dopamine levels rose. Why not give pleasure? Let the man feel a taste of power in cascading waves of blue. Evan was already lost in Malcolm’s light. If he didn’t cooperate, he’d soon be dead. A bitter solace, this anesthetizing of hurt, calming a gullible servant.

  Evan drew a pain-free breath and nodded his enlightenment.

  Malcolm shuddered and sat down. Not mentally deficient, just irrepressibly stubborn, Evan had understood the reason for the deception of a cell phone weapon.

  “Well, okay then.” Evan turned and exited the bedroom.

  Malcolm wiped his mouth and dragged himself backward to lean against the headboard. He ignored the pliers and favored his bitten arm instead of the broken one as he connected wires.

  * * *

  Currents, surges of energy flooded Evan. Electric rushes of wild feel-good, and then, zaps of strength as if he could conquer anything. Euphoric, maybe like popping ecstasy if he ever dared to experiment. Power, intense, turning him on—making him gay? Malcolm, too? Nah. The caress made Evan think that kinda, maybe, Malcolm cared, but in a “make the pain go away” type contact. No way had the blue guy wanted to touch Evan until guilted into it.

  Laptop in hand, he hurried down the hall and came to a petrified halt. In the doorway to the hell room, Jane’s eyes flickered shades of yellow-green, beautifully bright.

  Cell phone clutched tight, Evan almost dropped the laptop, and homosexual—no frickin’ way. His blood raced south. Jane’s lemony body left him speechless. He’d only seen completely naked women on video, photos, and screens. He’d enjoyed the sight and feel of real breasts, but never seen every curve of nudity on a human female, let alone alien, in the living flesh. A golden beauty stood, less than three feet from him.

  Waves of charged air seem to roll off her petite frame. Full breasts, nipples a deeper shade, and her hair down there was also spun bright gold. The wiry muscles in her slender form only hinted at her incredible strength. Shouldn’t he run, exhale, even swallow the fear and was that, yep, drool, but no, he trembled and absorbed every detail.

  Those eyes—she hates me—I’m a dead man.

  “I know you’ve learned English,” Malcolm called out over the language disc still playing. “Cooperate and we won’t kill you. Cross the line of death, Evan will use the gun. While you’re unconscious, he’ll put you in a death room, not the safe room you’re in now, and wake you. I’m Malcolm. I’ve named you, Jane Doe. Move back on the bed. Be civil, and Evan will bring you water.”

  To Evan’s astonishment, the yellow beauty snarled and obeyed. Without taking her strange eyes off him, she bounded gracefully backward to land in the center of the bed.

  “Evan, fill something clean with water. Make sure it’s yellow, black or clear. Set it over the gauze and close the door. If she moves, kill her. Thank you.”

  Evan set the laptop aside and did exactly as he’d been told. He flinched at the woman glaring from the bed, water swirling as he set a glass pitcher down as fast as he could. Jane blended in with the room in shades of yellow, a color that’d cause instant nausea in him from now on. He closed the door, grabbed the laptop, and fled toward Malcolm’s cool voice.

  “Thanks to you, Jane Doe, I’m injured. But I can still arrange your demise if you attempt
to harm us again. Calm yourself. Music discs are beside the player. When you’re ready to talk without senseless violence, I have answers.”

  Malcolm wiped his mouth as Evan entered. He’d tried to hide that he’d thrown up. Evan had to keep his mouth shut. Hell bitch had super-hearing or something. He handed Malcolm the laptop and mumbled, “What’re you looking for? You know, if you weren’t so stingy with the info, I might be able to help.”

  “Go to the other computer.”

  Evan didn’t breathe until he’d made it down the hall. By the time he sat at the desk, Malcolm had connected and written: She hears every breath within a twelve yard radius. Along with superior hearing, photographic memory, she comprehends English. She’ll soon realize white can’t absorb, nor take purity, and she’ll cross that gauze. The taser isn’t even together. I waste time trying to remove your ‘will get us killed’ self from these premises. Go, and I can function knowing you’re not crushed to a pulp.

  Evan forced his fingers to work, typing fast: if there’s no one u trust to help, i just can’t walk. I’ll be quiet while u make that taser. He hit send and trucked back down the hall. Maybe if he didn’t touch, didn’t talk, barely breathed, he wouldn’t get yelled at. This constant telling him to leave got on his nerves. How rational could this super-brilliant man-angel be to expect that?

  Eyes downcast, gonna kill himself if he started crying, he huddled on the bed, and halted his reach for the partially assembled taser. Malcolm angled the laptop so Evan could read.

  I don’t want your help. I’m trying to locate the others, like me, except obviously ugly. Orange could control yellow with ease. I traced to a medical facility in Arizona. I know you don’t understand. I’m two days old, trying to learn. I won’t make it to three because of you. I need to contact without alerting authorities. They’d contain me. None of us would bear it. Some of us may kill to avoid it. No doubt that she will.

  More colors! Malcolm shook his head with disgust as Evan grasped the laptop. Jesus, how many aliens were there? He chewed his lower lip and typed, could that orange work a computer? if i can figure it out or u with your awesome powers could, we could send message. Need to override anti virus controls.

  “Virus?” Malcolm gestured Evan to continue typing.

  Not just email but a pop up window on, online screens worldwide. coded message with address except a virus can’t propagate unless opened or downloaded. exploiting a web browser flaw by using a buffer overflow? search engines use page rankings, tells how often someone searched, u know for colored aliens or somethin. create a page with the message?

  Malcolm confiscated the laptop. He changed screens so fast Evan couldn’t read. But who cared? That clawed, infected face shone so beautiful when Malcolm smiled, and life was beyond sweet while an alien angel seemed pleased with you.

  When Evan reached for the taser, he startled at the cold bolt of energy shooting up his arm. How to describe this “didn’t want to touch him” tap to get his attention? Even more electrifying, look what Malcolm wanted Evan to see—a schematic of a taser.

  Malcolm rehooked a wire Evan had placed. After he understood, Malcolm minimized the window and continued with that genius speed-reading. A moment later, Malcolm again corrected the complicated wiring. He actually waited, letting Evan read the message typed in lovely blue font: Yellow is with me. I have some answers, but need rational assistance. Please contact. Time runs out. 455-492nm @ innet.net.

  Had Malcolm sent a universal pop-up? Goddamn cool. Evan frowned as he concentrated and watched agile blue fingers. Malcolm wasn’t just making a custom designed taser. He taught Evan every step of the way.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “You really think I could teach her to read?” David bounced with excitement while Aaron clicked to another news website. It’d been fifteen dull minutes since they’d left Jade with the new clothes, and he fought the urge to drag her into the “light.”

  “Yep. With photographic memory—”

  “Whoa. Look at that weird pop-up.” David leaned forward to peer at the screen. In the lower right of the website, a message had appeared out of nowhere.

  “Someone found yellow? Whoa is right,” Aaron said. “Interesting email address. After a fast Google, I’ll answer.”

  “What will you say?”

  “Hang on. I need to check frequencies…here we go.” Yippee. Aaron’s memory wasn’t as bad as he’d thought. He closed out and typed: 455-492, we wish to protect 492-577. Who are you?

  Aaron clicked on send and the air whooshed from his lungs at the sight of Jade peeking from his bedroom doorway. The green shirt and black jeans hugged sweet curves. Her drying hair brushed her face and then tumbled past her waist. She’d skipped the sandals.

  “Nice.” David grinned at her. “The clothes fit perfect. We found a message about color. Didn’t say much, but dad answered.” David abandoned his drooling father and tugged Jade to the couch. “Come learn to read. Dad will decipher the reply, if we get one.”

  Jade sat down, clutched David, and stared at Aaron.

  He swallowed his lust and smiled. “Concentrate on the black letters. If it’s too much, sit with me, okay? I’ll take you on a scenic scroll of the net.” He turned back to the computer. “Forget the redwoods, but the Emerald Isle has some pretty pictures.”

  David opened a magazine and started reading out loud.

  Ten minutes was all it took.

  “But…protests?” Jade whispered to David. “All people fight like this? I don’t understand, and why’s color mixed?”

  Her voice sounded so tremulous, Aaron yearned to race over and scoop her up.

  “Try and ignore what looks off to you.” David’s grin went from ear to ear. “Want to read to yourself?”

  “Please turn the pages? I don’t like to look, but touching is worse.”

  The computer ping of incoming almost had Aaron bolting out of the chair. Could life get more interesting? He opened the message, and knew it just had.

  We don’t belong here. 492-577 could help us return. I can’t come to you, and have limited control over 577-597, who knows the language. Please.

  Oh Lord. Astonishment jolted through Aaron. 577-597? His refreshed memory recognized the wavelength of yellow. In the subject slot of the message stood ten numbers. “Eureka. David, we got a phone number. I’m calling it now.”

  David nodded, eyes lit with excitement. Aaron didn’t have the heart to remind Jade to take that death grip off the boy, and David wasn’t complaining.

  One ring and the line opened. A calm, masculine voice flowed into Aaron’s ear. “My name is Malcolm. Please, there’s little time. I need the assistance of green. I’m not human and neither is the one with you.”

  “What are you?” Aaron asked.

  David leapt to his feet, trying to coax Jade to move with him.

  “I can hear your breathing, Green. Will you use the phone, I mean, is it black? Please, just speak if it’s easier. I’m so glad to have found you.”

  Her huge emerald eyes were rimmed with fear, and David pushed their trembling alien onto his father. Aaron fought the wonder twisting at hurricane speed throughout his brain and gathered Jade into his arm. “It’s okay, Jade. He says he’s like you.” He placed her onto his knee and switched his cell to speaker.

  “Jade, a perfect name,” Malcolm said. “Don’t fear me. I need your help. Can you come to me?”

  “You sound wrong,” Jade whispered. “You’re hurt. I want to go back! Do you know what…why I am?”

  “The man holds you? You must trust him. He’ll read aloud if you’ve yet to learn. I’m no threat to you, and you belong beside me. I repeat—I’m very happy to have found you.”

  The line disconnected. Jade belongs beside him? Funny way to word things. Aaron barely had time to draw a breath before a message, blue font, printed on his screen: Yellow’s out of sync. She has injured me. Evan’s a human hindering me, despite my requests he leave. Please. Join me? Cleveland, Ohio.

  O
ne glance into raging green anxiety was enough for Aaron to take charge. He honed in around Jade for the keyboard: Cleveland is a distance. We’re in California. What, how many are you? Why’d yellow harm you?

  Malcolm’s reply came instantly: This is the man? I hope Jade’s lack of typing means she hasn’t learned to read yet. Not that she’s too fearful to communicate. Jade, follow the pattern. It’s easy. Please. I’m no threat. How much travel time? We’ve given yellow, Jane Doe, a room of her color. Yet, she’s violent.

  Sunny shade rises from the dead as a monster. Seriously? Aaron kept his whirling thoughts to himself as he typed: Jane Doe?

  Malcolm: The name confuses? How far away are you?

  That name is given to the unidentified dead. We could drive. It’s over 2000 miles. Take 2 days. Flying, we’d arrive in 8-10 hours. This Jane Doe hurt you?

  Malcolm: Elaborate on airplanes.

  Commercial airlines require picture ID and the green skin’s a problem. Jade thinks certain colors, especially white can harm her. Would other passengers be in danger? She doesn’t know who, what she is, and you aren’t answering me. I could charter a jet. Less flight time, costs around 20 grand, requires ID, involves a crew. Give me reason to trust you.

  Malcolm: Sorry. No time to build trust. I must stun yellow now. That will render her as dead until hit with the correct current. This computer contains what answers I have. I don’t know when rot will set in, but upon arrival Jade must NOT attempt to revive yellow alone. No human can subdue yellow. Find orange and red. 55 Edgewood Lane, Chagrin Falls, Ohio. I fear to wait another minute. No reason, if your arrival will take so long.

  Aaron blinked, struggling to process and write at the same time. Private jet’s faster, but many security complications. I do have a pilot’s license. If I grabbed a rental, they know me at the airport, wouldn’t need ID for Jade. Best guess, 12-14 hours if plane available now. You won’t be there? How injured are you?