by Kelly Goode
‘Jeez, will you stop creeping around like that. I could’ve shot you.’
‘Your reactions aren’t that quick.’
She ignored that comment, as he was probably right. For such a tall, well-built man, he moved like a stealthy predator.
‘What did you find upstairs?’ she asked.
‘All the rooms are wrecked.’
‘Damn it. Who would do this?’
‘I don’t know, but I better let Chief Melman know.’
Carson nodded, but then grabbed Blake’s arm to stop him activating the communicator on his wrist.
‘Hold on, wait. Look. The pantry door is open.’
The door was at the far end of the kitchen and as it had been painted the same colour as the wall, it blended in. The only reason she’d noticed it at all was because it was slightly ajar. Blake crossed the room and she followed. He fully opened the door and then frowned.
‘It’s not a pantry,’ he said. ‘There are stairs here.’
‘Leading up or down?’
‘Down.’
‘Basement then.’
Blake nodded and stepped aside so Carson could see the narrow staircase.
‘Let’s go,’ she said.
‘I think we should call it in first.’
A scuffling sound below their feet had Carson shaking her head.
‘No time to wait for back-up. We need to check what’s making that noise. It might be Malone.’
Blake shook his head and his long dirty-blond hair fell across his face.
‘It’s not Malone.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘Because there is nothing down there with a heartbeat.’
35
Blake wished Carson wouldn’t keep asking him how he knew the house was empty. He couldn’t easily explain how he could segregate sounds and so knew they were only living creatures inside the house.
‘We need to report this,’ he said, but Carson grabbed his arm to prevent him from calling Chief Melman.
‘Not yet.
‘Stop fucking around, Carson. You know as well as I do that we need a forensic team to secure the entire house. We’re wasting time.’
‘I’m not letting a victim or a perpetrator escape because of protocol. Something made a noise down there. I’m not waiting for the cleaners.’
Her face was set into a determined expression and he knew there was no dissuading her.
‘Fine,’ Blake said. ‘We’ll check the basement and then call it in.’
‘Agreed. I’ll go first.’
‘Like hell you will.’
Carson rolled her eyes, ensuring he saw the gesture. ‘This is the twenty-first century, Blake. Women no longer cower behind men.’
Her sassiness and disregard for danger, equally frustrated and aroused him so without warning, he closed the distance between them and captured her mouth with his. It was a hard clash of lips and tongues, but she didn’t hold back and returned his kiss with as much enthusiasm. The fire between them was unlike any that he’d experienced with other women. Their lips moulded around each other, and he pressed her back against the wall, slanting his mouth to deepen the kiss. Blood pounded in his ears, but eventually logic overcame his lust and he pulled away. He rested his forehead against hers while he caught his breath.
‘Blake, I don’t…’
He didn’t let her finish her sentence and her blue eyes widened when he rubbed his thumb over her swollen bottom lip.
‘I never want you to cower behind me, Carson,’ he said, hoping he could convey how much she meant to him with his tone. ‘We’re partners. When I lead from the front, it means you have my back. I trust you explicitly. Understand?’
She nodded mutely and he couldn’t resist pressing his lips gently against hers one last time. This time when he pulled away, he squared back his shoulders and stared her straight in the eye.
‘When we finish this assignment, we need to talk,’ he said. ‘Because whatever this thing between us is, it isn’t going to go away. You know that don’t you?’
Carson nodded again and Blake pulled his gun from his belt. She mimicked his actions and together they slowly made their way down the stairs. The staircase was narrow enough that his shoulders filled the space from wall to banister. He felt Carson’s back against his as she walked down the stairs and pictured the concentration on her face as she kept her eyes trained on their exit. He wasn’t expecting trouble, but he dealt with the situation as he’d been trained. He moved silently down the stairs, sweeping the air with his gun as he checked for assailants.
‘All clear,’ he said, as he stepped into the basement.
‘Can you see a light switch anywhere?’ she asked. ‘I can’t see a thing.’
Blake didn’t need any additional light as his eyesight was perfectly capable of making out the shapes in the darkness.
‘I think we’ve located Doctor Malone’s secret laboratory,’ he said, as a sinister feeling settled in his stomach like a heavy weight. He heard the scrape of Carson’s hands as she groped the wall for a light switch. There was a single bulb above his head, so he pulled the cord and illuminated the basement with a soft blue glow. Tanks of fluids, trays of surgical equipment, and computer equipment filled the small space. Unlike upstairs, everything was neatly ordered and seemed to be in its rightful place.
‘The intruder obviously didn’t find this place,’ Blake added, crossing to the laptop that sat on the stainless steel work surface. ‘I wonder if they were looking for the doctor’s files.’
He switched it on and pressed a few buttons, but the screen remained black.
‘It looks dead to me,’ Carson said, ‘but the chief said someone accessed the network an hour ago from this location. Maybe Malone has a second unit like a tablet or iPad.’
‘You could be right. The tech team should be able to power this up and check the browser history. The doctor was dedicated to his work at the unit. He wouldn’t just leave without good reason. We just need to figure out what that reason was.’
36
Carson had thought the stench upstairs was bad, but the longer she stayed in the basement, the harder it became to breathe. She inhaled sharply, but the stench seemed to take on a physical form, filling her lungs like expanding foam. She gagged and clasped her palm over her mouth and nose.
‘I think I’m going to be sick.’
‘Here use this,’ Blake said, lifting his T-shirt over his head and handing it to her. She scrunched the cotton into a ball and pressed it against her nose and mouth.
Blake’s natural clean and fresh scent penetrated the odour of rotting meat and decay, and while she tried to regain control of her gag reflex, she allowed her gaze to drift over his shirtless torso. His stomach muscles and biceps were well-defined and his light-brown chest hair seemed to signpost a path to the waistband of his low-hung jeans. She replayed how he’d kissed her at the top of the stairs. She’d vowed after the last time, she would keep her distance from him, but instead had melted into his arms like an ice-cream left out in the sun. He said they needed to talk about what was going on between them, but the truth was, she was falling for him and there was no way she was telling him how she really felt.
Carson switched her attention from his shirtless body to the pile of carcasses in the corner of the room. That had the desired effect and curbed her libido. The various stages of decomposition to the small, dead animals turned her stomach again. Rotten flesh and clumps of fur were all that remained of some of the carcasses.
‘Do you think Malone was breeding these cats?’ she asked, and even though her voice was muffled by the cotton, Blake heard her well enough to answer.
‘Yeah, but I don’t think that was the only thing he was breeding,’ he replied, as he crossed the room and picked up a glass jar from a metal gurney, which was the same type used in hospitals to transport patients. ‘I think he was studying alien genetics.’
‘What’s inside the jar?’
‘A desquamater’s ha
nd.’
Blake examined a few other jars and Carson joined him. She thought she heard a low repetitive swishing sound below her feet, but couldn’t pinpoint the source of the noise.
‘It looks like Malone was conducting his own research,’ she said, as each glass container they inspected held some form of alien body part floating in a golden liquid. In the last jar there was a scouter’s head, which she quickly bypassed, even though the image of its sightless eyes and gaping mouth was already imprinted on her brain.
‘I think Malone was breeding all those cats upstairs as a food source,’ Blake said.
‘For what?’
‘I don’t know yet.’
Carson’s stomach twisted, and this time she heard a definite rustle from beneath the steel gurney. She held Blake’s T-shirt against her face with one hand and raised her gun with the other.
‘Could the creature still be down here?’ she asked.
‘The only two heartbeats are ours.’
‘You can’t possibly know that for sure. I heard something earlier, I’m sure of it.’
‘Trust me, it’s an old army technique of separating sounds,’ he replied. ‘I promise you, there’s nothing alive down here but us.’
Like a scene from a bad horror movie, a dark shape emerged from beneath the gurney and launched itself at Carson. She screamed as it collided with her chest. The force knocked her to the floor and she dropped her gun. Her head bounced against the stone floor, causing a bolt of pain to shoot through her body. Momentarily winded, she couldn’t move as the creature sat on her stomach. It was roughly the same size as her, but consisted of skin and bones. Dark fur was matted around its black eyes and cavernous mouth, and Carson could clearly count its ribs through the sparse fur on its body. It growled, exposing its sharp teeth. Its breathing seemed laboured, as if it was using a lot of energy.
‘Carson, don’t move.’
Blake had his gun pointed at the creature, which didn’t seem afraid of the weapon. Its sharp claws punctured Carson’s top and cut into her stomach.
‘Malone?’ she whispered. ‘Is that you? Did an alien bite you?’
Blake shook his head. ‘It’s not Malone.’
The creature inclined its head as if listening to their conversation. Carson inched her hand towards her gun, which was just out of reach.
‘Forgive me if I stop taking you at your word, Blake but you said nothing was down here and you were wrong.’
Blake crouched beside Carson and the creature growled.
‘This is a jaktten,’ he said. ‘It won’t hurt you, if you remain still.’
‘It sure looks like it wants to hurt me.’
‘It’s starving. Its body had started to shut down its internal organs to conserve energy. That’s why I couldn’t sense its heartbeat. It had effectively stopped.’
Blake’s green eyes were like hard chips of glass inside his face as he stared at the creature.
‘I can help you,’ he said, but the jaktten just growled in reply and started shaking. ‘I can find you food and shelter. Just hold on a little longer, please.’
Carson felt the creature's claws sink into her stomach another centimetre and she groaned against the pain. A fresher scent of blood joined the stench of decay, and this seemed to affect the jaktten as its dark eyes glazed over.
‘Don’t do it,’ Blake ordered, and she wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or the creature, but she lunged for her gun all the same.
The jaktten let out a high-pitched howl and Carson felt its breath on her neck as its mouth locked around her throat. Blake’s reactions were as quick as ever and he discharged his weapon. The pop-pop of the bullets erupting and the thud-thud as they hit the creature’s body was loud in the sterile room.
‘Shit, Carson, did it bite you? Let me see.’
Blake pulled her to her feet and away from the dead alien. Her head spun and she held onto his shoulders for support. He examined her neck, which felt sore beneath his searching hands.
‘It…it tried to bite me,’ she stammered.
‘That was close. Too fucking close. Luckily, it wasn’t strong enough to break your skin or else we’d be having a completely different conversation about infection and imminent death.’
‘You saved me. Thank you.’
Blake’s eyes narrowed. ‘But I couldn’t save the jaktten. Damn Malone and his research. Why in the world would he leave an otherwise peaceful alien in his basement to die?’
‘I don’t think he wanted it to die,’ Carson reasoned. ‘You said yourself that he was probably feeding the cats to it. I don’t think he meant to abandon it like this.’
‘Doesn’t make it right.’
Carson pressed her hand against his bare chest.
‘You didn’t have a choice, Blake.’
‘It was hungry. Starving. It wanted to live.’
Blake pulled away from her and put his hands on top of his head. He closed his eyes as he paced. He seemed genuinely upset that he’d eliminated the alien.
‘You’ve killed aliens before, Blake. What makes this time any different?’
Blake spun around and slammed his fist into the wall. The brickwork cracked and plaster fluttered through the air like snowflakes.
‘I kill predators, Carson. Scouters. Desquamaters. Not damn jaktten who are on the edge of starvation.’
She reached for him again, but he pushed her hand away as if swatting a fly.
‘Fuck,’ he roared into the air, loud enough for the test tubes and beakers to rattle in their cases.
‘Blake, please, calm down, it wasn’t your fault.’
He ignored her and strode towards the staircase. She knew better than to follow him. He needed time to process and reconcile his actions. She waited until she heard his heavy footfall against the ceiling overhead before she clicked her communicator.
‘Report,’ said Tom’s tinny voice through the small speaker, and for a second she didn’t know what to say. ‘Carson? Are you there? Are you ok?’
‘Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. I need a cleaning unit despatched to Doctor Malone’s address.’
‘Did you find him?’
‘No. We found something worse.’
37
Blake morphed from wolf to man just as the sun began its final descent behind the horizon. He waited patiently in the shadows of a neighbouring building and accounted for each member of the team as they left HQ for Malone’s house. As he’d predicted, Chief Melman was the last to leave, but there was no denying the concern on the old man’s face as he got into his car and pulled away. Once he’d gone, Blake took his opportunity to slip inside the building. The night security guard was old and prone to falling asleep, so didn’t pose a problem. He only kept the job because he was Sheridan’s grandfather and the young agent usually made sure the chief didn’t catch him napping on duty.
Blake felt a stab of guilt as he punched in Carson’s manual key code to gain access, but figured that out of all the agents, Melman was more likely to believe her when she said it was a glitch than anyone else. He seemed to believe everything she said and Blake recalled walking in on the two of them earlier. Carson claimed she wasn’t holding the chief’s hand, but there was some strange chemistry between them that his inner-beast didn’t like.
Carson was his one true mate.
She just didn’t know it yet.
Blake retrieved the spare clothes he’d stowed in his locker for an emergency such as this and slipped them on. The T-shirt and jeans felt rough against his skin, as they always did when he shifted forms. It was a stark reminder that this wasn’t his natural appearance, and he felt a sudden, acute longing for Jakttera and its seven moons. Blake inhaled deeply, quenching his desire for a planet he could never return to, and headed for Chief Melman’s office. The door was locked, but not in such a way that he couldn’t undo it with a firm slam of his shoulder against the hinges. The sound of the door popping out of its frame echoed through the deserted office floor and Blake concentrated solely on
the resounding silence. He still hadn’t forgiven himself for missing the damn dying jaktten’s heartbeat in Malone’s basement.
After a few seconds, he relaxed and entered the chief’s office. With his enhanced vision he was able to scan the room in a matter of seconds, but didn’t find anything that immediately suggested a hidden safe or security box.
‘Where would Melman keep a damn secret list?’ Blake muttered, as he pushed his long hair out of his eyes with frustration. He was under no illusion that Jonah would give up his secret in a heartbeat if he failed to produce it and he couldn’t risk Carson finding out about him like that. Not when he’d been waiting months for the right moment to explain his situation.
Blake laughed sardonically. The solution to his problem was easy. In theory, all he had to do was confess his lies, reveal his true identity, and then throw himself at Carson’s mercy, but the reality was far from simple. Carson was merciless when it came to liars, murderers, and aliens – and he was all three of those.
Blake stood beside Melman’s desk. The only item of interest was his laptop, so he opened the lid and switched it on. He’d already hacked into most of the files in the central database, but the list could be stored on the chief’s personal hard drive.
‘Shit.’
The laptop was biometrically protected, which meant only Chief Melman’s fingerprint would allow access unless he knew the password. Cracking a password wasn’t impossible, but took hours and Blake didn’t have that much time. He also didn’t have any personal information about the chief to consider typing random date of birth combinations and pet’s names which were an easy password hack. Blake scoured the room for inspiration, but there were no photo frames or personal trinkets to suggest favourite colours, films, or books. The only thing he knew about Melman was that he lived for his unit, like Malone did.
INVASIVE SPECIES
Blake typed the phrase into the password box, but it returned an access denied message.
ISCU
