Jarick: A Sci-Fi Alien Romance (Warriors of Orba Book 2)

by Zara Zenia

  "I thought you had that part of your life sorted."

  "I was seeing a guy for a while," he said as he leaned forward, his eyes glassing over as though his thoughts were taking him far away.

  "It didn't work out."

  He looked as though he'd taken an emotional battering but I didn’t say anything. I’d never been good at these sort of intimate moments with people and somehow I couldn’t get my head around Bradley being a romantic person. I knew he had a boyfriend but he never spoke about him and it was none of my business. I reached out and placed a tentative hand on his back. It felt weird.

  "You know what? I think this is the most we've ever spoken to each other," I laughed. "I mean we've joked and messed about but I think I'm beginning to see the real you for once."

  "Shut up, Dr. Phil," he stood up and pretended to be angry, flinging my hand off him. "Jesus, you sound like my mom."

  It's bravado, I can tell. He was trying to hide his heartache and that was fine. I gave him a sympathetic look and stood up beside him.

  "We better get back to work."

  "Whatever," he said as he nibbled on his thumbnail.

  As we walked back into the building there was a tension between us. Bradley wouldn’t look me in the eye and as we walked down the endless, long hallways, he was ominously silent, his stride fast and purposeful as he walked ahead of me. I didn’t bother trying to catch up, instead choosing to leave him alone since I had so much going through my own mind.

  Reaching my own office, I opened the door and he stopped in his tracks, his shoes sticking to the carpet. He wasn’t moving, just shifting from one foot to the other as though he was desperate to tell me something.

  "What's the matter?"

  He opened his own office door across the hallway and took one look inside before glancing back at me.

  "I can't get that image out of my head. The one of the alien down there beaten within an inch of his life."

  "Me neither."

  "It makes me sick."

  "Me too."

  "Well," he swallowed as though he was trying to fight back tears. "I have a report of my own to write up now and if I don't get it finished on time Gibson's gonna hand me my ass on a plate."

  "Don't worry about him," I tried to reassure him. "He's a little preoccupied right now."

  He nods and purses his lips.

  "Well then, see you at lunch."

  He closed the door softly. I could hear the sound of his office chair squeaking as he slumped down into it. Making my way back to my own room, the caffeine in my veins keeping me in a synthetic form of lucidness, I blinked and rubbed at my eyes, trying my best to stay alert. I had my own work to be getting on with but as I turned on my computer and waited for it to load up, I couldn’t think about anything else but the alien and his injuries. There couldn't have been a reason to beat him so badly. The Trojan Group was supposed to be a research facility, not a place to conduct violent interrogations. It seemed so cruel—so senseless. And Gibson, he was up to something and it involved Johanssen.

  I hadn’t liked that guy from the first moment I saw him. His eyes were icy, his touch even icier. I thought about the way he had been so eager to remove me from the basement. What was he hiding?

  Right now I felt disgusted to be at this company. I'm up here, sitting in my cozy office while somebody else was downstairs getting hurt. I couldn’t get the sight of his bruises out my head and part of me wanted to sneak back in that room and make sure he was ok. I'd take him an ice pack if I could, and some heavy painkillers. I wondered how painkillers would affect an alien's body. Jesus, it was like my mind was running at a hundred miles an hour with a steady, fast cascade of thoughts, all of them frantic.

  As I opened up a new file on my computer and stared at the blank page, I wondered for a moment if I should begin to write my resignation. After all, my childhood dreams of working in astronomy were not based on wanting to cause harm to other beings. It was to learn about them and expand the human consciousness.

  Trying my hardest to continue with my work, my head was still in a perpetual fog—no clear thoughts were being formed through the mist of my garbled daydreams.

  There was something sweet about the alien. With all of the pain he had been through and the way humans had treated him so far, you would think that he'd hate me, lash out and want to hurt me. But all he wanted to do was talk. I'll never forget the way he gazed up at me as I tried to help him, a deep sense of gratitude etched across his face. He shouldn't be down there. Whatever Gibson and Johanssen were doing was wrong and.… I just don't know what to do.

  Reaching into my carry case, I looked for the notepad I'd scribbled in when I had been in the basement. I needed to write yet another report on all the things about the alien's body and his general physiology. But as I rummaged through my things I soon discovered it wasn’t where I left it.

  "Shit," I mumbled, gritting my teeth. "It has to be in here somewhere."

  But it wasn’t. No matter how many times I pulled everything out of the bag and went through all of the pockets, it was nowhere to be found. I must have left it downstairs, or dropped it on the way back up, but that couldn’t have happened. I remembered so clearly placing it back in with all my other things.

  "Oh God, I can't write the report without it."

  I had no choice. I had to go back downstairs and hope that they would let me in again, although that seemed unlikely. Hurrying out my office and making my way down in the elevator, I looked at my reflection once again and saw that I looked even worse than the last time. There were large, purple circles under my eyes and a pimple was beginning to grow on my chin.

  "Urgh…" I shook my head at my own appearance.

  Stepping out onto the basement level, the first thing I heard was a screeching, hideous yelp as though someone was being tortured at the far end of the hallway. It echoed up to me. With my eyes tearing up, I hurried up the corridor but before I was even halfway, the screaming stopped and there was the click of an opening door. I saw Gibson and Johanssen walk out and lurk at the end.

  Ducking quickly into a doorway, I kept an eye on them from a distance. It was mere luck and good fortune that they didn't notice me. I held my breath, and clapped a hand over my mouth in case I made a sound and gave away my position.

  The two men seemed to be muttering something in low voices as though they were plotting something. What were they up to?

  I peeked half of my head around the corner, just enough to see them. They looked different somehow, as though their appearance was changing. God, I really must be sleep deprived. I rubbed at my eyes and looked again. I wasn't imagining it; they really were changing. Their bodies were shifting, moving and merging into something else. It was then that I see who they really were. It was unmistakable; the blue skin and the wide eyes. They were aliens!

  I felt like I was going to faint or be sick. I heaved a little bit, the result of not eating, sleeping and suffering a shock. This couldn't really be happening—none of this could be.

  My heart was beating so fast in my chest that I was almost certain the men can hear it too. Keeping my eye on them, I saw that they were not from Earth and there was something big going on here, something I couldn’t quite comprehend—something evil.

  I felt as though the ground had been knocked out from under me. Gibson, the man I'd worked for all this time was not who I thought he was and neither was the world. Shrinking back in the doorway I thought of the words the alien said, "You need to get out as soon as you can."

  Now it seemed that he was right. This all seemed so dangerous. This was not a safe place for me or the poor alien who was being tortured down here. I had to do something and fast.

  Chapter 8

  Madison

  I was sitting back in my office with my head between my knees. I couldn’t catch a breath. As soon as Gibson and Johanssen had gone back into the room I ran as fast as I could back up here. I was hyperventilating and although I knew that all I needed to do was slow m
y breath, it was impossible and I felt as though my chest was going to explode.

  "Oh God," I crunched up my hands into fists, digging my nails into my palms.

  This was unbearable. I feel as if the life I knew no longer existed. Everything in this building was a lie— everything I’d ever dreamt or worked for.

  Outside, people were leaving their offices on their lunch break. I should have been out there too, joining them down at the vending machines and canteen like a normal person living through a normal work day, but I knew I would never be normal again.

  There was a knock on my door and Bradley entered before listening for an answer. He walked in, arrogant as usual and opened his mouth to speak but stopped when he saw the tears streaming down my face.

  "What's going on now?" he asked, the softness he had earlier showed no signs of resurfacing.

  "I can't explain," I heaved out a big gasp and a sob. "But I'm going to need your help."

  "Ok," he nodded. "Tell me what you need."

  Down in the cafeteria, I watched as Bradley devoured a foot-long BLT, a chocolate fudge cake sitting on his tray beside him. I don't know how he stayed so skinny, youth I guess. I remembered those days, although it wasn't too long ago. Or maybe I was still in my youth. Right now it didn’t feel like it, though.

  "So you need access to the surveillance department?" he confirmed with his cheeks chubby with food.

  "Yeah… You can organize that, can't you?"

  "Well, sure but ... man if Gibson finds out, he'll kill me."

  I thought about our boss and turned back to Bradley. For a moment I wondered if I should tell him about what I saw but I changed my mind, parting my dry lips before closing them again.

  "Don't think about Gibson. This goes far over his head."

  "Really?" he asked with wide eyes and a drop of mayonnaise on his bottom lip.

  I nodded and picked up a napkin, tearing it to pieces before letting the shreds fall in between my legs to the ground like confetti. He noticed my nervous behavior and realized how serious this all was.

  "I've never seen you like this."

  I didn’t say anything. I just looked down at the pieces of napkin on the floor.

  "So you can do it right? Get me in to look at the security cameras?"

  "Hmm…" he hesitated but upon seeing the look in my eyes, the way my hand was shaking and the way my foot was pumping up and down while making a tapping noise against the linoleum floor, he answered at last, "I can certainly try. I think I know the right guy to talk to anyway."

  "Awesome, that's awesome. We should get on it straight away."

  "You should eat first," he pointed a fork at my own abandoned lunch.

  There was a plate of cold lasagna in front of me. It looked sad and repulsive and the last thing I wanted to do right now was eat.

  "I mean," Bradley raised his eyebrows. "You can't live on coffee."

  "I can try," I mumbled as I picked up my fork.

  The third level of the building was a floor I'd never been on before. I don't know why that was. It' s not like I had any particular aversion to it, but rather my business had been located elsewhere. It was peculiar how all the departments at the Trojan Group were identical but each one had its very own persona and atmosphere. I'd like to think mine was clean and calm with a progressive ambiance that made us all work harder. The top floor, where the mysterious high-powered men in suits resided was different, however. It's furnished as though it was a five-star boutique hotel in Manhattan and smelled like musky vanilla mixed with sandalwood and cigars, expensive, masculine and earthen.

  The security department, on the other hand, smelled like energy drinks and sweat. There was a sour tang in the air as though everyone wore the same socks for a week and slept beneath their desks. This was not an outlandish assumption since I've been able to peek inside some of the rooms.

  "His name is Jerry," Bradley blurted out although he hadn’t said a word since lunch.

  "Eh?"

  "The guy. We both graduated Yale at the same time."

  "That's convenient."

  "Sure is. Anyway, I'm pretty sure this is his office."

  He knocked loudly, a little too loudly for my liking. A guy opened the door and grumbled as he yawned. I could see behind him that the lights were off and the only thing illuminating the room was the faint, electric blue glow from the monitors. He looked like little more than a kid. At a first glance I thought he was about sixteen, but then I looked into his eyes. There was a deep yet dark intelligence to them.

  "Bradley?" he screwed up his face in the bright light of the hallway. "Jesus, I haven’t seen you in ages."

  "Kappa Kappa Gamma, bitch!" he flung out his hand and playfully punched him in the gut.

  They both laughed.

  "I heard you were working here," Jerry chuckled, "But man you look so different. You're in a suit and everything. Where's your hair?"

  "Dude, in the research department we're all expected to be smart and stuff."

  "Bummer."

  "Yeah, not like you up here. You get to, like, hide away in your caves and eat chips all day."

  "Pretty much," Jerry smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

  "So anyway!" I interrupted them. "We kinda have a little favor to ask."

  Jerry stared at me as though he had just noticed me for the first time. He looked back up at Bradley then back at me.

  "A favor?" he blinked.

  "Yeah," Bradley sighed. "Just a little one."

  He didn't say any more and Jerry eyed him suspiciously.

  "So, what is it?"

  "We need access to the cameras," I said before I changed my mind.

  "Really? Are you serious?"

  "Please!" I begged. "I am being serious. It's not for anything untoward it's for something we're working on."

  "Then how come your boss hasn't authorized it?"

  "You know Gibson," Bradley grumbled. "He's er … you know, difficult at the best of times."

  "Ah! Captain Impossible! Jesus, everyone knows what he's like. Sure … come in."

  As we walked into the room I was struck by the sheer size of it. There were screens lining every surface of every wall, beaming out at us with a thousand different scenarios that were taking place within the Trojan Group.

  "Jesus! Are you're supposed to watch all of these at the same time!" I gasped.

  "Well … usually, there's another guy with me but he called in sick at the last minute."

  It seemed incredulous that such a large amount of technology was guarded solely by one young guy.

  "Insane," I whispered.

  "So then. What do you need to see?" Jerry sat in his chair and began twiddling knobs at random.

  "I'd like to take a look on the basement level."

  "Sure," he pointed to the screens along the bottom of the wall and zooms in. "There you go."

  I stare at both the guys for a moment.

  "Mind if I have a look on my own?" I ask. "This might take some time and I don't want to bore you."

  "I really shouldn't be leaving you alone in here," Jerry started, biting his nails and scratching at his arm.

  "Just ten minutes," I raised my hands. "If you get caught, you can blame it all on me, I promise."

  He hesitated for a moment, shifting from one foot to the other.

  "Ok," he relented. "Just ten minutes. Bradley and I are gonna grab a snack and be right back."

  "Sure, I'll be done by then."

  Finally, I was alone in the room and I could clearly see the basement level. I had no idea it was so large and extended far back and beyond the room in which the alien was being kept. As I looked over the screens, something caught my eye and I reeled back. It took my breath away. The words at the top of the screen read “Holding Cells.”

  "What the hell?"

  I grabbed the little joystick in front of me and zoomed in. There were almost a dozen cells. They all look like they should belong in a prison, not a research facility. I couldn’t believe w
hat I was seeing and the more I zoomed in, the more I realized something sinister is going on.

  Soon, I notice there was movement in one of the cells. I wouldn't have noticed the little body huddled up beneath the covers if it wasn't for them wriggling as though they couldn't sleep. Zooming in again, I saw the person get up and press a button beside their bed.

  Instantly, two men in suits appeared. They looked annoyed but unflustered and as they opened the door they walked in menacingly, towering over the person as they cowered up against the wall. It was then that I noticed the prisoner was a girl, no older than her late teens. She was tiny and innocent looking with a desperate posture as she flung up her hands. It looked as though she was pleading for something, smacking her hands against the chest of the nearest man.

  I didn’t waste any time. Jumping up and dashing out the door, I left the chair spinning as I ran. In the distance, I could hear Bradley and Jerry's voices but I didn’t stop to tell them where I was going.

  I was back on the basement level once again, this time I knew there was so much more to explore than I first thought. The holding cells, I needed to find them fast. Breaking into a light jog, I hurried down one corridor after another hoping that I wouldn’t be caught. I couldn't even begin to imagine what they'd do to me if they knew I was trespassing but then I thought of something. The notebook. I'll tell them I'm still looking for it, which is not technically a lie.

  Soon, as I reached the very end of the last hallway, I saw a steel door with a window. Through it, I could see the two men in the doorway to the holding cell. Crouching down behind the window, I could finally hear what they were saying.

  "Please! Won't you let me see my brother?" the girl begged as her throat closed up with tears.

  "No," one of the men answered flatly.

  "Please! Will you at least let me know if he's ok."

  They didn’t answer. They shook their heads and walked away. Another two men joined them. They were from our department and I was sure I’d seen them before.

  "Poor girl," one of them said. "But I guess you aliens don't care about her."