He chose a cluster of mine dumps, the dilapidated state of the buildings indicating it was deserted, the gold depleted. When he saw no movement on the ground, he set the helicopter down between two dumps the size of small mountains. To win time, he’d have to conceal the helicopter. After glancing around, he pulled a ripped plastic shade awning from the side of one of the buildings and covered the craft. The entrance to the mine was sealed, but he easily kicked it down. Taking shelter in the dusty tunnel, he started to work.
Escape had a sweet taste, but the bitterness of Ilse’s betrayal wouldn’t leave his mouth or heart. She was with Frik. The thought of her being that bastard human’s mate was too much to handle. The sight of the agent’s hands on her had torn him up inside. It was like a thousand knives slicing through his insides, a million times worse than all the electric shocks he’d endured at Ilse’s lover’s hands. To add to the insult, she’d covered up Drako’s marks on her neck. The sight of that cloth hiding his claim had chaffed his gut. It was as if she was ashamed of them. He’d trusted her, but she was no different to her government men who’d captured him.
Something Pete had said yesterday had stuck in his mind. In the commotion that had followed after Drako had bitten Ilse, he hadn’t registered it immediately, but his subconscious had known it was important enough to store in his memory. Pete had said he’d checked her file before hiring her. Then there was her expression when her hand had gripped his shaft right before she’d made him come, almost as if it was painful for her.
One by one, the puzzle pieces came together. Now it all made sense. Ilse had been hired to seduce him and steal his sperm, to deceive him in the worst possible way while toying not only with his manhood, but also with his heart. She’d teased him and tortured him with foreplay that hinted at so much more and left him with empty, unspoken promises and a hollow, aching need. He’d thought her kind. Gentle. Pure. She wasn’t a nurse. She was an actress. A damn good one if she was able to mask her lies so well they smelled sweet, enticing. Addictive.
He simmered as he lifted the nano-healer from its protective cover and activated it before dragging the device over his wounds. He wouldn’t forgive her easily. No, never. Forgetting her would be impossible. Her betrayal would forever torture his mind, but not as badly as her absence would torment his body. Bristling with renewed anger as the nano-healer did its work and the skin on his shoulder, hip, and shin closed up, the foreign bacteria dying, he took a vow in the depths of the golden sand of a place called Johannesburg on Earth. His escape from Earth might be pending, but he’d come back for her, and when he found her, he was going to finish what she’d started.
Ilse ran down the stairs and out of the building. In her blind rush she tripped on the step down from the pavement into the road. Arms flailing, she righted her balance before hitting the tar and ran as fast as her legs could carry her without looking back. Damn. She should’ve had the foresight to steal Frik’s car keys or least have learned how to hotwire an engine.
The noise of a helicopter pierced the air. She squinted up. The black SS craft lifted off the rooftop and dipped behind the old Absa Tower before disappearing from view. If the agents were airborne, their chances of spotting her were too good. She doubled her efforts, pumping her arms and putting an extra stretch in her legs until her lungs burned so much she thought they’d collapse. She sprinted toward Newtown with nothing but her keys and credit card in her pockets, praying to God she wouldn’t be attacked by a thug on the way. It was only two kilometers, but a sharp pain stabbed in her side when she crossed over the old train tracks to what used to be the fresh food market, now converted into a theatre and glitzy tourist restaurant.
Heads turned as she neared the safe parking, but no one tried to stop her. She almost fell into her car, pulling off with screeching tires, but not yet feeling relief. She couldn’t go home or back to the hospital, at least not for a while. Not only would Pete and his agents be looking for her the minute they woke and realized her deceit, but she might also have a vengeful extraterrestrial chasing her. She shivered as she recalled Drako’s last words.
This isn’t over.
Shaking the nagging fear, she concentrated on her breathing. If she was to survive, she had to be strong. This was her life, now, the choices she’d made. It would be tough, but at least she’d be able to live with herself. As she drove farther away from the horrid building with the broken windows, a dull ache set into her chest when she thought about Drako. On cue, the marks in her neck started to throb. Uninvited tears burned behind her eyes, but she blinked them away. Freedom was in sight. Before disappearing, she had a stop to make. She turned up the music to boost her spirits and took the highway to Alexandra.
She followed the GPS up to where the roads had been mapped, but after that the informal settlement was a maze of unrecorded streets. She had to stop three times to ask for directions. After getting lost twice, she pulled up at a makeshift shelter that existed of a few corrugated iron sheets.
Mosa came outside to greet her. “I never thought you’d come.”
Ilse took the medicine from her bag and handed it over. “Here you go.”
“Thank you.” The woman’s weathered face pulled into a smile.
“You’re most welcome.”
“Will there be stock next month?”
“It’s hard to say.” She thought for a moment. “If you have any problems getting hold of the medicine, call me.” She scribbled down her new number on an old grocery receipt and handed it over. “Here’s my number.”
Mosa took her arm and pulled her toward the shack. “You must stay for dinner.”
“You’re very kind, but I have to get going.”
“I’m not sending you away on an empty stomach. Come inside.”
Not wanting to be rude, Ilse allowed Mosa to escort her into the one-room dwelling. The ground floor was covered with cardboard. A pot simmered on a portable gas stove. In one corner stood a box that served as a table. Another held crockery and cooking utensils. A mattress was pushed up against the wall. Ilse’s heart contracted at the poverty she witnessed. The bus and taxi fare to get to the hospital alone would cost half of the measly monthly pension the government paid.
Mosa dished up a bowl of soup and invited Ilse to sit down on an upturned beer case while she took the mattress. While they ate, Ilse asked about her family, and learned that the woman was a widow with four grown children who all worked in far-off towns. The last time she’d seen one of them had been over ten years.
After thanking her for the meal, Ilse took the money she had on her from her bag. “Please, you must take this.”
Mosa pressed a hand on her heart. “Oh, no. You’ve already been much too kind.”
“Please, I insist. I don’t need it,” she lied.
The woman reached for it hesitantly. “May God bless you.”
She gave a nervous laugh. “I needed that blessing. It’s getting late. I better go.”
As she exited the shack, a hand folded around her wrist. She jumped with a start. A man dressed in a fitted shirt and fancy slacks looked her up and down.
“Who’s this, Ouma?” he asked Mosa.
“A friend. Let her go.”
The man didn’t oblige. “What is she doing here?”
“She brought medicine. Now, let her go.”
The man’s eyes burned into hers. “Is it true?”
“Yes,” Ilse said, swallowing.
His expression was skeptical. “Why?”
“The hospital was out of stock,” Mosa said. “She’s a nurse.”
He narrowed his eyes. “And now there’s stock?”
“Yes,” Ilse lied.
One by one, he released his fingers. “All right.” He nodded in agreement, but his small, knowing smile said he didn’t believe her.
Mosa took her arm. “Don’t mind Samuel. He’s nothing but a small-time crook. All bark and no bite. I’d like to pay you for the medicine.”
“Oh, no. That’s not necessa
ry.”
“It’s not the first time the hospital didn’t have stock. I know how it works. You didn’t get the pills from the hospital. You must’ve acquired the medicine elsewhere where it doesn’t come free, or cheap, for that matter.”
“You have your treatment. That’s all that matters.”
“Are you sure there’s nothing I can give you in return? I don’t have much money, but I can clean or cook.”
Ilse squeezed Mosa’s hand. “You’re sweet, but I don’t need anything.”
“If there’s ever something I can do for you, just say the word.”
She shook Mosa’s hand in greeting. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Mosa saw her to her car and waved as she pulled off. Ilse watched the small, stooped-shouldered woman standing in front of a shack in her rearview mirror. There had to be more she could do for her and the countless others like her. A good start would be putting an end to the medicine smuggling and exposing the black market dealers. Maybe she could leak the information anonymously to the media. If the police were too corrupt to get involved, an international media scandal would force them to take action, unless they wanted to be exposed for their role in the crime.
Feeling slightly better after her decision, she drove to a hotel in Randburg and rented a room under a false name. She fell down on the bed, exhausted, and slept nine hours straight.
The sun was high when she finally woke from an empty stomach. She snacked on some of the supplies she’d packed, and then took care of her hair, dying it black before cutting it off just under her chin. The cut was a bit choppy, but it would do.
She stepped back to inspect her image in the mirror. She looked very different. If she could avoid using her identity card, no one would know who she was. Her money wouldn’t last forever. She’d have to find odd jobs and keep on the move, not staying in one place for too long. In her current state of exhaustion, the idea alone was tiring. Maybe, one day, the dust would settle, and she could grow roots in an obscure little town where no one would ask questions about her past. Surely, Pete and Frik would eventually stop looking for her. They’d sweep all the evidence of their unorthodox experiment under the carpet, and no one would ever speak of it. Her beautiful alien would’ve gotten to his pod, healed his injuries, and found a way home. He’d look back on his experience with anger, but eventually his bad memories would fade until vengeance dwindled from a distant notion to forgotten. She’d carry on with her life, and all would be well. Yes, that was the hope she had to hold onto.
Despite having eaten, her lethargy wouldn’t let her go. It was the after-effect of the stress and shock. What she needed was a warm drink and a few more hours of rest. She brewed a cup of tea from the complimentary hotel supply, switched on the television, and settled on the bed. Mindless channel hopping was a great way of relaxing. Maybe she’d catch up with an episode or two of her favorite series. It always made her forget about reality for a couple of hours. She was flicking through the channels, moving quickly through the news ones, when a familiar face caused her to pause. It couldn’t be. She stared at her face, splayed on the screen, in shock. Depositing the teacup on the nightstand, she turned up the volume and sat up straight.
“A police investigation confirmed a nurse at the Johannesburg General Hospital to be responsible for the theft of over a billion rand’s worth of medicine,” the reporter said. “The disappearance of prescription drugs from government institutions is one of the country’s biggest and most costly obstacles in providing health care. Thousands of state patients suffer annually due to the unavailability of medicinal drugs. Nurse Ilse Gouws is said to run a black market operation in Johannesburg, with possible ties to others in Cape Town, Durban, and Bloemfontein.” The camera zoomed in on a photo of her in her nurse’s uniform that had been taken during the inauguration of the new children’s wing. “Police are offering a reward of five thousand rand to anyone with information about her whereabouts that will lead to her arrest. Nurse Gouws is Caucasian, one meter fifty-six, with blue eyes and blonde hair. The suspect is dangerous and should not be approached. Citizens with information should call Special Agent Pete Evans.” A contact number for Pete ran over the bottom of the screen. “Nurse Gouws has last been seen in the vicinity of Newtown.”
She sank back against the headboard in a haze, her hands shaking so badly she battled to press the off-button on the remote. This was bad. No, this was infinitely worse than any outcome she could’ve ever imagined. She’d been framed. The whole country was on the lookout for her. Pete would’ve been to the hospital to pose questions. Dear God. Was Caitlin all right? Would they have harassed her? Would they have believed her if she said she didn’t know where Ilse was? Everyone at the hospital knew she and Caitlin were friends. She jumped from the bed, chewing her nail.
Please, please don’t let anything happen to Caitlin.
Sick with worry and tension, she stared at the phone on the bureau. Calling was risky, but she had to know. After another second’s hesitation, her concern for her friend won over her fear for herself. Her insides twisting together, she dialed Caitlin’s mobile number.
“Yes?” Caitlin answered in her usual, brusque manner, which indicated it was a busy shift.
“Hi,” she said softly, not sure how to explain without endangering Caitlin’s life. “It’s me.”
She didn’t dare say her name. Caitlin would recognize her voice.
“Hi, Mom,” Caitlin replied in a too-loud voice. “You caught me at a bad time. I’m really busy. I’ll call you back tonight, okay?”
Shit. The agents were screening her calls or they’d tapped her phone.
“Okay,” she said, the word a mere whisper.
The concern in Caitlin’s voice was palpable. “Take care, all right?” She hung up without waiting for Ilse’s greeting.
Ilse replaced the phone on the rest with trembling fingers. She had to leave. Now. The receptionist could’ve seen the broadcast and remembered she’d checked in. Others had seen her in the elevator as she’d made her way to her room. She threw her bag on the bed and dumped her clothes inside. She rushed through the room like a mad person, grabbing toiletries from the bathroom and yanking her jacket from the closet. Zipping the bag closed, she considered her options, of which she seemed to have less and less. For the life of her, she couldn’t think up a plan. Where could she go? Where could she hide? She needed to lose the car. The cops would be searching for her number plates.
With her heart beating so loud it was painful to breathe, she opened the door and looked down the corridor. Empty. Aware of the security cameras, she slipped down the hallway, opting for the stairs that led to the parking. She dumped her bag in the trunk and left the hotel with no idea of where she was going.
10
The serving counter rotated with a selection of Drako’s favorite dishes, but it wasn’t the food that held his attention. It was the image of the blonde Earthling with the blue eyes in the hologram. The picture was so life-like it inspired both longing and wrath. Since the ship sent from Krina had rescued him, he couldn’t think about anything––or rather, anyone––else. He couldn’t eat or sleep. Like a cruel joke, her intoxicating attributes had stuck in his mind to haunt his senses. He could still smell her skin and taste her on his tongue. Every time he closed his eyes, he felt the way her soft body had molded around his. He could only obsess about the human female and how to get her back, which was why he’d called this meeting straight after he’d gone through a medical check-up and the debriefing of his crash.
“Hence,” Altair, the commander in charge of the Krinar’s displacement, continued, “you wouldn’t advocate cohabitation with humans.”
He spared another glance at the hologram, the picture making his chest ache. “I’d say peaceful coexistence is highly unlikely, but it requires further investigation.”
Kahvissar, one of the highest-ranking diplomats in the Krina galaxy, turned to him. “The Elders have a high regard of your opinion. It will weigh heavy in
their decision.”
“He’s still very young,” Altair argued, “and the wisdom required in such a decision only comes with age.”
“The decision isn’t mine to make. Whether we allow the humans to exist or not is up to the Elders,” Drako argued.
“You will vote against allowing them to live?” Altair queried.
“Yes,” he said with hard determination. “My experience may have been brief, but from what I’ve seen, human nature is frivolous, deceitful, greedy, dishonest, and they possess no self-pride.”
“Yet, you plead for this female’s life,” Kahvissar said, studying the hologram with a finger pressed to his lips.
“Yes.” The word sounded harsh.
Kahvissar uttered a soft laugh. “Your female seems to be even more flawed than the crimes you’ve accounted to her.” He swiped through the hologram images to the broadcast declaring her a black market medicine dealer.
Drako swallowed hard. He couldn’t deny the accusation made sense. How else would she have gotten hold of medicine like antibiotics that weren’t available from over the counter? The statistics were shocking. Billions of rands’ worth of medicine was stolen each year. Only more proof of how unworthy these humans were of the Krinar’s aid. His human. No matter what she’d done, he’d claimed her the minute he’d sunk his teeth into her skin. Who was he kidding? He’d claimed her the moment he’d gotten a whiff of her smell, even before he’d laid eyes on her.
“I understand your need for revenge,” Altair said, “but it’s not an honorable or valid reason to abduct an Earthling. Let her own kind deal with her. They’ll catch up with her sooner or later.”
His hackles rose. No one was going to deal with her but him. “It’s not about revenge,” he said. “I bit her. I drank her blood. She’s in my veins.” Suddenly tired, he sank back on his plank. “Literally.”
The Krinar Experiment Page 8
