Nemesis Alien Hybrid (The Claudia Belle Series Book 5)

by C. S Luis

  Bryce blinked up, “The few samples you sent to my lab left me concerned. It looks quite unstable and, if I may, also—alive.” He looked up, taking a sip of wine.

  She glared over at him, “Alive?” She seemed surprised. “Is that your scientific evaluation?”

  He was solemn but she didn’t seem to be taking him seriously. Something about the samples made him wary. The substance was dark matter, like tar, but it moved at one point when he was doing his examination. And even though it was a tiny sample, he was wary of it. He contained it, worried of it escaping. It moved as if it were alive, stretching tiny arms, reaching out to feel its surroundings. It was some kind of organism; it was alive, but what was it? All he could think was—‘Black like tar,’-- it seemed adaptable. What would it do if introduced to another subject? That worried him.

  “We plan to test it on one of the specimens, see what reactions it’ll have, if any…if there are any similarities to the crystals.”

  “Have you not examined them thoroughly? I’m concerned about their instability. I would be wary, my love. How do you plan to test the subject?” he asked curiously. He was hoping she had taken precautions. He was almost certain that she had, but he felt compelled to ask nonetheless.

  “Of course we’ve examined it. But “alive” is not something we would conclude. Where do you get such a conclusion? The samples I sent were barely samples. Does it matter?” she appeared agitated by the question, and gazed at him, taking another drink of her wine. She was far more confident than even he.

  “Well, I would recommend a closed containment for precaution. As I mentioned, the substance makes me wary. It’s far too unstable. And it seems like a living organism. It might be highly dangerous.”

  Her brow twisted slightly, her dark eyes seemed to ask if he was questioning her scientific observations. They often seemed to compete with one another in regards to science and their findings. Most of the time she challenged him. Perhaps they were more competitive than he realized.

  “How is the wine, sir?” Bryce startled a bit, frowning at the weakness he’d shown to his own memories. The waiter was wearing the feigned interested look they wore, doing their own bit of work for their paycheck. A mask for the work that needed to be done.

  “Yes, it’s excellent. I will take the bottle for the evening.”

  “Very good, sir,” the waiter replied and walked away. Probably savoring the idea of the gratuity he would make just from an expensive bottle of wine, Bryce supposed.

  Bryce glanced down at his watch; Jonas would have Michael in the car by now. The man would be brought before him any moment. He took another sip of the wine, trying not to let the memories intrude again. Who would they all be, if she was still here? No, he couldn’t think like that. There was business to be done.

  They arrived at the quarter hour; Jonas was always on time. Michael walked into the restaurant, looking around. Bryce raised a hand in congenial favor, as men in power often do to those beneath them. A beckoning, all he needed was to whistle and it would be like calling a dog. So far, Michael was proving trainable.

  He stood up when Michael approached the table, reaching out and shaking the other man’s hand.

  “I trust your ride was comfortable.”

  “Your man Jonas took good care of me. You own a very nice car, sir.”

  “Thank you. I’ve taken the liberty of ordering us a bottle of wine. I trust you drink?” Michael nodded and Bryce poured the glass, sliding his fingers along its rim. Michael didn’t see the action. Good, if he needed some persuasion it would not be difficult to add something to the wine.

  “Have you thought more on why I needed to meet with you in person?”

  “I did. I hope that I can help explain any problems you had with my report. Was there anything in particular you needed to know about?” asked Michael.

  He took the offered wine glass with thanks and took a large sip. Bryce examined the other man for a moment; seeing him in the flesh was different than the cameras. He could see the sheen of sweat on his brow and smell the animal nervousness. People were so easy to read at times.

  “I make it an effort to know all principals. We can talk business after the food has arrived. I know we haven’t had the pleasure. We’ve only known each other as colleagues for a brief time. I would hope that we could be friends.”

  Michael’s brow pulled low, but with confusion, not suspicion. “Friends?”

  “Yes, I find it a much more amenable environment for the students if we can all be friendly with each other. It often helps grease the wheels and smooth the way for big ideas or even getting things fixed. I think you show great promise, Michael.” Bryce let the words dangle, seeing if he could catch the man’s ambition, if he had any at all. There was a spark in his eyes. Michael wanted something. Bryce wanted to know what it was.

  “It’s been such an honor to work at Milton, I don’t know anything I would rather be doing.”

  “What makes Milton such a special place?”

  “There is such a great energy between the teachers and the students. We all understand each other, I think. I believe it was you that championed for the school to keep the small classroom sizes?”

  Bryce nodded; easier to find Minders that way.

  “We have some wonderful students that are going to go places as they get older. I can just see it in them already.”

  He genuinely cared about the students under his care. That was an interesting development. Bryce had overseen this sort of work multiple times, more often than not, the ones they found to head Milton had their own agendas. Either this man was genuine, or a very good liar.

  “I see, are there any students in particular that I should know about? I can help with getting scholarships for the exceptional ones and help you with discipline for troublemakers, both students and teachers.”

  Eyes widening, Michael covered his hesitation with another sip of the wine. He was then spared another minute as the waiter arrived with an appetizer salad and honeyed Brie on the side. They each placed their order and the waiter sauntered off. Taking a moment to lift a piece of the bread and cheese, Bryce waited for Michael’s response. Silence could work wonders on someone as agitated as the principal of Milton. He took a bite of his food, chewing deliberately.

  “I... I would have to check with the students to see if they are comfortable with something like that. Many of them are very suspicious of adult influences, even the brilliant ones. We’ve made good progress and I don’t want to cause any problems by adding in someone they don’t know.”

  “You have an adopted daughter, correct?”

  Sure, he’d gotten off the subject. But he was curious after seeing her image on the camera. Especially knowing of John’s interest in her. He had only seen her up close a few times. Each time had made him far more curious than the last.

  “Yes,” Michael stared curiously back at him. Probably questioning why he suddenly asked such an odd question in regards to her.

  “She attends Milton as well?” He knew it sounded more like an interrogation. Bryce saw that clearly written upon Michael’s brow. But he didn’t give Michael time to answer. “Does she show any promise? Perhaps I could put in a good word. I can do that for a colleague. I realize she’s graduating, has she taken interest in anything?” Bryce grinned, Michael appeared to shift in his seat. Had he struck an uneasy wrinkle?

  “She’s still undecided, sir,” Michael replied, drinking from his glass and shifting in his seat once more.

  “Ah, I see. Well, I’ll keep her in mind when she decides.”

  Michael nodded.

  “Now what can you tell me generally in regard to what has been going on at your school, beyond the obvious disaster?” Bryce asked, moving on. “Your report was thorough. I am interested to know if there was anything leading up to the incident that seemed out of the ordinary or anything since.”

  Michael opened his mouth but caught himself on the brink of forming a word.

  “Don’t worry,
we’ll be keeping this conversation quiet. Wouldn’t want the district getting involved. If you think I’m a bureaucrat, wait until you meet them.” Bryce smiled at him and Michael gave a small smile back. He looked like a mouse hoping that the house cat was declawed. Little did Michael know that this cat just liked to play with his food.

  “I suppose there have been a few strange things. I’m not really sure how to explain them.”

  “Give it a try.”

  “I...” he paused, jumping slightly as he reached for the phone that had gone off in his pants’ pocket. He reached and lifted it up, looking at the screen. His eyebrows went up. “Excuse me, I have to take this call.”

  He left, walking towards the front of the restaurant. Bryce frowned, that wasn’t a cell phone he recognized. It wasn’t the one he had bugged. He watched Michael’s back as he spoke, the way he shifted his weight and put a hand on the back of his neck. He was going to try and leave. Whoever was calling him wanted him to leave the dinner.

  “I hope nothing is wrong,” Bryce asked when Michael returned.

  “I’m afraid there is a problem back home. A water line broke or something, that was my landlady.” He began to gather his things.

  He had no landlady, Bryce glared over at him. “I understand. We’ll talk later.” Bryce said, shrugging. Inside, he raged. Who had been on the other end of that line? As Michael walked away, he sent a message to Jonas, who joined him a moment later, just as the food arrived.

  “What can I do for you?” Jonas asked, digging into Michael’s food.

  “We need a change of tactic. I have a task for you.”

  “The cameras in the interior office, do they have recording capabilities?” Bryce asked.

  “I’m afraid not, sir,” Jonas answered looking up from his meal. “The cameras were damaged, something about an energy surge disrupted them briefly and now they fail to work properly. We’re lucky they work at all,” he added, drinking from the glass of water untouched by Michael.

  “I see.” Bryce frowned. He’d hoped to see what had taken place a few hours earlier before he turned the cameras on in Michael’s office. But now it was not possible.

  “Should I follow him? Bug him?” Jonas asked.

  Bryce thought of what he planned to do. He sank deep into his mind and thoughts of his wife came again; she was seated in the same place Jonas now sat, their conversation quite different than what he thought now. She was reluctant about concerns in regards to the substance. He warned her. But she thought he was overreacting in his concerns.

  “No need. Just keep an eye on him for now, until John Slater returns,” Bryce finally answered.

  “John Slater? I thought he was looking for the Minder and Jack Sanders. Something wrong, sir?”

  Bryce drank from his glass again. The wine was bitter but rewarding; something that reminded him of her whenever he drank it. He loved it as much as he hated the reminder.

  “I plan to bring John Slater back from the assignment far earlier than I anticipated. I sense they’re hiding something. John Slater will give me what I want. Or I will destroy this little group of his; this group he’s so fond of and close to.”

  He had sensed Michael was holding back; the man wasn’t hard to read, it wasn’t even fair. He was a timid rabbit hiding from the fox who had already cornered him in a hole.

  Jonas had nothing to add as he ate and drank, he did what he was told and merely nodded.

  “What about Jack Sanders, sir?” Jonas glanced up, wrinkling his brow.

  * * *

  “Jack will come. Jack feels compelled to help John, just as John feels compelled to protect Jack. I doubt John will defy me to protect these people, yet he may for the girl. And that’s why I know he will give me what I want or whatever it is they’re hiding from me.”

  Jonas looked up as he drank from the glass of water. “Is John Slater becoming a liability, sir?” he asked.

  “Because of the girl?”

  “I’m not sure what has confused him,” Bryce admitted. “But if it is this girl. Then she’s far more of a threat to me than I first considered.”

  “Soll ich mich um das Mädchen kummern?” Jonas offered.

  Bryce glanced over at him; he’d consider such an offer. Dealing with the girl that was a thorn in his side. The girl that had turned John away from his task. He wondered though, intrigued as to how a Hunter such as John could be swayed to disobey him so easily? How was she able to control John Slater? Even if the girl was, like most women, something of interest to John Slater. She was just that, a girl. Could it be mere sexual desire from John Slater’s part overpowering him? If so, then he wanted to observe, take notes as to his behavior around her. Was John showing more human traits? Weakness? Or an alien defect?

  “Nein, ich kummere mich selbst um sie.” Jonas glanced over at him. He knew that when the boss said that it was far worse.

  “For now keep an eye on Dr. McClellan, and his lovely adopted daughter,” Bryce said. He drank from his glass, the smooth texture of the wine was rich a reward to his palate. “Let us see what progress, if any, our Hunter John Slater has made. I plan to find out what secrets lurk within Milton.”

  “You think John Slater knows something, sir?”

  “Most definitely. He knows far more than he is revealing, I’m certain of that. And he will reveal it to me.”

  “How do you plan to make him talk, sir?”

  Bryce gleamed. John Slater had already revealed far more weaknesses. One most certainly being this Claudia Belle.

  “I will give him what he wants.”

  Jonas nodded, and continued eating.

  9

  Shadow Man

  I could still hear their shrieking. It made me furious and happy all at once. They deserved it, after all, Rachel and the others. I had been preparing to fight, thinking of all the different ways I could push them away. When the pipe snapped, they acted like acid fell on them, by the noise they made. The starched uniforms they wore turned limp, possibly ruined from the water. Served them right. Rachel and her minions had no right to bully me. It wasn’t my fault! None of it was my fault! I couldn’t help that strange things happened to me.

  Or that I could hear voices. Or any of the rest of it. Grandfather had to be wrong. Rachel had to be wrong.

  I opened my eyes and sat up on the bed. I realized I had fallen asleep and was still in my clothes. I hadn’t realized I was so tired. After we left Milton, we picked up a pizza, and Mr. Claypool brought me home. I had a few slices of it and decided to head to my room. I said my goodnights to Mr. Claypool, who then parked himself in our living room to wait for Michael.

  I sat there thinking of dressing for bed. And suddenly I felt paralyzed and afraid; I couldn’t move. When I was able to finally shift, I curled up into a ball, pulling my legs up from the side of the bed and sat trembling, looking into my room as if it was a foreign space. A chorus of voices now hissed all around me. The shadows in my bedroom seemed like furious figures moving and dashing from every corner of the room.

  I heard the beat of my own heart hitting the very core of my head, then I saw a tall, shadowy figure at the corner of the room. I pulled back on the bed; the shadow seemed to be growing taller and taller, until it was in the center of the ceiling above, coming over me upon the bed.

  “Claudia…” it hissed. “Claudia…come with me.” Black tentacle arms reached out from the ceiling and suddenly came over me, swallowing me whole.

  “My pet run, run –he’s coming!”

  I opened my eyes, pulling the sheets off my head, and sat up against the side of my bed holding myself. I looked into the room; my heart was racing. The dream, if it was a dream, was far more real to me. I wanted to scream but the sound was stuck in my throat. I couldn’t speak, not even to call Mr. Claypool. I knew he was downstairs. I needed him to come. I needed to run, but I was frozen.

  “Michael,” I uttered under my breath. I looked to the side of the table near my bed. My phone sat within reach; I grabbed fo
r it and pulled the blanket over my head, and began to dial his number.

  He answered on the third ring.

  “Michael, I need you, please come home!” I didn’t even give him a chance to answer. “Please, I’m scared!” I trembled. I heard him excuse himself to someone at the other end. “Michael, please!”

  “Where’s Mr. Claypool?” he asked, but I didn’t answer his question.

  “Please Michael, I’m scared!”

  “I’m on my way,” he said at once. The phone in my hand went dead before we could hang up, and began to buzz. I dropped it, startled, as shrieking and static filled the other end. The screen blinked oddly then flickered repeatedly, the apps began to move randomly and the speaker lit up, and now a distorted voice began to speak through the phone.

  “He’s coming…my pet, you must let me return, you must trust me… you must let me protect you…I’m the only one that can stop him…”

  I sat there for a moment under the sheets, the phone kept flickering and switching apps, blinking, static kept it alive, distorted noises that sounded like various voices continued to speak then it just stopped and fell quiet.

  I exhaled, relieved, staring at the phone like it would leap out at me. For a moment, all I could hear was my own breathing and the silence in the room. I pulled the sheets off my head and at once was confronted by a shadowy form standing by the side of my bed. He pointed a finger at me; I froze. Suddenly, a shrieking cry flowed from the phone. I grabbed my head, trying to shield my ears from the horrid screams until I felt limp and dropped on my bed.

  I immediately sat up. Mr. Claypool and Michael were by the side of the bed. Michael came over and sat beside me. He motioned me to lay back down. I couldn’t; I was shaking, looking all around the room for whatever had come in and stood at the side of my bed. I thought I saw things I didn’t want to see, recalling it standing over me, remembering it stretching its long, tentacle arms overhead and coming over me on the bed.