The Alien Who Fell to Earth

by Fiona Roarke

  In the photo, he was dressed in his RMG uniform, body tilted in such a way that one shoulder was further away from the camera than the other. His face was turned to one side, looking into the lens with a killer smile that could make angels weep. Whew, doggies. He was gorgeous. She closed her eyes and opened them again to see if she felt the same way.

  Yep. Still a hottie. The second thing she checked was marital status, hoping there wasn’t a Mrs. Hottie waiting for his return to Alpha-Prime.

  A breath of relief came out when she read he was indeed single and her heartbeat sped up for some unfathomable reason. She should calm down. This wasn’t a date. He probably had a whole hoard of women chasing him down. If she lived on Alpha-Prime, she might join in the hunt. But she didn’t. Victoria was an Earther and she liked living here on the Earth colony.

  Besides, she was here to rescue him, ensure any information about his Alpha status hadn’t been discovered and escort him to the rendezvous for transport to Alienn and then back to Alpha-Prime.

  Victoria was a professional. She was on a mission. She cleared her throat, breathed in and out slowly to tame her heart to beat at a normal speed and tried to take a more analytical approach.

  Yes. She had to pretend to be his wife. She decided they’d been married for three years and were as desperately in love with each other as if they were newlyweds.

  She found the name of the first place he’d been posted after RMG graduation—Greater Basin City on Alpha-Prime—and made that the name of their fake hometown on Earth, way out west instead of in Arkansas.

  No need to let anyone know where they were really headed after leaving Nocturne Falls.

  She scrolled through the entire file, committing some dates and information to memory, scripting a story around what she learned and adding herself in as his wife so she could visit him. Knowing some things about him would help assure him she was there as an Alienn, Arkansas mission retrieval specialist to help him get out of the hospital and back to where he was supposed to be as soon as possible.

  Victoria spent the final thirty minutes of the countdown to visiting hours mentally rehearsing the concocted story. There were a few highlights from his past before he knew her, their cute meet story in the mythical town of Greater Basin City, and she finished it out with a couple of fun tales about their amazing, wonderful life together out west.

  She walked up to the entrance and peeked through the glass doors before entering to see if the same person was at the counter checking people in. Victoria hoped no one would remember she’d been in line earlier. It would definitely look suspicious. As a precaution, she took her black uniform jacket off and tucked it inside her backpack, leaving her in a red sleeveless shirt tucked into black pants. She planned to appear urgent, desperate. She planned to jog from the parking lot to the desk and pretend she was frantic to find her missing husband.

  She was about to break into a jog—speech all ready to recite to the hospital staff—urgently seeking her handsome, make-believe husband. But before she took her first step, a sheriff’s vehicle pulled up and parked near the door she was about to enter.

  Victoria held back and hoped this wasn’t the same sheriff who’d tangled with Stella, although there wouldn’t be more than one sheriff in a town. Would there?

  Each of the two neighboring towns closest to Alienn, Arkansas only had one sheriff. Wyatt Campbell was the earthling sheriff in Skeeter Bite and Hunter Valero, also an earthling, was the sheriff in Old Coot. They had a few deputies, but they were the singular law at the top of the food chain in their respective towns. Alienn had a Fearless Leader and Cam was their primary security man, but neither were a sheriff. Was that important? No.

  Victoria watched as Nocturne Falls’s sheriff headed inside the hospital. Should she go on in and put on her performance of worried, desperate housewife seeking a missing husband or wait until the sheriff left? Should I stay or should I go?

  A terrible thought occurred to her.

  What if the sheriff was in there looking into the injured man without a memory? What if he was here to make an official report?

  Victoria paused, silently dancing back and forth on the balls of her feet, weighing how well her performance would have to be in order to convince the sheriff. Would he ask questions she couldn’t answer? Would he be more attuned to their kind because of what had happened with Stella earlier?

  Spuds.

  Chapter Three

  <^> <^> <^>

  The man woke up, sniffed the air and smelled antiseptic. Was he still in that supply closet in the bar? He cracked his eyes open and saw he was in a proper bed, not on the thin mattress of the small bed that seemingly sported spikes that poked him while he slept. He opened his eyes all the way and searched the room. A nightstand, a sturdy metal chair in the corner, but the space was surrounded by a curtain. The room looked clean, orderly, but not familiar at all.

  To his right beyond the curtain, someone coughed and cleared their throat. Low whispering ensued. Who else was here? Why was someone else in his room? Was this a hospital? He tried to remember how he got here. The bartender named Bridget and the rear-door not-a-werewolf bouncer Kevin came immediately to mind along with Bridget’s being a wolf shifter disclosure along with you better not be my mate because I really like Sam thoughts.

  He didn’t know much, but was fairly certain he didn’t know how to change into a wolf.

  Moving on from his lack of canine shifting abilities, he assessed his injuries and decided he felt much improved. The headache, while there, was not as dire. He could think better. He could flex all his muscles and he did so beneath the single white sheet.

  The edge of the curtain was pulled back with a single short yank, garnering his attention. A woman dressed all in white approached the bed. She was a big woman, tall and stout with short red hair and a no-nonsense look in her eyes and demeanor. She looked up from the flat electronic device she held in one hand.

  “You’re awake,” she said, sounding surprised.

  “Yes. I just woke up. Maybe you can tell me where I am.”

  “Nocturne Falls General Hospital.”

  “Are you my doctor?”

  “No. I’m your nurse. My name is Hilda.”

  “Hello, Hilda. I wish I could tell you my name, but I don’t seem to remember it.”

  She smiled, nodded once and consulted her digital device, but didn’t say anything else.

  “What’s my diagnosis?” he asked after several silent moments.

  “You’ll live,” she said in a flash. He liked Hilda.

  “Excellent.” He pushed the sheet to his waist, planning to get up and leave.

  “Wait.” She moved faster than he would have expected to pull the sheet up to his chest. “You can’t go. You have a head injury.”

  “But I’ll live,” he said, repeating what she’d said, and pushed the sheet to his waist.

  “You have a concussion. You must stay here a while longer.” The sheet went back up.

  “I feel like I need to get going for some reason.” That was the truth. He had a nameless, urgent feeling growing inside. He couldn’t remember his name or where he came from or his occupation or anything about himself.

  But the feeling growing stronger with each moment that passed gnawed at him with an urgency to…leave. He needed to go…somewhere. He needed to do…something, and it was important, this unknown, vital something.

  “Where? Where are you going to go when you barely even know where you are?” Nurse Hilda pulled the sheet up and tucked it under his sides at chest level.

  He gave up the battle of the lowered sheet for now. “Not sure. I just have this pressing feeling like I’ve forgotten something very important and it’s eating at me.”

  “Like your name.”

  He ducked his head. “For starters, yes.”

  “And where you’re from.”

  “Also on the list of forgotten things.”

  “Do you remember what happened to you? Were you hit by a car, o
r involved in an accident?”

  “No idea at all.” He shrugged. The memory of unbuckling himself from a seat shot into his mind. Had he been in a vehicle? Unlikely. He’d fallen to the ground, landing on soft grass and wet leaves. A forest? How did he get a vehicle into the forest? Had his vehicle been hanging upside down in a tree? Really unlikely.

  The more he tried to remember, the more his head throbbed, unwilling to give him the answers he sought. However, the antsy, aggravating urgency continued. His right foot started tapping the air beneath the sheet to expend the extra energy building in his limbs.

  She looked at her digital device. “When you got here, you were pretty banged up, but I see you’re healing up nicely.”

  “Good. I’m sure I’ll be fine in no time.”

  “Yes. I’m sure you will. But a concussion is nothing to take lightly.”

  “But I feel so much better than before.” He wanted to leave. The moment she was gone he’d be out of this bed and on his way.

  “I’m so glad to hear it. However, the doctor will be here shortly to discuss your overall condition.”

  He eyed the window as a possible means of escape.

  Hilda huffed when she saw him. “Are you going to be a difficult patient?”

  He turned away from the window. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s in my nature to be difficult.” He grinned at her.

  Hilda cracked another small smile and turned to leave. She stopped, turned back and added, “Please, at least stay until the doctor gets here to talk to you. Okay?”

  He rolled his eyes like it was an affront to his nature, but finally nodded. “Fine, Nurse Hilda. I’ll wait to talk to the doctor before I make my great escape.”

  “Thank you, JD.”

  “Who’s JD?”

  “That’s what we’ve all been calling you, since we don’t have your name.”

  “Why JD? Does it mean something, like jelly donut? Because that sounds really good right now.”

  Hilda laughed, sounding genuinely amused. “No. Not jelly donut. JD in this case stands for John Doe, the standard name given to men who can’t remember their name.”

  “John Doe? JD? Hmm. Interesting.” He pondered that for a moment. It didn’t feel like his name or even close to his name, but he had to be called something. “I guess it’s better than, Hey-You-Over-There.”

  “Yes. And in my opinion it’s also better than juvenile delinquent, which might also apply.” She eyed the window and gave him another rather stern look.

  He shook his head in defeat. She smiled once more, snapping the curtain shut on her way out.

  He planned to wait for a bit, but if the doctor didn’t show up soon, the urgency was going to win and he’d be out of here, pronto.

  The curtain opened again, quietly, rather than with a snap. Instead of Hilda, a beautiful woman wearing a red sleeveless shirt and black pants darted into his room. Silently, she closed the curtain as she stepped through. Awesome. Okay, now her he’d stay here for.

  Her he’d definitely want to be wolf-mated to for a lifetime.

  She turned, saw him staring at her and grinned like they shared a secret. He would share absolutely anything with her.

  “Who are you?” he asked, returning her grin. He couldn’t help it. His nervous foot even stopped tapping the air beneath his sheet.

  “I’m Victoria. I’m your wife.” And then she winked.

  His wife? He had a wife? This gorgeous woman, Victoria, was his wife? Her height being average was the only ordinary thing about her. She had sultry gray eyes, a pale complexion and rosy lips he couldn’t wait to kiss. Her long dark hair was very straight and parted down the middle, hanging well past her shoulders. Excellent. He may not know his name, but he did know that he loved his wife’s dark locks. He wanted to touch and stroke her shiny tresses to see if they were as soft and silky as they looked.

  He had so many questions for…his wife. That word tasted odd on his tongue, even more so than mate, but she was so gorgeous he didn’t care. Having a wife hadn’t even occurred to him. Did they have children? Were they happy? Of course they were. He wouldn’t let Mrs. JD be unhappy.

  There was a commotion beyond the curtain and Victoria moved quickly to the far side of his bed between him and the window he’d thought about escaping through.

  “I’m sorry, Doctor, but I need to speak to this man immediately,” a gruff, angry voice said.

  Victoria leaned closer, gifting him with a rush of her scent right into his face. She smelled delicious.

  “Sheriff, I can’t let you question this patient yet. He’s got a concussion. I haven’t even spoken to him.” The curtain ripped open and two men stepped into his small orderly room at the same time.

  He didn’t look in their direction or at their faces for more than an instant, because the second they entered, Victoria lowered her mouth and kissed him like a wife who dearly missed her husband would kiss a man. It was a sultry, soft, I-was-worried-about-you kind of kiss.

  Mrs. JD was awesome.

  <^> <^> <^>

  Victoria pressed her lips to the pilot’s mouth, putting her hand up to his face to stroke his whisker-rough cheek. She lost herself for a moment when he responded in kind. The kiss was breathtaking and for a few seconds she forgot everything else, pretending that Holden was her man. The doctor and sheriff were getting an eyeful, but that only added to the sincerity of this moment.

  This amazing kiss was exactly how she wanted to greet her husband every single day, which they would do every morning before even getting out of bed. They would also always kiss goodbye whenever they parted for the day. And they would always kiss good night before going to sleep. Always.

  Yes. Sure. It was cliché. Whatever. Victoria wanted that sappy, romantic type of life anyway.

  “Sorry to intrude,” a bland male voice said. Victoria assumed it was the doctor. She’d heard the sheriff’s deep gruff voice down at the hospital’s registration desk, asking for the man who didn’t have his memories.

  She stopped kissing Holden and backed up a bit, staring deeply into his eyes. The stunning light-blue color mesmerized her for a few seconds.

  “Are you the guy without his memories?” the sheriff asked.

  Holden turned away from their intense gaze.

  “That’s me. I’m called John Doe now, according to my nurse.”

  Victoria straightened. “He’s not John Doe. He’s my husband.”

  “Your husband?” The sheriff sent his harsh gaze her way. He eyed her briefly, but then put his focus back on Holden.

  “Do you remember her?” he asked.

  Holden looked at her lovingly, took her hand in his and said, “I wish I did. But I still don’t remember anything.”

  “How do you know she’s really your wife then?”

  Victoria said, “Because I am his wife. We love each other and he kissed me just like he always does.”

  The sheriff didn’t seem convinced.

  Spuds. This had to work.

  Victoria’s initial plan had been to rush inside and straight up to the registration desk. She planned to be emotional, weepy, searching for her missing husband and wanting help. She expected the lady at the front desk to be sympathetic and go the extra mile for a distraught loved one.

  She had a whole scenario pictured where she’d be taken immediately to Holden’s room and she’d playact, tell her stories and ask to be left alone with him. They then could slip out together and make their way to the rendezvous point. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.

  But no, that perfectly rehearsed scenario went out the window when the sheriff showed up. She had to change her plans and fast.

  The woman at the registration desk turned away just as some guy exited a stairwell a few yards from the desk. So Victoria decided not to sign in. She’d go in and act like she’d already done the whole weepy, “Where is my beloved husband,” spiel and move on to phase two of her loosely formed plan. Get her fake husband alone, assess his injuries and, if he was conscious, spiri
t him out of this hospital as fast as possible.

  Victoria listened as the woman at reception told the sheriff Holden’s room number then moved quickly to the door with the pictogram of a staircase and opened it. She raced up four flights as fast as she could to ensure she got to Holden’s room before the sheriff, hoping he’d be waiting a while for the elevator to come to the ground floor.

  Stella told her the Defender hadn’t worked on the sheriff, so there was no point in having it at the ready. As she hurriedly climbed the stairs, Victoria plucked her Defender off her belt and shoved it in her backpack, trying not to slow down. She had to make it up there before the sheriff or this right-off-the-top-of-her-head plan wouldn’t work as well.

  She saw the sheriff exit the elevator as she shot into Holden’s semi-private room.

  An older man was asleep in the first bed, so she moved to the next bed, pulling the curtain open gently, grateful to have found him. She knew her time was very limited. She couldn’t get him out before the sheriff found them. And they didn’t have a chance to chat about alien matters. So she’d just have to make the best of a troubling situation. Holden knew the rules, obviously. He’d chosen the perfect scenario of losing his memories and then spending his time unconscious.

  Now that they were here together, Victoria would be making up her story as she went along, but at least she and Holden would have the same story. The plans she’d made and the stories she’d concocted and practiced for the past ninety minutes might work in part, but it was likely easier to fool anyone other than a sheriff. He was already suspicious of Stella and their Defender technology. Victoria was glad Stella had been able to convey that information when they’d met or she’d have been caught before she’d even started Holden’s escape.

  Victoria wondered for a minute why the Defender hadn’t worked on the sheriff. He was a tall, well-muscled man. Was he part Alpha? No. Couldn’t be. No other aliens were allowed on Earth and Alphas were all supposed to reside in Alienn, Arkansas, if they remained on Earth.

  Holden coughed a couple of times, cleared his throat and settled back against the pillow looking suddenly exhausted. His color went a bit pale and his eyes closed.