by J. Judkins
The Dark Path of Romance
Find the aliens. Steal their toys. Save the world. Mostly, steal their toys
By J. Judkins
Asylum Inspirations Books
Copyright 2017 J. Judkins
Edited by Kisa Whipkey
www.kisawhipkey.com
Cover art and design by Anne O’Rider
https://www.instagram.com/anneorider/
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter One
Kim followed Angel through the maze of brightly lit corridors, while Angel followed the trail of unconscious security guards, as if they were breadcrumbs leading them to safety from the depths of the dark forest. Their escape from the facility had been uneventful so far, yet Kim couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling burning in the pit of her stomach. A feeling that something wasn’t quite right.
She hadn’t been present during Angel’s rescue attempt because she’d been the one being rescued. Now that she’d seen the results of Angel’s incursion firsthand, it came as a shock to discover how much damage her girlfriend could dish out when she set her mind to it.
Kim nudged an unconscious guard with her foot, barely taking note of Angel as she set down her oversized bag of loot and busied herself with his partner. Could it be she felt sorry for them? He seemed roughly the same age as her. Thirty or so. A foot taller. Woefully out of shape. She could easily imagine what must have happened. They’d been minding their own business, doing whatever it was security guards did, when Angel came at them out of nowhere and made their intensive half-day security guard training look even more pathetic than it actually was.
No. It wasn’t sympathy for the fallen. The fighting hadn’t been entirely one-sided. Several of them had taken shots at Angel. The evidence was all around her, bullet holes and shell casings all over the place.
The uneasy feeling lingered.
If Kim stretched credibility just short of the breaking point, she could almost claim she and Angel were escaping the lair of a mad scientist. Could she be feeling disappointment in the lack of automated defenses? Or distressed at the absence of killer robot guardians programmed to destroy intruders with extreme prejudice?
Or was all of that wishful thinking, considering that, at the conclusion of their meeting less than thirty minutes ago, she and Angel were now gainfully employed by that very same scientist?
Angel rose to her full five-foot height, her examination complete. She slung her bag over one shoulder again, and Kim was struck by how much her girlfriend physically resembled a well-endowed and surprisingly sexy Christmas elf.
Pale complexion—check. Snowy white hair with a hint of gold—check. Giant-sized bag of loot filled with guns, guns, and still more guns—check. If the National Rifle Association employed elves, and if those elves handed out Christmas firearms for all the good little boys and girls, Angel could definitely have passed for one. Not necessarily a toy-making elf, but more of a stab-an-orc-in-the-eye-with-an-arrow-shoot-a-different-orc-with-the-very-same-arrow type of elf.
“You do know where we’re going, don’t you?” Kim ventured.
Angel turned to her and held a finger to her lips.
“Okay, okay.” Kim followed Angel into the unexplored corridor, her footfalls distinct against the silence of her stealthy companion.
Maybe her apprehension had something to do with the differences between her and Angel’s techniques? That seemed closer to the mark.
If Kim were playing Thief or Hitman or any of the other stealth-based games, she would have been just as thorough as Angel. Guards weren’t meant to be snuck past. Guards were meant to be snuck up on and thumped over the head. Kim differed from Angel only in that she would have taken extra time to stuff her victims into cabinets or closets to avoid alerting wandering patrols. Angel seemed to be more of an ambush-and-let-the-bodies-fall-where-they-may type of girl.
The pieces fell into place. That’s it! The pathfinding!
Angel’s archaic methods reminded Kim of the very first version of Castle Wolfenstein. Kim had spent hours playing on her father’s computer, slaughtering Nazis in her noble quest to steal the secret plans for Operation Rheingold for the Allied high command. The castle layout was always randomized, so Kim would leave her slain victims in front of explored passageways to avoid needless backtracking. Just like Angel had now.
Did Angel go out of her way to leave a trail?
“Are we lost?” Kim asked.
Angel heaved a sigh. It irked Kim to know this had been the loudest sound she’d made in over ten minutes. The woman was an absolute ghost when she wanted to be. “We’re not lost. We’ll be at the exit eventually.”
Kim scoffed at the explanation. Angel didn’t seem to care. She turned right again, a move which did nothing to convince Kim that Angel wasn’t taking the grand tour.
This new, spacious room appeared to be a waiting area. A skylight let in the warm late-morning sun, and pictures hung on the wall, each depicting expressive woodland scenes with notable attention to detail.
The matching sofas, however, would have looked better if both were on the same side of the room.
And if one of them wasn’t lying on its side at an odd angle.
And if there weren’t a sizeable, unsightly hole in the otherwise pristine wall just above it, presumably marking the point of impact.
Two security guards lay next to the oddly placed sofa. Angel set aside her bag once more and began tending to the first, rendering medical aid, or whatever it was she was doing.
Kim stood where she could easily watch all entrances. Harrison may have been manipulated into hiring them, but it didn’t seem at all l
ikely that any of his subordinates had gotten the memo. “You threw a sofa at them?” she asked.
“I gave them ample warning,” Angel said, her voice sounding defensive and somewhat indignant at the implied accusation. “It forced them to dodge. This allowed me the time necessary to close the distance and put them down before they could retaliate.”
“You’re lucky they didn’t shoot you.”
Angel turned her attention to the second guard. “I was never in any real danger. Did you know that, according to FBI statistics, less than ten percent of firearm assaults result in an injury?”
“Yeah? Did you know seventy-eight percent of all statistics are made up on the spot?”
Angel blinked. “I wasn’t making it up. Less than half of them had adequate opportunity to shoot me. Fewer still came close to hitting me.”
“I happen to like your body the way it is.”
“I like your body, too.” Angel grinned at Kim before recovering her bag. She chose the closest path this time, instead of the one furthest away—the one Kim guessed did not lead to the exit, despite the fact logic said it should.
Kim shook her head and smiled. Two weeks ago, an embarrassing offhand comment like that would have sent her into shock.
Today, Angel’s words made her feel warm inside.
Theirs was a classic romance, if classic romances included aliens who’d forgotten their own history and blatantly made up details in order to match audience expectations. Kim hadn’t believed Angel’s amnesia story. She had instead become convinced that Angel was an alien posing as human.
But their relationship grew despite Kim’s best efforts. And when Kim finally confronted her, Angel “confirmed” she was an alien scout. That was now her established official story, anyway, and she was sticking to it.
According to Angel, she and five others had come to Earth to conduct a rescue operation. The mission had ultimately failed, and they’d been forced to retreat.
Angel also said she’d been killed at the end. In Kim’s opinion, this fact contributed to the story’s overall lack of credibility.
Angel’s second potential background was directly tied to Dr. Edward Harrison, their new employer. The doctor was a self-proclaimed genius, scientist, and inventor, although Kim would have labeled him as resident-geek-in-a-lab-coat-with-an-eyedropper-and-a-petri-dish.
Both agreed Angel had spent years under Dr. Harrison’s supervision, but there the similarities ended. Harrison claimed, without an ounce of humility, to have created Angel himself. That the moment Angel had achieved self-awareness and put twelve people in the hospital on her way out the door had been the proudest moment of his life.
In either case, Angel had an onboard computer. And considering auto-maps were a given in the modern world, how could Angel possibly be lost? The two of them had long since left the industrial part of the building far behind. The exit had to be close, if the higher quality carpet and artfully arranged furniture were any indication. Why were they still running in circles?
Kim ran a hand through her short auburn hair and followed after her girlfriend.
“Are you sure we’re not lost?”
Angel didn’t deign to answer. She slipped away, silent as a ninja gifted with her own personal mute button.
The next room turned out to be an office space, with desks and chairs stretching from one end to the other. Kim’s eyes were again drawn to the unconscious guards, which seemed to come standard with every room. The first was propped up, as if awkwardly sitting with his back to the wall. His comatose friend lay half on his stomach at an awkward angle a short distance away. Nothing about either one seemed in any way remarkable. Same shabby gray uniform as the others. Same dark pants and empty gun holster.
Tired of playing sentry, Kim eased closer to get a better look.
Angel wasn’t seeing to the injured. She was counting out money. Several dollar bills were placed within easy reach of the first guard, along with a handful of loose change. A much larger amount was left at the foot of the second.
Once again, the pieces fell into place.
When Angel had first invaded the facility searching for Kim, she hadn’t been content to hunt down—and pummel into severe unconsciousness—the entire security force arrayed against her. She had also hacked into their computers, confiscated their weapons, and stolen everyone’s pocket change. Only the noncombatants had been allowed to escape.
After Kim’s subsequent rescue, Angel had promised to return all the money she’d taken. Kim had forgotten the promise until that moment.
But she wasn’t returning everything, Kim noticed. “Why are you keeping their identification cards? Can they be used to open doors?”
“I wanted to be thorough.”
Kim thought for a moment. Then she grinned. “Kicking ass and taking names?”
Angel smiled back at her.
“Are we almost done? I notice you’re almost out of money.”
Angel’s smile faltered. “In a way. These two”—she made a sweeping gesture—“should have been the very last. But three are unaccounted for. Perhaps they recovered. Or perhaps they were discovered by others and taken away.”
“Others? I thought you kept searching until you got them all.”
“Once I found you, there was no need to keep looking. My search was over.”
Kim blinked. The now familiar but still unexpected warm feeling of happiness welled up within her and made her words catch in her throat.
She shook her head, attempting to clear it. “We could leave the rest with Harrison, the next time we see him.”
Her suggestion was met with silence.
She turned a slow circle. Angel was gone.
“Nice disappearing act.” Kim crossed her arms in a huff. “I might be impressed if it weren’t so irritating.”
Angel returned moments later, somewhat anxious and with a frown on her face. “Two guards,” she said, setting her bag at Kim’s feet. “Both of them armed. They’re blocking the path to the elevators. Stay here.”
“Wait, we can tell them that we’re . . .”
Angel was already moving.
“Get back here,” Kim hissed. “Angel!”
But it was too late. She could only watch with her heart in her throat as her memory-challenged girlfriend stepped into the open archway. Kim heard angry shouting and indistinct harsh demands from the other room. Angel raised both hands as if to placate them, then twisted and contorted her body as if already dodging an imminent attack.
Kim understood the reason for it. Angel had once proudly boasted of her ability to accurately predict bullet trajectories, but knowing Angel was preparing to dodge bullets did nothing to help her relax. Kim could easily picture what must be happening on the other side, the guards doing their best to line up shots and Angel constantly moving to counter their attempts.
“Let’s talk about this,” Angel tried once again. “Could you please lower your—”
A gunshot echoed through the halls, loud and jarring.
Angel stopped moving. She blinked as if surprised, uncertain as to what had happened. One hand tentatively reached to touch her chest.
Then she crumpled to the marble floor as if her strings had been cut.
Kim couldn’t find the breath to scream.
Chapter Two
Kim stumbled to Angel’s side. Her hand reached out, but she couldn’t make herself touch her. Touching would make it all real, and it couldn’t be real. Angel couldn’t be dead. It simply wasn’t possible.
She became aware of the two guards approaching, their weapons held loose in their hands. Both wore identical wide-eyed expressions of shock and disbelief.
Angel still didn’t move. Her lovely blue eyes stared out at nothing.
“We’re so fired,” one of the guards muttered under his breath.
The second man spun on the first. “What’s the matter with you?” he cried. “We were supposed to take her in, not shoot her! What the hell did you do that for?”
/> “What? It wasn’t me!”
“I sure as hell didn’t do it!”
Kim found her voice. “Will both of you shut up? She’s been shot! Get help!”
The first guard needed no further prompting. With a final glare at his companion, he sprinted down the hall and disappeared around the corner.
The remaining guard took two tries to put away his weapon. “Where is she hit?”
“I don’t know,” Kim moaned, sick with despair. Why isn’t there blood? There should be blood.
The guard stepped closer, and Angel came alive in a blur. Rolling into a crouch, she spun, sweeping his legs out from under him and launching herself to her feet. The guard landed flat on his back with a whoosh of escaping air, the thin carpeting doing little to cushion his fall. Even as he wheezed, he pulled his gun free and aimed. Angel leapt into the air, spinning like the corkscrew on a roller coaster to evade.
Kim could only stare. The maneuver seemed like a fantastical technique from a low-budget martial arts movie, something she hadn’t thought possible without the assistance of special effects.
As soon as Angel’s feet landed on the ground, she snapped the guard’s weapon from his grasp and struck with a lightning fast jab to his jaw that was almost too quick to see. Kim winced in sympathetic pain.
The guard didn’t move.
Angel stood. The captured gun disappeared into her bag with a flourish, and she made a show of dusting her hands. “No need to return their money,” she said. “I must have missed them the first time around. Let’s go.”
Kim didn’t move. Her fists clenched and unclenched at her side.
“Kim?”
“What the hell was that, Angel? I saw you get shot!”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were faking it?”
“The term is feigning death,” Angel corrected. “Not faking.”
“But I heard the gun!”
Angel’s right hand mimed a gun. She pointed her forefinger and thumb in a safe direction and imitated the loud crack of a gunshot.
Kim half-stumbled back in alarm, her ears ringing. It took her several seconds before she could convince herself that Angel’s finger hadn’t actually gone off. Angel had imitated other voices in the past, including her own, but not sound effects. Never anything like this. Her mimicry had been flawless.
