She couldn’t move even if she wanted to. Her heart hammered in her throat, saliva turning to chalky mud in her mouth. Her muscles chattered so hard she could hear them. Oh, God, please save me from the monsters. I promise to be a good girl from now on. Well—I mean at least for the next five years or so.
Finding her voice, she croaked, “May I pretty please go home now?” Her croaking trailed off to a forlorn hopeless whisper. Abby slowly walked toward her, lustrous orbs zeroing in on her like a female king cobra assessing her afternoon snack. She slowly unbuttoned her blouse as Kenya tried to melt into the polished teak floor.
“You’re not going to eat me now, are you?” She leaned back as far as she could.
“No, we’re going to wait until you ripen up a little more.”
Looking up at Abby, she felt her face drain of blood.
“Got’cha—chicky.” Abby doubled over, laughing. Scott joined her with a half-hearted chuckle. The tension receded.
“Was that really necessary, babe? Don’t we have enough to handle without making things worse? You okay, young lady?” Jose’s small kindness started the waterworks. She was pregnant, after all. She told herself she hadn’t been frightened anyway. Hormones, remember? She squinted up at Abby, speculation getting the best of her.
“Don’cha think that was a little mean?”
“Come on, that was a good one. I just couldn’t resist. I’ve been under extreme stress for a while now, I just needed a little comic relief. And I don’t even have a sense of humor. Just ask anybody. You better now?”
“Well—not really. I’m not happy about getting stuck on a yacht with a bunch of strangers who have eyes that look like they were special ordered from the devil. And did I mention there are some hungry lions and tigers and a gang of six-hundred-pound bears running around upstairs?” She closed her eyes for a minute, overwhelmed by the recitation of her plight. From across the elegant salon, she noticed Scotty scrutinize her, his expression one of pity and resignation.
“Chicky, you haven’t seen anything yet,” Scotty said. His sister threw him an impatient look.
“Hon, listen to me. I’m going to explain everything.” Abby started to sound reasonable.
“The eyes?”
“Yes, the eyes and much more.” Abby sighed deeply, extending an encouraging smile. “The bad news is you won’t believe a word of it so, to cut to the chase, I’m going to have to show you something. Do I have your permission?”
“Well, chicky, of course you do. Let ‘er rip.” Kenya felt measurable relief. Her body started to relax, her adrenaline tamped itself back down. Gee, why does Abby have to make such a big deal about it? She was sure there was a simple explanation for those eyes. Didn’t Petah say they came from an infection? She peeked around Abby’s legs to see what his highness was doing, when Abby’s shirt suddenly hit the floor. What the heck?
“Hey, ladybug, I’m up here.” Kenya looked up from the floor to see a sight so shockingly incomprehensible, her only split-second thought revolved around the random luck that she happened to already be sitting on the floor as she felt her mind surrender to the more welcoming blackness waiting to claim her as she slumped over, dead to all.
Chapter 18
Scotty and Kenya collapsed on the green Haitian cotton lounger in the salon while Abby busied herself making drinks in the kitchen. They expected to be docking in Tampa in less than an hour. Everyone decided they could use a good stiff one before they started the next leg of their journey, psyching themselves up for the rush to the airport . . .
They left Jose in one of the cabins with Chloe. She had miraculously regained consciousness shortly after Kenya fainted. Kane, trying to be helpful, took responsibility for Kenya, helping her to her feet and moving her to an upholstered chaise while everyone else hovered over Chloe. Peter moved topside with the captain, who was alone with the animals as he steered the boat as quickly as possible to Tampa, trying to artfully dodge other pleasure boats as they wandered close enough to spot the unusual nature of the Lucky Lady’s passengers.
Ginger Mae and Daisy sat silent, huddled together and obsessively following everyone’s movements with their shell-shocked eyes. Scotty craned his neck up over Kenya, surreptitiously observing Ginger Mae. The poor woman could barely talk, her lip bloated and swollen. She nodded her head to indicate her gratitude to Abby as she set a crystal snifter of brandy on the Lucite table next to her.
Overhead, occasional sounds filtered into the salon through the open stairwell, proof that the animals hadn’t deserted the yacht. The elderly monkeys continued their vigil on the sideboard, looking quite relaxed and content with their newly claimed territory. The macaw busily decorated the sides of the refrigerator with evidence of a prolific digestive system.
Scotty wondered what shape the yacht would be in by the time they got to Tampa. Listlessly he realized the yacht might not even be here for the long haul. Abby’s shocking rant about the upcoming cataclysmic event had shaken them to the core. He remembered the incredulous faces in the salon as she had laid out her plan. Even Kenya, recovering on the chaise, had been speechless. He could bet that wasn’t a common occurrence.
“I don’t think that one over there likes me.” Kenya pointed to the posse.
“What, you mean Echo?” She was mounted around Barney’s neck as usual. Barney was facing the hallway to the cabins. Kenya was positioned directly across the room facing the back of Barney’s head. It should have been the back of Echo’s head too but, in typical Echo fashion, she had swiveled her head around, doing a one-eighty, to stare at Kenya as her body faced the hallway with Barney’s.
Yeah, Scotty thought . . . creepy. “Nah, she likes you. She’s just been unusually quiet lately.”
“So, she does talk?”
“Yeah, but I think she can only talk to people that she’s cured. Something about the cure starts the changes. We don’t understand any of it. I’m not sure if she does either. She can be very cryptic when she communicates. We get colored pictures of words, sometimes thoughts. Maybe some of it is lost in translation. She’s actually very lovable. She’s part of the family. As you can see, she adores my dog. Actually, she thinks Barney belongs to her.”
They watched Barney inch down to lie flat on the floor. Echo bent over without taking her eyes off Kenya. Her long supple fingers reached out to the floor, tapping on the hardwood like a blind man with a cane until they rested on little Mimi. Her fingers gently stroked Mimi’s silken head. Mimi rose instantly, scooting closer to Barney where Echo promptly scooped her up, depositing her lovingly on Barney’s head where she could cuddle her.
“Wow, she’s just like a little person. I don’t know, chicky. How do you know she won’t eat them?”
Scotty could see the suspicious calculations going on in her pretty head. He was having a tough time getting a handle on her. He didn’t know many black girls, or girls in general. He figured she was possibly the hottest girl he’d ever seen up close. Very opinionated, very pregnant. And she was funny, although he suspected she would not be pleased with his assessment. Except for the hot part.
“Echo doesn’t eat anything. She takes what she needs from the sun. Her mouth seems to be for respiration, cooling her body. Like a dog. Although she doesn’t have a tongue. No teeth either. Hmm, I wonder if that connection means anything.”
“Listen, chicky.” She turned to face him, her big exotic cow eyes speaking their own language. “I have a problem here. You all know each other. I’m the new girl. Now I know you have something going with little Chloe.” He winced, hearing how that sounded. “I could sure use a friend. A cute guy like you,” her eyes were making a move,” can handle that, can’t you?” She brightened, “We’ll be buds. Yeah, I like that. What do you say?” He couldn’t ignore the animal magnetism trying to drown him.
“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” God, he sounded like a boob. He could feel a creeping red flush set his face on fire.
“I think your wings are, like, major cool. I wouldn’t
mind having a set a them myself.”
“Yes, you would. So far, they’re just in the way.” He pulled back quickly as he heard Kane’s big feet clump down the stairs.
“Hey, guys.” Scotty could see Kane’s eyes register the cozy scene between him and Kenya. Flopping down on the lounger next to Kenya’s vacant side, Kane fumbled in the ripped pocket of his faded shorts to pull out a handkerchief. Giving his sun-bronzed face a good swab, he mopped up the sweat from his handsome mug. Scotty wondered if the sweat was from the roasting sun or the cats which stared like lasers, cataloguing their every move. Kane furtively glanced at Kenya to see if she was paying attention.
“I don’t see why we had to do this the hard way. We could have zipped up the interstate right to the airport.”
“We never would have made it that far. You can bet the cops are looking for us by now. On the highways, of course. Where else would the trucks go? Who would ever expect someone to load up a pleasure cruiser with uncaged lions and tigers? That good enough for you, Kane?” They all jerked toward the galley as Abby’s sarcasm plowed into Kane.
“Look guys, you don’t have to second guess me. Echo and I’ve considered every angle. We’ll make it to safety in one piece. If you have any questions, it’s all right, just ask me.” She walked toward Kane with a gin and tonic in her hand. Passing it over, she admonished him.
“One only. We’ll be docking soon.” She smiled, her hand drifting to his shoulder in reassurance. “I know it’s been a shock. It’s hard on all of us. And it’ll get harder. But we’ll be safe.”
Abby stopped speaking as Jose joined them from the hallway, a pitiful portrait of a man trying to function on a depleted emotional reservoir. Scotty could see that he was on the verge of a breakdown, too many shocks to the system. How would anyone feel, arriving home after a long absence to find your girlfriend pulling the rug out from under the new life you’d just finished creating? Pile on the mother of all coincidences: the inconceivable events at Chloe’s house which had led to the shocking discovery of her true identity. Way too much to deal with. He knew that Jose would need to quickly come to terms with Abby’s bizarre rescue and the ambiguity of a mysterious impending disaster. She needed his support. On top of it all, her easy familiarity around Captain Cobby had not escaped his notice.
“Let me get you something to drink. How about something for Chloe?” Abby snapped to attention as Jose eased himself into a comfortable chair near Ginger Mae. Leaning toward her, he extended a tired hand.
“How’re you making out? I’m Jose Diaz.”
Ginger Mae stared at the hand left hanging in mid-air as if it was a stinky fish. She appeared puzzled as to what she should do with it. Abby hurried over with ice water for Jose.
“That’s okay, Ginger Mae.” She patted her shoulder, trying to smooth over the moment. Ginger Mae recoiled as if struck by a venomous serpent. Scotty could see pricks of suspicion in the poor woman’s eyes. No one spoke as Ginger Mae tossed her head, attempting a pose of dignity. She self-consciously brushed at her skirt, modestly smoothing it over her knees. Wrapping her arms around little Daisy, her eyes slammed shut like a closed door announcing no one was home.
Kane and Kenya exchanged glances, rolling their eyes questioningly. Jose let his hand drop limply to his side, clearly too burdened with his own pain to recognize the same damage in Ginger Mae.
“Let me see if I can help,” Kenya whispered to Scotty. Rising from the chaise longue, she joined them on the sofa, her long model’s legs tucked tightly against the upholstery. Ginger Mae watched her move across the room, her face impassive. Kenya sat casually, glancing at Ginger Mae with a gentle warm smile. No big movements. Scotty could see Ginger Mae visibly relax. A few moments passed. Ginger Mae studied Kenya from the corner of her eyes. Then she unexpectedly reached out to touch Kenya’s riotous mane of extravagant hair. She caressed it tentatively, a shadow of a smile on her ruined lips.
“That’s alright, chicky.” Kenya was so overcome by the tenderness of the gesture, she gently swept the woman into her arms where Ginger Mae finally broke down, drenching Kenya with her hot bitter tears. Well look at that, Scotty thought. Good for Kenya. Now maybe some small healing can begin.
The touchingly raw moment was interrupted by Captain Cobby’s arrival. He stomped heavily down the stairs from his station at the helm, leaving Peter to keep watch, tension deeply imbedded in his posture. Not much different from anyone else, Scotty observed wryly.
“Abby, I need to speak with you. I just heard from the harbor master.” He removed his cap, sweeping his short gray-flecked dark curly hair, damp from the sweat on his forehead, back out of the way. He had an unmistakable aura of adult confidence. Or is it something else? Scotty wondered. He noticed Kenya had fluffed up her hair and artfully arranged her legs as she propped up Ginger Mae, stealing looks at the captain.
“How about a glass of water?”
“Sure, Cobby.” Abby presented him with his water, her shoulders looking droopy. The captain took the frosted glass from her hands, setting it on a table. Turning her around, he began to massage her neck and shoulders.
“How’s that feel?”
“Like heaven.” She sighed, letting her head drop, obviously enjoying the sensation. She failed to notice Jose taking in the small intimacy. Scotty could read his face like a book. What the heck’s going on? No one else reacted to the scene playing out by the steps. Oh shit!
“Abby. Captain Cobby.” His voice cracked like a bullet. “Do not move a muscle.” Now, everyone had noticed the danger. The two at the stairs froze as an eight-hundred-pound Bengal tiger descended the steps, his movements so stealthy not even a dust mote moved.
“Everyone stay calm. He won’t do anything. He can’t. Trust me, please.” Abby’s trembling voice clearly belied the confidence she had in the implants.
The enormous cat reached the bottom of the stairs. His head was gigantic, completely blocking access to the stairs. Scotty’s heart ratcheted dangerously. He tried to remember to breathe as he subconsciously admired the awesome beauty of the beast. The killing machine.
The cat purposefully scanned the room, every muscle frozen as it maintained its terrifying crouch. Seconds turned into minutes which felt like hours. The hot sweet smell of its pelt suffused the room. Kenya suddenly jumped up onto the sofa, her back to the wall.
“Someone better get that stinkin’ cat out a here.” Her voice cracked with barely suppressed hysteria. Little Daisy suddenly found her voice, screaming at the top of her lungs. The cat ignored them both. Scotty slowly felt the room careen dangerously. His vision faded and then cleared. Shaking himself, aware that something was wrong, he finally noticed the cat focusing on him. His heart came to a stop as the beast stalked its way across the room, stopping inches away from Scotty’s blood-drained face.
The tiger’s eyes hypnotized him, obscuring everything else in the room. Distantly, he heard the sound of a dog barking. His attention was focused so tightly on the tiger, he could see his own glowing eyes reflected in its pupils. The hot breath bathing his face, redolent of the beast’s last meal, made him queasy. The tiger abruptly sat down on his haunches, not taking his attention off Scotty. A flicker of something in the menacing beast’s eye drew his attention. The tiger raised one paw off the wood floor and held it poised in front of Scotty’s vulnerable face. Precious seconds ticked by as everyone held their breath, frozen in place. Slowly, eight hundred pounds of coiled muscle placed its paw on Scotty’s chest. Its eyes flickered again, the strangeness more apparent, but just as ambiguous. A flash of recognition hit Scotty like a brick as he recognized the half-moon tear in the tiger’s ear. It was the same tiger that had mesmerized him at the sanctuary. The tiger stood, lifted its hind leg and urinated, liberally flooding Scotty’s foot, a show of dominance and ownership.
It turned to stare at the dogs, quickly padding to the corner where they huddled together. The dogs cowered, dribbling urine and whining softly. Mimi lay flat on her back, legs splayed
out exposing her tender belly in submission. Penny sniffled in disdain, refusing to cower. A movement caught everyone’s eye as Echo emerged from under the chair that Barney had crawled under. They held their breath, praying for the best. The tiger eyed Echo, sounding an unexpected chuff. After a split second, it turned away and bounded up the stairs.
The terrified group waited a beat before erupting.
“Oh my God. Did he hurt you?”
“Chicky—”
“What’s happening, Echo?”
“I need a drink.”
“Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Mommy.”
Scotty sat flummoxed. What had just happened? This was not a coincidence. He watched, emotionally bankrupt, as Ginger Mae cooed unintelligible sounds to Daisy, clinging to her niece like a bear unwilling to relinquish the farmer’s bee hive. Didn’t he just hear Daisy call her Mommy? Something odd there. I thought Daisy was her niece.
“What do you think this means?” Abby looked up to Captain Cobby as if he knew all the answers. A bond of some kind definitely radiated between the two. He searched for Jose in the hot room, catching him with his eyes on Abby, reflecting injury clear as a bell. Jose dragged himself over to Scotty, mumbling something about getting back to Chloe then disappeared back down the hallway.
Alien Species Intervention: Books 1-3: An Alien Apocalyptic Saga (Species Intervention #6609) Page 53
