Alien Tango

by Gini Koch

  Someone at the radio station certainly hated me—the hard rock channel spun Mayer’s “Dreaming With a Broken Heart.” It had been bad enough hearing it before. It was worse when I was all alone, driving toward nothing.

  I cried through the whole song and then forced myself to think again. Thankfully, Social Distortion’s “Prison Bound” was the next song. I probably was, but at least it didn’t make me want to kill myself.

  Something was wrong with my theory—the one about how Reid was tracking me, not the one about Chuckie, which I was now fairly sure was accurate. The jet was at Area 51, so if there was a tracking device on it, the most likely place for one to be, then Reid should be in Nevada.

  Helen had gotten my cell phone number, so that would explain why he could call me. Martini had registered us weeks ago, so it would have been easy to know where we were supposed to be this weekend, which explained Shannon’s presence at the reunion dinner, and probably Chuckie’s as well, with or without Mom’s assistance. But how had Reid found us at Terminal Two? We’d parked the Porsche at Three, and it seemed overly lucky to assume he’d spotted us in the terminal bus by chance.

  Chuckie’s comment about satellite technology came back to me. They were tracking me via my phone. That meant the headlights way in the distance behind me were a good bet to be hostile. I dug the phone out of my purse. It was dead and now my personal albatross.

  I resisted the urge to toss it out the window. Do that, they’d know I’d figured it out. I was coming up on Casa Grande, not the biggest burg in existence, but like the rest of the area, it was growing. Pulled off the freeway and into a gas station. Dumped the phone in a trash can, got back on the road. Two minutes used, max.

  Decided to go for the high-level risk and turned the headlights off, though I could keep the instrument panel lit in this car. Now I’d only show up if they had radar or I had to brake. Additionally, no moon meant no reflection on a lot of the road. The highway was empty again, and I was the fastest thing on it as far as I could tell.

  I drove on through the night, watching the headlights get closer. They faded at what I was pretty sure was Casa Grande. Fifty percent chance they’d assume I’d headed back to Pueblo Caliente. Of course, that was the same chance Martini had given for the jet being okay. I assumed they’d be after me shortly.

  I came up on a group of cars and had to turn the headlights back on while moving through them. There were a lot of trucks in this portion of the road, and they were unintentionally impeding my ability to get around them. Within minutes we were down to a crawl. I saw signs—roadwork ahead.

  The people after me had no compunction about murdering innocents. Karl Smith, the cleaning lady, the care-taker, the man in the bathroom, lord alone knew who else. I couldn’t stay on the highway—they’d just blow through the truckers and the families around me.

  The train tracks were to the left of the freeway, and soon I wouldn’t have a chance to get off due to the construction I could see ahead. I waited for the next highway patrol turnout, drove across the dirt divider, floored it across the oncoming traffic. The Mazda was low to the ground, but it was a worker. I bumped over things I wasn’t supposed to be driving on and reached the tracks. A huge train was there, but that was fine. I could go faster for certain. If I was lucky, I could get ahead of the train and cross the tracks, thereby hiding myself from my pursuers. I didn’t expect luck, but I was going for it anyway.

  The 69 Eyes’ “Perfect Skin” was growling at me. I loved this song. I put the pedal down and started gaining on the train’s engine. Reached the head before the song was halfway done. Risked a look in the rearview. A large SUV that looked a lot like an Escalade was crossing the highway. And SUVs were far more equipped to handle off-road driving than sporty little Mazdas.

  “Come on,” I said to the car. “Prove you’re girl enough to run with the big dogs.” The car and I decided we were. I had the accelerator to the floor. Top speed was supposedly 140, and we were almost there. I could see an area up ahead where I might have a chance of crossing the tracks without flipping or being rammed by the train.

  Time to see what the skills really were. The needle hit 140, and we passed the engine as if it were standing still. Reached the might-be-a-crossing and turned. It worked great if I didn’t mind being airborne. No Jerry to tell me how to land this one.

  I was a child of pop culture. The Duke Boys had never had an issue flying in the General Lee, and I didn’t plan to have one either. I kept the wheel under control just as if I were on the road but took my foot off the accelerator a bit. Landed hard but on all four wheels. Bounced a lot and hit my head on the roof since I’d been too busy staying alive to put the seat belt on. I was whooping just like the Dukes when I finally got the car under control. I headed toward the mountains in the distance. I had nowhere else to go.

  “Emergency Assistance,” a well-modulated female voice said. “Are you injured?”

  “Ah, no, not really. Hit my head.”

  “I heard screams. Have you had a collision?” It dawned on me that I’d turned on a live service when I’d bounced. And a live person meant I might be able to get a message through to someone.

  “No, but I need your help.”

  “I show this vehicle as being stolen.” Damn, the Mazda’s owner must not have been able to drive a stick. “Suggest you pull over and wait for the police.”

  “Ma’am? If the police can get to me, that would be beyond wonderful. I’m a federal agent, and I’m being pursued by people who are trying to kill me.”

  “What is your badge number?”

  Oh, hell. No idea, but I could bet Mom and Kevin could rattle theirs off without missing a beat. “Shit!” Had to swerve around a huge saguaro and just managed to avoid running over a lot of prickly pear. Poor car.

  “I beg your pardon.” She sounded offended.

  “Sorry, sorry, my bad. Look, what’s your name?” Silence. “I’m Kitty, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to die soon, so, since you’re likely to be the last person I speak to, I’d like to know your name.”

  “Gloria.”

  “Nice to meet you, Gloria. It’s a long story, but I don’t have my badge with me, and I’m new enough that I don’t have the number memorized. I work for a government agency you’ve never heard of and am affiliated with two others you’ve never heard of. And there are some really scary men after me and my boyfriend and I just broke up.” Whoops, my mouth was not doing a good job with censorship.

  “Ah,” she said, sounding like this wasn’t a new one. “Another woman?”

  “No, he thinks I’m cheating on him.”

  “Are you?”

  “No! And I have options,” I felt compelled to add. “An old boyfriend asked me to marry him two weeks ago and my best guy friend who wasn’t really ever a boyfriend but was a fling asked me to marry him tonight.”

  “You rich or just gorgeous?”

  “Neither. I’m not barking or anything, but I’m not the most gorgeous girl in the room.” Especially if that room was filled with A-C women. “And if they’re hoping for a trust fund, I’ll inherit four dogs, three cats, and a lot of allergy meds, and that’s about it.”

  “So, anyone else after you that your boyfriend would be jealous of?”

  “His cousin likes me. And one of our friends, but he’s gay, but if he weren’t I’d marry him because he never, ever makes me cry.” Like I was right now. “But he thought I was having an affair with a different friend, who’s great looking and has bags of charisma, but he’s happily married and besides, I love Jeff.”

  “Jeff’s your boyfriend?”

  “He was. We broke up this afternoon.” Looked in the rearview. There were headlights coming after me. “And it was my ten-year high school reunion, and he’s the one who wanted to go, but I ended up having to go alone, and then Chuckie was there, and he proposed, but I can’t even think about it because these horrible warmongers are after me, and I’m going to die. And my hair’s a mess.”

&n
bsp; “Why’d you two break up? You and Jeff, I mean?”

  “I don’t know. I think he’s sick or got drugged by someone.”

  “Is that why you stole the car, to support his habit?”

  “He’s not a drug addict! He doesn’t even drink, but they want to kill him, too. He doesn’t take anything. Well, other than adrenaline, but he has to or he’ll die.”

  “That’s what all addicts think.”

  “Look, he’s not, okay? And I didn’t steal the cars to pay for his habits. I stole them to stay alive.”

  “You stole more than one car?”

  “Chuckie and I had to steal the Porsche because Shannon the Toothless Weasel was trying to shoot us. I gave the owner of the Mazda the keys as a trade. I had to steal this car because Reid had me.”

  “Reid another one in love with you?”

  “No, he’s the guy trying to kill me. Leventhal Reid. He’s a Representative from Florida.”

  “What’s his connection to the weasel?”

  “I think the weasel works for him. Shannon’s a part of Club 51.”

  “That like Price Club?”

  “No, it’s like UFO whackos who want to kill all the aliens.”

  “So, there are aliens, too?”

  “I’m not saying.”

  “How hard did you hit your head, honey?”

  “Not that hard. Look, can you please call someone for me? They’re in an SUV, and they’re gaining.”

  CHAPTER 69

  THE ESCALADE WAS CLOSE ENOUGH for me to see the grillwork. “Gloria, can you please call Solomon and Angela Katt of Pueblo Caliente and let them know that I said I love them?”

  “Those your parents?”

  “Yes.”

  There was a pause. “Your name is Kitty Katt?”

  “Katherine, but they call me Kitty. Everyone calls me Kitty, though James calls me girlfriend and Jeff used to call me baby.” I sobbed on the last word but kept it sort of together, to use the term loosely.

  “James is which one?”

  “The gay guy I’d marry if he was straight.”

  “Right. We have another agent putting in a call to your parents.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem. It’s a slow night.”

  I got a sneaking suspicion. “Um, are the other folks over there listening in?”

  “Yes. You have seven who think we should send a helicopter, five who think you’re crazy, and two marriage proposals, sight unseen.”

  “Gee. Thanks, I’m flattered. Bad timing, let me get back to them. And, just out of curiosity, what are you doing?”

  “We’ve contacted state and local authorities.”

  I felt a bump. “Tell them to look for a smoking heap of twisted metal. The Escalade’s on top of me.” I floored it again, cacti be damned.

  “Any message for, let’s see, Jeff, the old boyfriend who proposed two weeks ago, Chuckie the best friend who proposed tonight, Jeff’s cousin, James the gay guy, or the married guy with charisma?”

  “Why didn’t anyone but Kevin listen to me?”

  “Who’s Kevin?”

  “The married guy with charisma.”

  “He listens to you?”

  “Yes. Jeff used to.”

  “But he doesn’t any more?”

  “He doesn’t love me any more.” Swerved around a saguaro the Escalade barreled over. “I am not the one who just destroyed the saguaro! I want that on record. They are our state tree, or whatever, and I respect the cactus. The Escalade ran over the saguaro, not me.”

  “Noted. I’m sure it’ll lighten your sentence.”

  “Gloria, I’m not going to live long enough to be arrested, let alone tried and sentenced. I left my purse in the hotel room, so I don’t have my gun, I don’t have my iPod, I don’t have my hairspray, nothing. And my cell died and I had to throw it away because they were tracking me with it.”

  “Seems like they found you anyway.”

  “Yeah. I liked that phone, too.” The Escalade was trying something new. It was alongside me now. It swerved at me, and I spun the wheel to the right.

  “Why are you screaming? What’s happened?” Gloria was shouting.

  “Always scream when I’m terrified, Gloria, it’s my way of sharing the fun. I’m spinning out.” Car settled a bit, it wasn’t facing the Escalade, I hit the gas. “Okay, out of the spin out. They look like more fun on TV, in case anyone wonders.”

  “Where’s the Escalade?”

  I checked the rearview. Nothing. Checked to the sides. Nothing. “I don’t know.”

  “How do you lose an Escalade?”

  “I have no idea.” I looked around again, still nothing. I turned front to see the SUV appear out from what I realized was a wash and stop dead in front of me. I screamed and slammed on the brakes. The car stopped two inches from the Escalade. I saw smoke coming out from under the hood. “Bye, Gloria, I have to run away so they can chase me on foot before they kill me. Thanks for being there.”

  I kicked off my shoes, opened the door, and leaped out. I thought I heard someone who wasn’t Gloria shouting my name from the interior speaker, but I was too busy running to stop to say good-bye to the rest of the Emergency Assistance gang.

  Running barefoot in the desert is not fun, but it’s better than running in four inch stilettos. My dress was a hindrance. I pulled it up, ripped the slit up to the waist seam and kept on running. I could hear someone behind me, breathing hard.

  I didn’t turn around. Track trained you well about that. Look behind, lose the race. This was a lot like when Alliflash was chasing me, only I’d actually had a hope of survival there. I knew without asking that Reid had nothing pleasant planned for me.

  I had no destination other than “away.” I had no hope of rescue, I just didn’t want to die like this.

  Not my choice, of course. Someone grabbed my hair and pulled. It hurt like hell and caused me to fall back, right into whoever was yanking on me. Turned out to be Reid. He looked more reptilian up close, as if he were part snake. I was terrified of snakes.

  “You’re a lot of work,” he snarled. “I hope you’ll be worth it.” I tried to get away, and he slapped me, hard, and then backhanded me for good measure. I’d locked my jaw closed just in time, but it hurt like hell.

  “Isn’t this stupid, for you to be out here doing your own dirty work?”

  He smiled. I’d thought the Supreme Fugly had been bad, but this man was pure human and pure evil. “Where’s the enjoyment in that?” He dragged me back toward the cars. I was happy to note he was still limping. I wondered how he’d caught me, then figured he’d been high on adrenaline.

  “You’re willing to risk your career by murdering me?”

  “Oh, not just murdering you.” He flung me to my knees so I was in the SUV’s headlights. Reid jerked his head, and Shannon got out of the driver’s seat, carrying what looked like a lead pipe and wire cutters. Reid took them from him, and Shannon looked at me and giggled. It scared me as much as anything else had.

  “You see, it’s easy to destroy evidence, if you know what you’re doing.” Reid was walking around me, slapping the pipe into the palm of his hand. “First, you cut off the fingertips at the first knuckle and scatter them for the animals to eat.”

  “No fingerprints.”

  “Correct. Then, you use the pipe to crush all the bones in the feet. Hard to run. But, just to be sure, I’ll break all the bones in your legs and arms, too.” He stopped in front of me. “Then, well, I’ll have some fun.” He slid his hand under the top of my dress. I tried to shove him away but he put the pipe against my head. He pawed my breasts, doing his best to be rough. I gritted my teeth.

  “You’re going to leave your DNA in me? That seems stupid.”

  Reid put the pipe in front of my eyes. “No . . . not my DNA.” He let that one hang on the air for a few moments. “Then, after I’ve expanded your, heh, horizons, then I’ll break your rib cage. Then, well, then I’ll smash your teeth out. You, of course,
will still be alive, oh, and don’t worry about fainting—I’ve brought plenty of smelling salts.”

  I didn’t say anything. I knew I couldn’t talk without crying or sounding terrified.

  “Finally, of course, I’ll smash your skull. There won’t be much of you left to identify, but a shallow grave out here should be sufficient. I must thank you for choosing this location. It’s excellent.”

  “No problem.” I could talk as long as I kept my teeth gritted. He was still pawing me. He put the pipe under my chin and pushed. I got the hint and stood up. He took his hand out of my top, but only so he could send it under my skirt.

  “Nice,” he said as he squeezed my thighs. I clamped them together. He still pawed me, but through my underwear. I tried not to think about what he was doing, but the only thing I could focus on was how when Martini did things like this to me it was never frightening, never painful, never against my will.

  I closed my eyes. This didn’t sit well with Reid, because he pulled his hand away from my body so he could slap my face again. I went to my hands and knees. My head hurt, and I was dizzy. I didn’t want this to be the last thing I remembered of my life. If I ever needed to get to the Happy Place, it was now.

  I focused on the happiest memory I had—Cabo with Martini. Swimming in the ocean. Just being together, talking, laughing, making love in our private cabana on the beach. I was crying, partially from fear, some from loss. I’d never go there again, even if I survived tonight. I couldn’t go back to Cabo without Martini.

  Reid grabbed my left wrist and pulled my hand up in front of me. He had the pipe tucked under his arm and the wire cutters in his hand. “Would you like to beg for mercy?”

  “Not really. I would like to know why you’re doing this to me, aside from your being a sociopath, I mean.” My last shot—if someone was monologuing, then I was still alive.

  He cocked his head at me. “You don’t know?”

  “No freaking idea.”

  “You, you personally, ruined twenty years’ worth of planning in two days. Two days! Centaurion Division was going to be destroyed, and instead you caused the arrest of over three hundred operatives, killed my right-hand man, and stole my secret weapon. Not to mention whatever voodoo you did with the astronauts that has the highest levels of government suddenly kowtowing to that miserable space trash.”