Odd Coupling

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by Jaylee Davis


  A woman all alone on an isolated ranch at night or even in the daytime could never be too careful. At any moment, she could drive up on a group of illegal refugees or encounter a pack of starving coyotes or a roaming cougar around any turn. Poisonous snakes could be anywhere along the road. Some had rattles.

  Since the doe had forced her to a stop on top a small hill, Bethany took a second to scan the horizon. The sun had set, and the stars were out. They twinkled against the black cloudless sky. Tonight there was no moon, and since her headlights only worked on low beam it made it especially hard to see and drive in the darkness.

  She coughed as a light breeze blew a cloud of caliche dust into her open window. If only she could roll it up. Air conditioning would be nice to have too. It was mid-October and still warm before sunset. Too bad both features were broken. The old truck was an antique, and the parts to fix it cost more than what she could get in salvage. She could easily afford to buy another one. She was being stubborn. They just didn’t build them like this one anymore.

  Bethany squinted at the horizon. She could barely make out an orange glow in the far distance. Whatever it was that had fallen out of the sky had hit the ground just outside her property line. She punched down on the gas pedal and sped off once more. The road would take her all the way to the back fence. The truck tires rumbled over a cattle guard placed in the road between a cross fence, which meant she’d crossed onto the back five hundred acres. The glow ahead seemed to fade instead of grow brighter.

  The possibilities of what might have crashed spurred her onward. Her first idea seemed too outlandish to even consider. Think logically. It had to be an aircraft from one of the military bases near Houston or San Antonio. Or it could’ve been a private plane from one of the larger ranches in the area. There could be survivors who needed help

  The other prospect seemed too farfetched to even consider. It couldn’t possibly be one of the alien aircraft. No. That would be silly. The aliens were too advanced to have something so ridiculous happen. Their ships wouldn’t fall out of the sky. They had some kind of anti-gravity something-or-other that kept them airborne. Besides, what self-respecting alien would ever allow his ship to crash into Texas?

  Over the past two years, life had changed in so many ways. The newest change was the most mind blowing of all for everyone on the planet. The fledgling New World Government had come forward and made a stunning announcement. Travelers from other worlds had arrived. They represented a large group of planets and different species, and they wanted Earth to join their Alliance. In return, the aliens promised to provide protection and resources to help her world recover from a near hit by a giant asteroid, a planet killer.

  As proof of their goodwill, they’d replaced all the damaged and destroyed satellites in orbit around Earth with their own design. The technological leap in communication was extraordinary, and made cell towers obsolete almost overnight. Most of the ground based comm-systems had been wiped out by clusters of meteor strikes that came ahead of the Doomsday Asteroid, anyway.

  Bethany had watched the live news reports in amazement as several Alliance shuttles had landed at different pre-arranged sites around the world. She’d also joined in on the collective worldwide gasp at the sight of the very first alien who’d stepped out of one of the spacecraft.

  He’d looked perfectly human, well over six foot tall, shoulder-length blond hair, blue eyes, and he wore what appeared to be a uniform. The government commentator had explained that he was a Sauren, a commander in the Alliance fleet. The next being to exit had caused a major uproar to flow through the gathered crowd. Bethany thought the tallish alien resembled her favorite barn-tabby, Tom, but only if her pet decided to stand up and walk on his two back legs. The lanky male screamed alien to her way of thinking, although he was a gorgeous-looking kitty with bright gold almond shaped eyes. The commentator had called him a D’Lyrian.

  More species made their appearance that day, but Bethany had seen enough. What interested her most was what the aliens offered—protection. Apparently, Earth had been under attack for some time.

  For several years, groups of humans had been kidnapped from Earth by a race of beings called Krellians. They’d stolen them for decades and sold them as slaves. Bethany felt certain one could add sex in front of slaves. One of her girlfriends had disappeared along with a hundred women and a few men during a vacation trip to Key West.

  The Alliance had rescued the abductees and had returned them to Earth. Her friend had been among them, but she’d immediately gone into hiding. Pam had always been so fun loving and sweet. Now she refused to leave her family’s west Texas ranch, and Bethany hadn’t been able to reach her by phone or social media. The horrifying possibility of what her friend had endured made her angry every time she thought about her.

  Lost in thought, distracted and not paying as much attention to the bumpy road as she should have, Bethany startled as a large shape darted out in front of her. She slammed on the brakes in time, but the truck’s wheels slid over the slick caliche just far enough to clip the animal with the driver’s side bumper. Her phone, flashlight and water bottle tumbled to the floorboard. The shotgun remained secured in an overhead rack.

  “Aw crap!”

  There was nothing in the road she could see from the truck’s weak headlights. Bethany shoved the automatic transmission into park and leaned across the seat to retrieve the flashlight before she pushed her door open.

  Please don’t be hurt too bad. No broken bones, she silently prayed and turned on the flashlight to see around the front of the truck. From the dull sound of the thud, it hadn’t seemed like a hard hit. She cringed. The one thing she hated the most was putting a wounded animal out of its misery. Especially when she was the guilty one who’d caused the injury, but she’d do what needed to be done.

  Her hopes sank as soon as she directed the light on the bumper. She was wrong. Whatever she’d hit, she’d hit it pretty hard. The front edge was dented and the headlight was broken. Strangely, there was no sign of blood or hair. Maybe the animal had crawled into the brush. She aimed the flashlight toward the side of the road. The beam illuminated a large something right next to the edge. At first glance, Bethany couldn’t quite make out what it was. Then, almost in slow motion, it moved its arm, a very large one. A harsh masculine moan came from the huge form.

  “Oh, no!” I hit a giant…man?

  She ran over and dropped to her knees beside him. Anxious to check for injuries, but hesitant to jostle him, she aimed the light at his face to see if he was conscious. At first sight, she yelped in surprise and scrambled away as fast as she could crawl, scraping her hands and knees across the gravel-littered road.

  Not human. Alien. Cat. Big one. In shock, she panted to catch her breath as her heart pounded. She was on the verge of all out panic. No, not even close. She was beyond that. She’d run into an alien. In the middle of nowhere, she’d hit and injured one of them with her truck. I’m so screwed.

  She forced her breathing to slow and tried her best to calm down. She most definitely couldn’t afford to hyperventilate and pass out, not now. The guy wasn’t dead—yet. He’d moved his arm and moaned. Maybe he just needed medical attention. Sure. That’s right, Bethany. Call 9-1-1. Halo flight his alien ass to the nearest hospital. That’s so not happening.

  Another moan came from him. It sounded as if he was in terrible pain.

  “Okay, just see if he is…broken or something,” she muttered while trying to gather her courage as she stood. “You’re not a scared-y cat.” She winced at the poor choice of words and hoped like hell the giant cat alien hadn’t heard her personal pep talk.

  She sidled over to him, kneeled down again and visually checked him for injuries. While she’d been talking to herself, he’d rolled onto his back. His new position made it easier for her. First, she glanced at his legs. The tops of his boots reached to about mid-calf. He was clothed in a uniform similar to the ones the other aliens had worn, except his was almost ripped to
shreds. She was relieved when she didn’t see any blood at all on his trousers.

  At that moment, she heard baying in the distance. The noise came from beyond her high fence, close to where she’d estimated the fire ball had crashed. She’d heard them many times. Caleb, the foreman on the Clayton ranch, raised coon dogs for hunting, but his pride and joy were his guard dogs. They were vicious, and rumors circulated that a single one could maul a man to death. The howls grew louder by the second.

  They’re tracking…catman? She was too rattled to remember his species name.

  Gunfire sounded in the distance, and fear gripped her, not just for herself, but for the alien too. Caleb was against anything that involved the aliens or their Alliance. He was the local leader of the opposition, Pure Earth. The group had become more vocal and pushy the past few months, and Bethany wasn’t one of their supporters. She had to move catman. Fast!

  In a rush, she pointed the flashlight beam at his chest and gasped in alarm at what she discovered. Fresh blood soaked the tattered uniform top that clung to his massive upper body.

  “Dammit!”

  Bethany flicked the light up to his face. His eyelids pressed tighter together and he groaned, revealing sharp teeth. There wasn’t time to try to understand his features, but she thought she saw a blood smear on the side of his face, near where an ear should have been, if he were human.

  “I know you’re hurt, but we have to get away from here. Try to stand. I’ll help you.”

  Bethany prayed he heard her and could understand her instructions. The dogs were too close now, and she was afraid the high fence wouldn’t stop the men who followed if they saw the alien.

  He grunted in agreement or from pain. She wasn’t sure. To her relief, he turned over onto his side. As he rolled away from her, she got a good look at the sides and back of his uniform. The rest of his clothing was ripped up just as his pant legs, but there was no sign of blood.

  She stood and tried to take hold of one of his arms above the elbow. Her hand didn’t come close to closing around the massive biceps. Bethany looped her arm under and around his and pulled. She almost let go the second he let out a growl after she’d yanked up on his arm. He shuffled to his feet and stood groggily. After one look at his massive silhouette, she estimated he towered above her by well over a foot. She was short, five-foot-four. Catman had to be over six and a half feet tall.

  “Try to walk. My truck is this way.” This time she gave a gentle tug on his arm. Please don’t fall on me.

  He lurched toward the truck. Bethany helped him along, encouraged by the fact that the more steps he took the more balance he seemed to regain. By the time she got him there and had opened the back door of the crew cab, he stood steadier. The overhead lamp came on and gave off enough light for her to see him swipe at his face with one hand to push his long hair away from his eyes.

  “Climb in, hurry. Lie down on the seat. I’ll get you home.”

  She placed her palm flat against his broad back to urge him to move faster. The dogs were almost to the fence. He crawled into the truck and used his hands to pull his upper body along the seat while he stepped up on the running board. The soles of his boots were wider than the top of the metal step. Once he was inside, Bethany almost shut the door, but stopped just in time when she noticed his tail hanging out the opening.

  “You forgot something,” she muttered and grabbed the middle section. In her haste, she gave it a firm shove to anchor it between his thighs. He hissed nastily, and she jumped back. “And don’t hiss at me! I’m trying to save your damn ass.” And your tail.

  She slammed the door, then jumped into the driver’s seat as fast as she could, put the truck in gear and took off down the road. After a few yards, she turned down a wide sendero, which led to the main road. The tall brush on each side of the mowed pathway provided much needed cover and made it impossible for Caleb or his ranch hands to see her truck. As an extra precaution, she flipped off the one working headlight and prayed no one had seen them. Starlight would have to suffice.

  The locals weren’t too trusting, and they made no secret of their dislike for the Alliance. Bethany figured she was one of a handful of residents who had an open mind about the aliens. To her way of thinking, they existed. They were so far advanced over humans it was almost unimaginable. So if they came in peace and didn’t want to rape the planet or eat the inhabitants she was okay with them. Sadly, there were organized groups all over the world who didn’t think the way she did.

  Many of the protesters were urged by religious fanatics, who deemed all the off-worlders to be demons from the pits of hell, or whatever, who were sent to devour human souls and prey on virginal women at the same time. Bethany had to laugh at some of their claims sometimes when she watched them rant on television, but she realized it was foolhardy to dismiss them outright. Like an idea or a mob, they could be dangerous.

  Another group hit far closer to home. The Purists hated the aliens simply because they weren’t human. To them, close didn’t count. They wanted to cleanse the planet of all alien infestation. If you weren’t a true homo sapien, born and bred on Earth, then they wanted you gone or dead. According to Caleb, dead was preferable.

  Bethany had good reason to be cautious. John Clayton gave his foreman free rein when it came to his sixty-thousand-acre spread. The only town near all the ranches was small. There was a grocery store, a couple bars, a post office and an abandoned stone church, and old man Clayton owned it all. So whatever Caleb wanted, Caleb got.

  Bethany avoided the town at all costs. She packed in all her supplies, and tried to stay to herself. There were two entities she couldn’t ban from her property—the Texas game warden and border patrol. Unfortunately, state law gave them the right to come onto her land at any time. If she could stop them, she would. They made her nervous since the two officers had a tendency to leer. The United States were still united, but the government had joined the New World Organization. Individual states were charged with the job of regulating their own citizens.

  If it weren’t for her own ranch foreman, she didn’t know what she’d do. Juan had been on the ranch since her father had bought it thirty years ago. A few years shy of sixty now, he was still going strong, and she knew it’d be impossible for her to survive there without him. Thought of him jarred her memory. He’d planned to deliver feed and corn tomorrow afternoon. Her problems were multiplying faster than she could do the math. Bethany had to figure out what to do with the alien before he arrived.

  At the moment, she didn’t know if she was more frightened by the sounds the big alien made or irritated by them. It was hard to tell. He was different, not like the cat she’d seen on the televised report. That one had been tall, but he’d also looked much leaner and smaller than the one in her truck. Her catman was huge, and from what little she’d felt, his body bristled with muscles.

  She risked taking her gaze off the road to glance over her shoulder and check on him. He’d been silent for a while. His outline was hard to make out in the darkness. He was half sitting on the seat, face pushed into the fresh air that blew in through the right-side passenger window as he gazed out at the dark scenery. A pang of sympathy struck her. She figured she should at least offer an apology. Maybe he’d talk to her.

  “I’m sorry I hit you with my truck.”

  He didn’t move or respond. He just remained in the same position. It occurred to her that maybe he didn’t understand what she’d said. She’d just assumed that since the other aliens were able to speak several of Earth’s languages he would too.

  Unsure of what she should do next, Bethany focused on the road. The barn light up ahead meant they were close to her house. She slowed to make the turn into the front yard and made a mental note to close the gate later or in the morning. His rich, velvety voice startled her.

  “You helped me, little female. Thank you.”

  He speaks English? She missed the gate post by inches.

  “Uh, sure, no problem. Sorry,” Beth
any responded. She cleared her throat and tried to keep the conversation going. “You have blood on your chest. Are you still bleeding?”

  “Not mine. Two four-legged creatures attacked me. Their blood stinks.”

  “The dogs? You hurt them?”

  “They led humans to the crash. They had weapons. I killed them and ran.”

  Bethany hit the brakes and slid to an abrupt stop in her front yard. She whipped around and glared at the alien. “You killed the humans?”

  “No. The dog creatures. Others chased me. I climbed over a tall wire barrier. You knocked me down.”

  “Oh, okay.” Oh, god, Bethany. It’s not okay. Get a grip. She tried again. “Well…how do you feel right now?”

  “Dizzy. My head hurts. I am bruised.”

  “So the blood on your chest is from the dogs?”

  “Yes,” he answered with a harsh groan.

  Bethany didn’t want to know how he killed them, and she hoped he wouldn’t share.

  “Okay then, we should get inside before someone sees you. Do you think you can walk?”

  In the dim light he nodded dazedly. Bethany pulled the truck as close to her front porch as possible before she turned off the engine. For once, she was glad she’d forgotten to leave the porch light on.

  Chapter Three

  Moments earlier

  A bright light roused him and he groaned. The pain in his head was worse now, but he ignored it. He was flat on his back on the hard ground. A human female spoke to him. She told him to get up. Although the feminine tone sounded fretful and urgent, he understood she wanted to help him.

  Vren rolled to his side in an effort to obey. She tried to assist, but when she looped her arm around his and pulled, his bruised muscles protested. Instinctively, he growled in response to the pain. Despite the fact his nose was inundated with the smell of smoke and chemicals from the crash, he scented a brief burst of fear from the female. No doubt, he’d scared her. It was regrettable. He hadn’t meant to frighten her.

 

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