by Lauryn April
I stared out the window as dark clouds rolled in and a soft rumble of thunder echoed in the distance. The wind whipped leaves around on the sidewalk below. It looked like it was about to pour.
“I’m just nervous about Friday,” I said.
Logan came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
I tilted my head back to look at him. I smiled, but inside I wondered if that were true.
A crack of lightning, purple and white, lit up the sky, turning the black to blue and illuminating the clouds from the inside out. Moments after, another burst erupted. It seemed to appear out of the remaining glow of the storm clouds, but this burst wasn’t a long stream of lightning, it was a fat round ball glowing with orange light. Smoke spiraled out from it, the ashes mixing with the grey clouds.
It fell to earth.
I don’t know if the ground really shook or if I imagined it, but I grabbed Logan’s arm to steady myself as the fireball crashed into Moody’s Woods.
“What the hell was that, a meteor?”
When I looked at Logan his expression was blank, eyes wide, and face pale. He exhaled through his nose, then turned to me.
“No, that was something else.” He walked away from the window, grabbed my jacket off the bed, and threw it at me. “Come on, we have to go.”
I had to run to keep up with Logan as he raced across the backyard and into Moody’s Woods. The rumbling of thunder warned that the clouds were ready to pour down on us at any second. He ignored them. Logan grabbed my hand. We dodged around trees, moving deeper into the forest.
The wind thrashed my hair around, knocking strands into my face. Thunder boomed overhead.
“Logan, what are we doing?” I yelled over the whipping noise of the wind.
He slowed, but it didn’t seem to be because of my question. Logan stopped, let go of my hand, and turned around. “I’m not sure exactly which way it is,” he said.
“Why are we running toward it?”
Logan turned to me. “I’ve only seen something like that once before. It was a video my mom had of some old news report. They called it a meteor, but that’s not what it was. It was our ship crashing to earth.”
My eyes went wide.
“Payton, there might be others like me out here, people that escaped…my dad maybe.”
Even as I looked into his eyes I could tell he knew it was a long shot, but there was still hope there, and I couldn’t break it. Logan looked around again, scanning the woods. He squinted into the darkness. Another burst of lightning lit the sky, but it did little to show the way.
“Here.” Logan handed me his glasses. “I see better like this.”
I watched as he bowed his head and pulled his contacts out of his eyes. They fell to the ground. When Logan looked back at me his eyes were solid black. Another strike of lightning hit, the purple and white light reflecting in his glossy black eyes. Seeing Logan like that was eerie. For a moment my breath caught in my throat. It was easy to forget where Logan was from, but seeing him like that, I was instantly reminded that technically Logan was an alien.
Logan frowned, probably worried he’d freaked me out. I did my best to wipe away whatever look was on my face, and I reached out to take his hand. He smiled, and then we were running through the forest again.
CHAPTER
25
Fallen trees led the way, their trunks ripped in half. Grounded tree tops pointed to where smoke billowed around the surviving foliage. An orange light glowed beyond the smoke, and the fire became sharper as we neared. The rain had started to lightly fall, pattering on my head and shoulders. It added steam to our smoky surroundings.
Cautiously Logan and I stepped over the debris from the crashed ship. Reflective metal shined through the scorched pine needles and broken branches. I could hear noises up ahead, a crackling fire and the low drone of some kind of engine. I gulped and grabbed Logan’s hand. We shouldn’t be out here, I thought, but what if his father was on that ship? What if he was still alive?
A long, wide trench had been dug into the earth when the ship crashed. Logan and I walked around it. We came to the edge of a small valley. The earth sloped down. At the bottom sat a tangled mass of smoking black metal. The trees nearest it were encased in flames, and the ground was scorched.
A pained screech ripped through the air. It sounded like some kind of dying animal. Logan pulled me close. Within the ship a light flickered. Then a door opened, releasing brilliant white light to mingle with the smoke and ash. Within it a shadow emerged. Logan took a step forward as the figure moved.
Slowly it came into view.
I gasped.
It wasn’t human. It was a Grey. Its bulbous head was bleeding, oozing some kind of black goo from a cut along the top, and its large black eyes looked around at the wreckage that surrounded it. It looked disoriented and shaky, but frightening at the same time.
Logan pulled me back. “Shit.”
Bewildered, the creature took a few more steps into the open. More shadows appeared behind it. More Greys emerged.
“Payton, we have to go.”
As we turned to leave, my eyes met with the oversized black disks of the alien at the bottom of the valley. It looked straight at me, then pointed one spindly grey finger at us.
“Now, run, now!”
Logan grabbed my hand. Squeezing tight he dragged me through the woods. My heart was beating wildly, my breath erratic. Are they following us? Will they catch us? What would we do then? I nearly tripped over a branch, but Logan’s firm grip on my hand propelled me forward. We’d assumed the ship had been stolen by the rebels; we didn’t even think it might be owned by the Greys. We’d been so stupid, and now they were following us.
The smoke started to fade. I was having an easier time not tripping over the debris, but it was then, just as I started to think we were getting away, that I had something brand new to worry about.
“Stop,” a man’s voice shouted.
Logan and I came to a screeching halt. A man, wearing a white plastic suit and hood, stepped out in front of us. His suit looked like the kind forensic scientists wear on TV when there’s some kind of chemical spill.
He held a gun, pointed it at us. The rain, falling harder now, pattered against the plastic of his suit. Behind him two more men followed, both of them armed. I held my hands up and glanced at Logan, hoping he had some idea of what to do.
As the quaking feeling in my belly grew, I felt a trembling beneath my feet. Greys were behind us, possibly some kind of government agency held us at gunpoint, there was no way out. We were probably going to die. The ground continued to shake, then the tiny pieces of metal debris I’d seen scattered across the forest floor started to float. They lifted from the ground and hovered around us as if they’d been frozen in a photograph.
Logan turned to me. “Payton, calm down,” he said, but it didn’t help.
I was making the debris float. My nerves and fear had triggered my telekinesis, and I was too wound up to calm down. Rain drops filtered between the tiny shards of metal that hung, filling the space between us and the men in white.
Ever so slightly the men lowered their weapons as they stared awestruck at the floating debris. This was so bad. These men had seen me make a field of shrapnel float, and I was sure they’d seen Logan’s eyes as well. The man out front turned, glancing back at one of the men behind him. Then in the distance, I heard a noise. I glanced over my shoulder. Logan looked back as well. We couldn’t see them yet, but they were coming.
When I turned back, Logan’s hand reached toward the men in white. Their guns flew from their hands, two of them falling at Logan’s feet and one landing in his grasp. One of the men stumbled back. Another tripped, grabbing onto the first, who stood too stunned to move. Logan spun around just in time to see two of the Greys emerge from the woods. He fired.
I flinched, hearing the loud pops of the gun. I think Logan might have too. He didn’t look the most familiar wi
th a gun. But as the sound reverberated in my ears, I saw the Greys stumble and collapse. Were they really dead? Could it have been that easy? They were injured and we had taken them by surprise.
Logan dropped the gun. It landed with a squishy thud at our feet. His hand, wet and cold, grabbed mine. We ran. The tiny, and not so tiny, pieces of the broken ship floated around us. They moved out of the way as we rushed by, parting like the red sea. The rain fell harder now. My feet sloshed in the quickly forming puddles, cool drops pelting against my skin, soaking my clothes. I glanced over my shoulder to see the men in white picking up their weapons and investigating the Greys. Knowing no one was following us, I took a few deep breaths and closed my eyes. As my nerves calmed, the shrapnel started to fall. A whimsical tinkering, like wind chimes, mixed with the sounds of the storm as the pieces clinked together before landing on the forest floor.
By the time we made it out of the woods I was soaked, and all of my muscles felt like they were on fire. My shoes were filled with water, and I slipped in the grass as we raced toward Logan’s back door. I kept looking over my shoulder, glancing back at the shadows between the trees, but there was nothing behind us.
Logan slammed the back door shut as we rushed into the kitchen. I crossed my arms, shivering. He stared out into the night, watching and waiting for something to find us. After what seemed like an hour, but was probably only a few minutes, Logan turned around. He rushed forward and wrapped his arms around me. Even though we were both cold and shaking, having his arms around me made me feel warm.
“It’s okay, no one’s out there. We’re safe.” Logan pulled away. His black eyes looked me over. My teeth started to chatter, and he kissed the top of my forehead. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”
I followed Logan to the bathroom, a small blue room with seashell décor and single-person shower. He left to get me a towel, and I stared at myself in the mirror, waiting for him to return. My hair was a matted mess, wavy from the rain and dirty from the smoke. Soot coated my face in a thin film. Mud clung to the bottom of my jeans. I kicked off my soaked sneakers and unzipped my jacket, dropping it to the floor. There was a soft knock at the door. Logan walked in. He’d put a new pair of contacts in, but hadn’t put his glasses back on.
Logan’s movements were fidgety when he walked in. He held a large, fluffy towel and a small pile of folded clothes. Setting them on the counter, he went to the shower.
“The um, the dial got put on backwards, so hot is cold, and cold is hot.”
He turned the water on and adjusted it until it must have felt like a good temperature. Turning back to me, he thrust his hands into his wet pockets.
“I um, grabbed you a few of my things, you know, just so you’ll have something dry to wear.”
I nodded.
Logan looked me up and down, then he pulled me into a hug, and I buried my face in his wet shirt.
“Are you okay?” he asked, pulling away and pushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
His gaze wavered. I could tell he didn’t want to leave me, even if it was just so I could shower.
“Well, I’ll let you get cleaned up,” he said, but he didn’t move. Instead his knuckles lightly slid across my cheek. Then he leaned in and kissed me.
I kissed back and Logan pulled me tight against him. Maybe it was because I was soaked to the bone, or that we’d just been running for our lives through the woods, but something about that kiss felt so much more important. I needed it somehow. My hands slid across his back and beneath his shirt. His skin was wet and clammy. All I could think was that he needed to take his shirt off. I pulled at the heavy fabric of his long sleeve tee, sliding my hands up his sides as I lifted. After a moment our kiss broke so he could pull it the rest of the way off. It fell to the floor with a wet flop. My eyes skimmed Logan’s shirtless chest, catching only a glimpse of his lean form before he kissed me again.
The sound of water hitting the shower floor filled the small bathroom. The mirror grew foggy with steam, and as Logan leaned into me he pushed me against the edge of the counter. Feeling the ceramic tile against my back, I lifted myself to sit on the counter and wrapped my legs around his waist.
Logan pulled back. He leaned his forehead against mine, his breath as steamy as the air around us. I, however, was still freezing. Despite how warm I felt on the inside, my clothes were still soaked and my teeth were chattering. Logan’s hands gripped my hips, but as he watched me trying to keep my teeth from cracking against one another, he sighed and pulled back farther.
“I should let you get warmed up, I’ll just–”
My lips crashed against his. I didn’t care if I was dying from hypothermia. I didn’t want to stop. Logan got the hint and it was obvious he shared in my enthusiasm, but he still hadn’t forgotten that I was freezing. He picked me up off the counter, lifting me effortlessly. My arms wrapped around his neck and my ankles crossed behind his back. Logan twisted us around and walked us beneath the shower. Our kiss broke as hot water poured over our heads. The fabric of my clothes clung to my skin, weighing me down. I squinted with the unexpected distraction, but was grateful for the warmth of the water.
Logan set me on my feet. I arched into him. His hands found their way beneath my shirt. My eyes met his and I lifted my arms. After a moment’s hesitation he lifted my shirt up. The wet fabric stuck to my arms and took a moment to pull free, but soon it fell to the floor with a splat. This was a step farther than we’d gone in the past. Logan’s eyes scanned over me, tracing over my swollen lips and the curves of my pink and white polka dot bra.
Logan let out a low sigh. Then he was kissing me again, his hands running up my bare back and pulling me tight against him. Our bodies were flush against one another, skin against skin. He kissed me deeply as we grinded against one another. I backed until my back was against the shower wall, and Logan’s lips trailed down my neck.
There was a knock at the door.
It took a moment for the sound to register, but when I heard Logan’s mom’s voice through the door, we abruptly pulled apart. Logan held a finger to his lips and turned off the water.
“Logan?” Linda’s voice called again.
“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute, Mom.”
“Okay, well when you’re done meet me in the kitchen. I’m home from work early because something happened today that we should talk about.”
“Okay,” Logan called back. We stood still and silent for the next few moments.
Logan let out a long sigh. He kissed me one last time, then stepped out of the shower. Feeling chilly again, I crossed my arms over my chest. Logan threw me the fluffy towel he’d left on the counter.
“What do we do now?” I whispered.
Logan walked to the bathroom door and peeked his head out. “Grab your things, come on.”
Logan helped me gather our drenched clothing as well as the dry shirt and pants he brought me. We sneaked out of the bathroom and into his room. He shut his door behind us and handed me the dry clothes.
“I’m going to get dressed, and you can wear those. When we’re both ready, I’ll sneak you out.”
I nodded and watched Logan walk across the room. He went to his dresser, where he pulled out dry clothes for himself and turned his back. I watched him until he started to unbutton his jeans, then I turned my back as well and began peeling the rest of my wet clothes from my body. They sloshed to the floor. I quickly dressed in the sweat pants and t-shirt Logan had lent me.
Glancing over my shoulder, I saw him pulling his shirt over his head. I turned away and set to lacing up my sneakers. They were still uncomfortably wet, but I didn’t have any other option. I picked up my wet clothes and turned around to see Logan standing behind me. He offered a wan smile, then lightly kissed me.
We sneaked downstairs after that. I moved as quietly as I could, but still my wet shoes squeaked with every step. When we came to the bottom of the stairs Logan walked into the entranceway of the ki
tchen. He said hi to his mom, then glanced back at me.
“Come, sit down,” Linda said. “There was another crash today.”
“You don’t say?” Logan said.
He turned to me and waved for me to go. As I dashed to the front door I watched Logan step into the kitchen where his mom had her back turned to grab a couple of mugs from the cabinet. I quietly pulled the front door open and slipped outside. As I slid the door shut behind me, I sighed in relief and jogged across the street.
I was anxious to know what Logan’s mom had to tell him, especially after what’d happened to us in the woods. I wondered if the men who’d spotted us were looking for us. I wondered if the Greys from the ship had escaped or maybe they’d been taken away to some government research facility to be experimented on. I also wondered if Linda had any suspicions about our serious make-out session.
When I got home I took another shower, one where I actually spent time getting clean. Then I got ready for bed. I attempted to do some homework while waiting for Logan to call, but all the while I kept replaying images from earlier in the night. First, there were the frightful memories from finding the crashed ship, the Greys and their eyes, and the men with guns, but it didn’t take long for my thoughts to shift to things with Logan.
Things had gotten hot and heavy tonight. We hadn’t even been officially dating a week, but I felt closer to Logan than any of the guys I’d dated in the past. Everything with him felt so much more real. Though Jared and I had never actually had sex, we had come close a few times. But every time things had gotten extra steamy I had this feeling it just wasn’t right, that I didn’t like him enough to go all the way. I didn’t have that feeling with Logan. Not that I was ready to have sex, at least I didn’t think I was. Just that if I were ready, I think I’d like for my first time to be with Logan.
An hour passed before I heard from him, then finally my phone rang. I rushed to my bedroom window as I answered it. Logan stood in his window as well and waved at me from across the street.
