by Zara Zenia
I wondered what she was doing now. It was obvious that she hated me. Was she on the phone to the cops? Telling them about what I'd done. Or was she simply contemplating my betrayal, telling herself that I was a scumbag?
At least I could revel in the knowledge that I had completed my mission. Usually, after a mission, I would relax with a drink and feel my chest swell with pride knowing that I had done something extraordinary. But I didn't feel like that at all. My celebratory drink felt more like I was drowning my sorrows, or attempting to anyway.
I kept thinking about the fear in her eyes and the way she looked horrified at what I'd done. I'll never forget the anger on her face as she told me to leave her alone or the desperation in her voice as she collapsed in the desert. Nothing had hurt more than knowing she was so afraid of me that she'd rather walk herself to death under the blazing heat of the sun than spend another second with me. It stung more than the whiskey did. It made me feel as though I could curl up and let the pain smother me whole until there was nothing left of me. I was a terrible person, the worst, but the most surprising thing was that this was the first time I had felt like this and a lifetime of remorse and heartache was catching up with me.
She was just a human girl, a pawn in the game I was playing, so why did I feel like this? It was then, I as rolled onto my side and stared at the empty sun lounger that I realized how much I missed her. I really did fall in love with her, I wasn't pretending at all. All those times I had looked into her eyes in an attempt to feign rapport were real, I did adore her. I did hang on her every word. If only she could somehow know how sorry I was.
Unable to take the pain anymore, I ventured back inside and stood in front of the bathroom mirror. Looking into my own eyes, it felt like staring into the soul of a stranger.
"Who are you, Draygus?" I asked myself as I leaned forward against the sink. "What have you done?"
No matter how much I tried to gain some perspective on the situation, I couldn't stop thinking about Anya and how much I hurt her. Then my mind wandered to her perfect face and slender body and the way she had gripped me so tightly when I brought her to orgasm. What I would do to be able to hold her again. But she never wanted to see me again, she made that perfectly clear. My knuckles were starting to bruise from when she'd battered them with the letterbox, but I'd let her hurt me as much as she wanted. She could hit me a hundred times a day for all I cared, anything to see her again.
Splashing my face with cold water, I took a deep breath and patted my face dry.
"Why did you have to fall for a human girl?" I asked myself as I stared at my reflection. "You had all the Orban girls back home, hundreds of them. They let you do whatever you wanted to them and left them satisfied, but you always protected your heart, kept it locked up in a cage so no one could touch it. Why Anya? What gave her the key?"
I left the bathroom with a heavy heart and dropped onto the bed. Rolling over onto my back, I stared up at the opulent ceiling and thought about how much I loved the penthouse when I first acquired it, but now it was little more than a place to house my misery. It meant nothing now. The luxury, the beautiful furnishings, I could now see, in hindsight, that it was all to impress Anya. It meant little to me now, an Orban in a human home. Why should I care that the sheets had a high thread count of Egyptian cotton and the bathtub was lifted down through the ceiling?
Suddenly, I hated the place. It was as hollow and empty as all the other lies I'd told her, things I'd wished I never said. Kicking off my jeans, I pulled the covers up over me and shrouded myself in the darkness, but all I could think of was her face.
The worst part was, I kept thinking about her in connection to the mission. She was a witness to everything and saw what I'd done. If she was anyone else, I would have killed her. But now someone else could kill her. They'd find her soon enough and know she helped me break into the facility and what then? Would they torture her for information? It was one thing breaking her heart, but it was another leaving her open to violence. I had to persuade her to talk to me again. If she wanted to live, there was no other option.
Chapter 14
Anya
A night had passed and still, no one had come for me. Surely, they had noticed I wasn't in the office, but who knew what was happening over there. Since I returned home, I'd scanned the news channels every hour looking for the story, but so far nothing was being reported, which begged the question, why? Did the facility want to cover up the break-in to stop media sensationalism and public panic? Or was there something bigger going on?
I sat on the sofa, my cat, Sophie, beside me, and nibbled on the edge of a cheese sandwich as I tried to force myself to eat. It had been impossible to feel normal and anything red, reminded me of the man's blood. Everything made me feel sick and nothing could stop the memories from taking over my mind. Feeling as though I was close to throwing up again, I placed the sandwich back on the plate and watched as Sophie sniffed at it. A moment later she was licking up the mayonnaise and purring as she ate.
"You're a strange girl," I said as I petted her. "I never knew you liked sandwiches."
She purred some more before pushing the front of her head against my hand.
"You want to come sit on my lap?" I asked even though I knew well enough she couldn't answer.
She padded onto my legs and nestled into my stomach, her purring getting louder and louder. Then it stopped. Her ears pricked up and her pupils dilated.
"What's the matter, sweetheart?" I asked her as I rubbed the thick fur on her chest.
She glanced behind her, her eyes widening as she heard something I couldn't.
"Sophie? Is there something wrong?"
Jumping off my lap and onto the floor she dashed up the stairs, mewing as she ran. A second later, there was the sound of knocking on the front door. I flinched and hit the ground, terrified that whoever it was could see me through the window. Was it the police? Or worse, was it Dray?
"Anya?"
It was Dray.
His voice sounded desperate and scared.
"Anya, please. I know you're in there."
Gingerly, I approached the door and pressed my back up against it.
"I have my phone in my hand," I lied. "I'm calling the cops right now. I'll hand myself in and make sure they get you too."
"No! Please... Just open the door."
"Go to hell!"
"Anya!"
He stopped knocking and fell silent. The sound of my breath began to consume me as it sped up. Upstairs, Sophie nervously scratched the side of the bed. Behind me, I heard shuffling on the other side of the front door. Dray was sliding down to sit on the porch, his leather jacket creaking as he moved.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Sitting. Thinking. Just waiting for you to open the door."
"I won't do it. You can't make me."
"I don't want to make you do anything," he said. "But I want to talk to you and it's urgent. I'm not leaving. I'll wait here all night if I have to."
"You'll be waiting a lot longer than all night," I said. "Make yourself comfortable."
Heading into the kitchen, I got myself a tall glass of water and took a small sip in an attempt to calm down. Since the last time I saw him, I had been nervous about everything. It was like my thoughts had been spiraling out of control and my nerves were taking over my body, making me afraid of the slightest noise.
Sitting back down against the door, I held the cool glass up against my cheek and sighed.
"You need to go, Dray. I won't ask you again."
He took a deep breath and tapped his foot against the top step.
"The truth is that I can't go. I can't leave you. I'm in danger, Anya, and so are you. We need to stick together."
"I'm not sticking with you!"
"Listen, please. I can explain everything. Last night must have been terrifying for you but I'm not a bad person. I'm really not. I'm a normal guy mixed up in a complicated situation but I can't tell you about it if you d
on't let me in."
"You can tell me from out there," I said. "Go on, talk to me."
"No," he said. "It's too dangerous."
"Nice try," I groaned.
He was silent for a moment, fiddling with something metallic in his hand that I couldn't identify. Down the street, I could hear one of the neighbors returning home from work and being greeted by his children on the front lawn. Ordinary people who shouldn't have to live within a stone's throw of this madness. I wondered how many other houses on this street harbored a secret like mine.
Dray cleared his throat and coughed before saying:
"The truth is... The truth is... My whole life is a secret. A dangerous secret and I'd like to tell you all about it."
"You make yourself sound like James Bond," I laughed.
"Who's James Bond?" he asked.
"Are you serious?"
He didn't respond.
"So you have a secret," I said. "So what? Why should I hear it?"
"Because it'll shed some light on everything, show you what really happened. It'll make you think I'm not such a bad guy."
"I doubt it," I scoffed. "My mind's made up about you. You're a murderer, a liar, a criminal. You used me."
He sighed and hit the back of his head off the door in frustration.
"Yes, all that is true, but there is so much more to me. I am not the culmination of my actions. I am so much more than that. You need to let me in Anya. The clock is ticking. Whatever happens, whether we see each other again or not, we don't have much time left. But we're bonded. You know that don't you? We're bonded by our circumstances, by what happened back there, by the danger we're in. No matter what happens, we will always be inextricably linked by disaster, by death, by our memories of the facility."
I pinched the bridge of my nose as a headache began to sweep across my head. There were too many thoughts running through my mind, too many contradictions. My mind was telling me to bolt the door and call the police. My mind was telling me that I should have bought a gun when I had the chance. But my gut was telling me to open the door. If nothing else, it was the curiosity of hearing about what this secret was.
"Okay, fine. You better come in," I said as I stood up to open the door. "But touch me once and you're a dead man."
"You need to tell me what I'm up against," I said as I handed him a coffee.
"I will. I'll tell you everything but first, you need to sit down. This is going to come as a shock to you."
He smiled as Sophie approached, but looked nervous as she watched him suspiciously.
"She's easily afraid, isn't she?" he asked as he reached out a hand for her to sniff only to watch her run away and scurry beneath the sofa.
"No. She's never been afraid of anyone before. She must smell something on you."
He looked uneasy and took a tentative sip of his coffee before holding the hot cup between his hands.
"I'm not from here," he began. "I come from somewhere far away."
Leaning forward on his knees, he attempted to hold my hand, but I pulled away, pushing myself up against the opposite end of the couch. He swallowed and gave me a sorrowful look.
"Anya, you worked at the facility for a long time, didn't you? So, you know the vastness of space."
It seemed like an irrelevant question but I nodded anyway.
"So, you know that it's possible there's life out there."
Again, I nodded.
"It's possible," I said. "But not proven."
"Where I'm from, it has been proven. We all know who resides amongst the stars and who inhabits the most hostile of planets. We know everything. In fact, where I'm from, it is common to travel between the planets and work in different galaxies. It is not too dissimilar to traveling in between Earthen countries."
I took a long breath and looked into his eyes. It appeared that he was deadly serious, with his unwavering gaze focused on mine.
"You're out of your Goddamn mind," I said. "Are you fucking serious?"
"Deadly serious?" he said with an affirmative nod. "I've seen it all; been everywhere. Tell me, Anya. Have you heard of a planet called Orba?"
I shook my head and glanced over at the door wondering how long it would take for me to make an escape.
"People from Orba are called Orbans and do you know what else?"
Chewing on my thumbnail, I couldn't bear the thought of what other crazy bullshit he was about to say. The man was obviously insane. He was a conspiracy nut all along, a murderous one who was obsessed with aliens.
"I'm an Orban," he said and I felt as though my stomach was about to bottom out. "I'm an alien, Anya and there are people here on Earth looking for me. Palzu, he's a-"
"Get the hell outta my house!"
I jumped to my feet and attempted to drag him up by the collar of his jacket but he was too heavy.
"Get out! You're freakin' crazy!"
"I'm not! Please, listen to me. You need to believe me!"
"How am I supposed to believe a word you say. You told me you loved me! You told me everything about this obviously fictional life of yours and now you're breaking the news that you're an alien! Do you think I'm an idiot?"
Exhausted from my attempt at lifting him, I collapsed back on the couch and angrily hurled a pillow at him.
"An alien! Really? Do you know how mental you sound?"
"I understand it's a lot to process," he calmly nodded as he straightened out your jacket. "It'll be a big deal for someone like you."
"Someone like me?"
"A human... A girl who spent her working life looking up to the skies but never seeing a single speck of life. Humans have so much to learn with space travel. You are so behind the rest of the universe. In time you will learn, many in your lifetime, but until then, you have to believe what I say. I'm a superior being. I understand more than you."
"A superior being?" I gasped and slapped my forehead. "Okay, let me get this straight. I'm supposed to believe that you work for the government, you bought that luxury penthouse, you've killed so many people that you can't remember, your part of an intergalactic conspiracy, you're an alien and that you are also a superior being?"
He furrowed his brow in thought for a moment.
"Yes, that's exactly it. Although let me put some things straight. I do work for the military, but not on Earth. I stole the penthouse. Sorry about that. And my name isn't Dray."
My eyes widened as I realized I'd been conned yet again.
"Let me guess. Your name is actually Glarphex or something?"
"It's Draygus," he explained while reaching for his coffee. "But I've always liked the sound of Dray."
An eerie silence descended on the house as I tried to think through everything he had said. At last, I decided I couldn't handle him being near me and rose to open the door.
"Please leave," I said and gestured out into the garden.
"Don't, Anya," he said as he reached out toward me. "Please, you have to believe me, not because I miss you and feel bad for everything I did, but because you're in danger. Whether you still love me or not, you still need my protection."
"I don't need shit from you!" I spat.
"But that agent back there, the one I killed. There'll be dozens of them scouring the countryside for you. You're lucky they haven't found you already. I've killed four of them in the last week. They're like ants. They're seemingly invisible, but they come out of nowhere and leave a trail of devastation. I won't let them find you. You have to come with me."
All I could do was hold my head in my hands.
"Everything you're saying is the craziest thing I've ever heard!"
"I know, I know."
He placed his hands on my arms to calm me.
"But you have to believe me. Think about the agent. He didn't look human to you, did he? There was something strange about him, something you knew straight away was peculiar."
I think back to the moment I saw his eyes and how they were a color I'd never seen before. I thought about the wa
y he smelled, similar to Dray, unfamiliar, yet not unpleasant. I thought about the gun he pointed at me, the slender piece of technology that looked like no gun I knew.
"You're starting to realize. I know you are," Dray said as he shook me slightly.
I dropped my head as I resigned myself to believing him.
"You're right, I think. He was an alien and... so are you."
Tears sprang to my eyes and he pulled me into a hug. As I caught my breath, I pushed him away.
"But so what if you are. You're an alien, a murderous alien but that doesn't mean I'm coming with you."
"Anya! Please!"
"No."
I turned my back to him.
"Please leave."
"You need me, Anya."
"No, I don't. The best thing for me is to get as far away from you as possible. You're a nightmare and you've gotten me into all this trouble. If what you said about the agents is true, then they'll be out here looking for a chance to kill me and it's all your fault!"
He lowered his head shamefully and rubbed his fingers across his forehead.
"I did a terrible thing," he uttered. "I should never have dragged you into this. You're too nice, too fragile, too beautiful. You're so loving and trusting. I knew that the moment I saw you. I could sense the innocence in you but still, I went ahead with the mission."
"The mission?"
Suddenly it was all falling into place. I knew he'd used me, but I never, for once, realized the magnitude of his betrayal.
"How long were you watching me?" I asked.
He shuffled nervously from foot to foot.
"How long!"
Across the road, the neighbors were starting to turn on their lights as their heard my yelling. He noticed and pulled the door closed before quietly muttering:
"Over a month."
The tears began to spill down my cheeks.
"So that night at the club, it wasn't a chance meeting?"
