by Fall, Carly
“Don’t say anything! I don't want him to know!” Annis hissed, then she yelled, “I’m coming, Cohen!”
Blake sat behind the bar for another minute to make sure the room was clear.
Annis was pregnant.
The knowledge felt like someone had taken an electric drill to his heart and had the thing set to high. Yes, Annis and Cohen were together, but apparently somewhere deep within him he thought that maybe, just maybe, in some distant time, Annis would be his.
A child growing within her—one that Cohen and she had created—just seemed to seal the deal that Annis would never be with him, that she would always belong to Cohen, whether she kept the child or not.
He turned his attention back to the array of bottles, deciding on his favorite whiskey. Standing, he made a beeline for the kitchen, hoping to once again avoid everyone. As he waited for the elevator, he heard footsteps behind him, and turned to see Killian.
“Hi, Blake,” he said. The kid pronounced his name "Bwake."
“Hey.”
“Can you get me a cookie?”
Usually, Blake would just get the kid a cookie and then leave him be. However, he heard more footsteps coming down the hall, and the door to the elevator opened. As he stepped inside, he said, “Sorry, kid. Gotta run.”
As the door shut, he heard Beverly say, “Come eat dinner, Killian.”
Leaning against the elevator wall, he pressed his thumb on the four button, hoping the elevator wouldn’t stop before his floor.
He really didn’t like kids, and he really, really hated the fact that Annis was pregnant. Tears stung his eyes as he unscrewed the bottle. Yes, it just seemed so final now. Annis was completely unattainable. He took a long pull, the auburn liquid burning the whole way down. He hoped it would set fire to the pain he felt for so long as far as Annis was concerned, but also the pain from his drug problem, burning it to ash.
Chapter 11
Sophia rubbed aloe vera on Megan’s sunburn, silently cursing herself. Why hadn’t she put suntan lotion on the girl? They had worked in the garden most of the day, and Sophia should have realized that Megan’s pale skin would burn. She just didn’t think the sun was that hot, but she had been wrong. At least the burn wasn’t too bad.
She broke off another stem from the plant, squeezed out the liquid, and wiped it on Megan’s arms.
After harvesting the beans, they had picked the oranges from the trees. Sophia planned on squeezing them tomorrow for some fresh orange juice.
“Mama, is the world really as bad as Micah says?” Megan asked, looking at the white tile.
The question startled Sophia, as Megan had never doubted anything Micah said before, or at least she hadn’t said anything.
“Well, I think it’s in our best interest to trust him. I see no reason for him to mislead us,” she answered.
“But we don’t know for sure, Mama,” Megan said, turning toward her. “We’ve never seen outside this place. What if he’s lying?”
“Megan!” Sophia said. “Don’t call your father a liar!”
“But what if he is lying?” Megan continued. “What if there aren’t any Colonists? What if humans really do like us?”
Sophia sighed. It was both a blessing and a curse to have such an intelligent little girl. At age three, Megan was beginning to question everything, which was good in Sophia’s opinion. However, on the flip side of that coin, her critical-thinking skills sometimes melded together with her imagination and she concocted her own fantasies that took place in a perfect world.
“Megan, there is no reason for Micah to lie to us. The other members of the Platoon and Micah are out there every day fighting to protect us. Perhaps one day, when they win against the Colonists, it will be safe to leave our compound. Until then, we need to stay put. We’re safe here, Megan.”
The girl stared at Sophia a moment, and then got up from the kitchen table. “Okay, Mama,” she mumbled.
Sophia watched her walk down the hallway and listened to her bedroom door click shut.
There wasn’t any reason for Micah to lie to them. He had no reason to, and he was a good male, one of integrity.
Flashes of their trip to Earth came to her mind. Micah paced around the ship, terrorizing the other eleven SR44ians, screaming at the females that they would give him children. As she huddled on the floor, he yelled that their place would be to expand the SR44 race, which was exactly what she and the other females were put on the ship to do. Looking back on it, she blamed his behavior on the stress of going to an unknown world and the uncertainty of what they would encounter. It was all understandable.
After the fiery crash, the government had taken Micah away. When they met up with him again by the crash site, it was as if he realized he could lead effectively through firm kindness. She’d only seen him slip once, and that was when Beth, the other SR44 female, had committed suicide after mating with Jael. Micah had screamed and yelled about her traitorous behavior against the SR44 race.
She sighed, stood, and turned off the lights in the kitchen. Her brown glowing eyes lit the way down the hall to Megan’s room. Peeking in, she saw the girl curled up on her bed, fast asleep. Sophia smiled. A day out in the fresh air harvesting and weeding the garden had worn her out. Sophia made a mental note that tomorrow they would spend most of the day inside going over Megan’s studies.
As she stared at her daughter, she remembered when Micah had first brought Megan and her to this house after Beth’s suicide. When Sophia asked how Micah had procured the house for them, he had told her it wasn’t any of her concern. Beth had committed suicide when Megan was two, and Micah immediately moved Sophia and Megan out of that house. To this day, Sophia missed her friend and thought of her often as she worked in the garden as they had today.
She shut the door and went down the hall to her own room. Pulling out fresh pajamas, she slipped them on and got into bed. The quiet of being in the middle of nowhere could be eerie at times, as it was tonight, but it was much better than the mayhem Micah had described.
She hoped she was with child, as the thought of participating in the intimate act with Jael made her stomach curl. Micah would be returning tomorrow night for another mating ritual.
Her thoughts turned back to what Megan had said. Micah had taken care of them and protected them. There was no reason to for him to lie to them, and Sophia had no reason to believe he was not a worthy male.
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes. Focusing first on her feet, she flexed and then relaxed her muscles. She did the same to her calves, her thighs, and all the way up her torso. When she relaxed her facial muscles, her body was limp, and she was ready for her astral travels.
A low vibration hummed throughout her body as her spirit exited. She walked over to the door and looked back at her body, the long silver cord trailing behind her, tying her spirit to her corporeal form. She walked through the door, excited explore more of this world.
Chapter 12
Micah sat across the table from Daniel in a hideaway bar on the outskirts of Phoenix. While sipping his beer, he couldn’t believe he had aligned himself with this bastard, this Colonist.
Daniel glanced around the bar, checking out all the patrons. Even after seven months of working together, Daniel still didn’t trust him. Not that Micah cared.
“Are you satisfied that none of my fellow comrades are in the shadows ready to slit your throat?” Micah asked. Every time he and Daniel met, he was surprised by how normal Daniel looked. Brown hair, brown eyes, average build . . . there wasn’t anything fantastic or amazing about one of the universe’s greatest killers. In fact, if Micah didn’t know better, he’d peg him for some type of pencil-pusher who sat behind a desk all day. He’d met Daniel one night in downtown Phoenix as he searched for the Colonist and the half-breeds who enjoyed killing. They had fought, a brutal battle in an alleyway, and just as Micah was about to deliver the death blow to Daniel, it occurred to him that instead of killing him, Micah could use him. Daniel imm
ediately agreed to work for him in exchange for Micah sparing his life. Micah’s plan of using Daniel to round up the half-breeds came to fruition.
Daniel gave him something that looked like a smile but would be classified as a sneer. “Yes.”
“Can we get back to business now?”
“Of course.”
“Let’s talk about the Saviors, Daniel.”
Daniel’s hands curled into fists. “I want them dead.”
“As do I, Daniel, which is the reason we are working together and I don’t kill you.”
“Micah, don’t underestimate my ability to eviscerate you, which I will do if you don’t stop threatening me. As for the Saviors, I can get it done, but I need money. I need to harness the technological resources to find out where they live. Then, I will go there with my little army of psychopaths and we will gut each and every one of them, as well as the bitch Alaina.”
Micah nodded. It had been unfortunate that Daniel’s protégé, George, had been killed by the woman, but it hadn’t been that big of a surprise. George had been a loose cannon, one who became harder and harder to control. He had been told to simply watch the woman and that traitorous bastard Nico in the warehouse, but George had invented his own ideas on what should be done with them, and that was when he got himself killed. On the other hand, he had been an asset because he enjoyed murdering so much. Really, it was a toss up on whether his death fell on the side of good news or bad news.
Daniel’s little army of psychopaths was now Micah’s, but he didn’t correct the male. Daniel might be the one in charge of the half-breeds who embraced the evil flowing through them, but Micah was the driver on this bus. If someone had told him two hundred years ago that his closest alliance would be with a Colonist, he would have thrown them to the little dinosaur bastards that roamed the forest floors of SR44. His instincts told him to put a knife through Daniel’s forehead, but he held back. The relationship with Daniel was crucial to his plan.
“What technology would this money buy?” Micah asked, sipping his beer.
He half-listened as Daniel explained the computer programs to dig through the layers of legal entities the Saviors had buried themselves under. Daniel’s focus was laser-like on the Saviors, and Micah had no trouble believing the male had researched these computer programs forward and backward, looking for what would meet his needs and be the most successful.
“How much money is that all going to cost?” Micah asked.
“I’m thinking somewhere between ten and fifteen thousand.”
Micah let out a slow whistle. He didn’t have that type of cash lying around. “Seriously?”
Daniel nodded.
Micah glanced around the bar. A heavy-set man in a white tank top sat on a bar stool talking to the female bartender sucking on a cigarette. There was one other patron asleep in a booth. Micah wondered what these losers would do if they knew they were sharing space with aliens and one of the most magnificent killers ever to live.
He had no desire to steal the money—he needed to elevate himself above the law. Daniel and his crew would kill the Saviors, and he didn’t need any of them in jail for burglary or whatever the charge would be if they were caught. Every able body would be needed for the Saviors’ demise. “I don’t have that type of cash,” he said, “but let me think about it for a day or two.”
“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” Daniel said.
“I’m aware of that, Daniel. And I will find a way.”
Chapter 13
Blake woke with a raging hangover.
Holy Christ.
If he thought his head hurt before he tackled the whiskey, he’d been drastically mistaken. Compared to now, that headache felt like bits of fairy dust sprinkling his brain.
Stretching out, he couldn’t believe the pain radiating throughout his body. It was as if every muscle, tendon, and fiber had been set on fire. Were the deep aches from his workout yesterday, from the heroin withdrawal, or from the booze? So many choices, so many ways to abuse the body. What had brought on his date with the bottle again? Oh, right. Annis was pregnant.
“Aw fuck,” he mumbled, rolling over.
He was able to get upright and made it to the bathroom. His stomach heaved, but nothing came up. What he needed were some crackers to soothe the savage beast.
After using the toilet, he pulled on some sweatpants and headed for the elevator. He hadn’t bothered to look at the time, but with any luck, he’d slip in and out of the kitchen without being detected. He was kind of like a ghost—like the apparition in Brandy’s apartment—and the thought made him chuckle. As he drank himself stupid last night, he’d actually looked around his room in the hopes of seeing her silvery form again. He wanted to know what she represented. Was she an angel? A ghost? Or had he been so messed up on the H at Brandy’s that he’d completely fabricated her?
He stepped into the elevator, and a moment later headed into the kitchen. He heard some commotion down the hallway but ignored it as he raided the pantry. An ear-piercing scream startled him, and without even thinking, he followed the sound.
When he rounded the corner into the great room, his heart skipped numerous beats.
Beverly stood very still in the middle of the room, her hand at her throat, her breathing labored as she tried to hold back her sobs. Hudson was a few feet away, also motionless. Noah, Abby, Cohen, and Jovan were also in the room, but on the outskirts of the commotion. In the middle of it all was Killian, laughing and waving a gun around.
“Daddy, it’s like the gun I make with my finger when I chase you!” he squealed, pointing it at Hudson. “Bam! Bam!”
“Give me the gun, Killian,” Hudson said in a calm voice as he took a step toward his son. “Come on, that’s not a gun to be played with. That's not a toy.”
Killian laughed. “I’ll shoot you, Daddy!”
“No, that’s not a good idea, Killian,” Hudson murmured, taking another step toward the boy. “Come on, hand it over.”
Killian raised the gun and pointed it at Hudson. Blake’s breath caught in his throat as Killian’s little finger curled over the trigger. The kid obviously had no idea the danger he was in, nor did he realize he could very well kill his own father and anyone else who was unfortunate enough to catch a stray bullet. Thank God that bastard Cohen was in the room to do any emergency healings if needed.
Hudson took another step and got to Killian before a shot could be fired. He pulled the gun from Killian’s hand, then scooped him up and held him to his chest, closing his eyes. Killian began to cry. "Daddy, I want my gun!"
There was a collective sigh of relief in the room, and Beverly walked over to her family, tears streaming down her face. The three hugged for a moment, and then Hudson said, “Take him downstairs, Bev. Things are about to get ugly up here. I'm going to have to have the gun talk with him a lot sooner than I planned.”
Beverly took Killian and brushed past Blake, visibly shaking. Not that he blamed her for being so upset. Kids and guns don’t mix.
Hudson looked like he was going to destroy the room as he glared at everyone.
“Who’s gun is this?” he bellowed. When no one answered, he screamed, “I want some answers and I want them now!”
Jovan walked over to Hudson. “Let me see that,” he said.
Hudson glared at him.
“Jesus, Hudson, I’m just trying to help. Let me see it.”
Hudson held out the gun, and Jovan turned it over in his hands. “Blake, isn’t this yours?”
Blake shook his head. His gun was . . . oh, shit.
The memories came crashing back. He’d gotten all manly and hidden behind the bar when Annis and Liberty came in. The gun was poking him, and he’d taken it out of his pocket and set it on the floor. He’d been so devastated at Annis’s big news and so focused on getting his bottle that he’d forgotten his gun.
Things were not looking good for him.
“Uh . . .”
All eyes were on him. Hudson’s ga
ze narrowed. “Uh, what, you half-breed piece of shit?” he hissed.
Blake took a step back, and Hudson lunged. Noah plowed into him from the side, saving Blake from the impact. They landed on the floor with a loud thud, Noah pinning Hudson to the thick carpet face first.
“Let me up, Noah!” Hudson snarled. “That fucker is going to die! Do you understand me? He’s dead!”
“I’m only letting you up if you calm down, Hudson!” Noah yelled.
Blake took another step back from the melee, planning his escape.
“And you!” Noah hissed at Blake. “You better not move another muscle or I will let Hudson up.”
“Don’t go anywhere, Blake,” Jovan said, taking out his phone and quickly tapping the keys. “I’m not cleaning up the mess that would be left over if Hudson got his paws on you.”
After a moment of struggle, Hudson relented. “Fine, Noah,” he said, breathing hard. “I won’t kill him.”
“I don’t even want you to hurt him. Got it?”
Hudson's stare, so filled with hate, sent a shiver through Blake. Hudson nodded.
Just then, Rayner and Nico ran into the room. “What’s going on?” Nico asked as he noticed Noah and Hudson on the ground. “We just got a text from Jovan that Hudson was about to kill Blake.”
“What the hell, Jovan?” Rayner asked. “I’ve seen Hudson and Noah go at it plenty of times. This isn’t anything new.”
Jovan held up the gun. “Hudson just pulled this out of Killian’s hand. The kid almost shot him. It’s Blake’s.”
Rayner let out a long whistle. “Okay, now this is getting good.”
“How did Killian get a hold of Blake’s gun?” Nico asked.
“That’s the big question,” Jovan answered.
“Get off me, Noah,” Hudson grumbled.
“Do I have your word as a male of honor that you will not kill anyone today?” Noah asked.
Hudson sighed. “Yes, fine. But I’m not making any promises about tomorrow.”
Noah got off Hudson and helped him to his feet, keeping one hand on his shoulder, as if that would stop him from lunging at Blake again.
