“You haven’t answered my question.” Zoey demanded.
“I can’t tell you what will happen, Zoey. What I do know is that I am the new ambassador chosen to take care of the mess Etienne left behind and try to restore whatever balance there is left. I have crew members arriving tomorrow from Geneva with Rufus. When Etienne was terminated, we thought everything would go back to normal. It was quiet for a while because Trenton Beck would not appear on our radars—he’s a hybrid now, just like you. We’ve been looking for him ever since and thanks to Rufus, we now know a bit more than we did before. He told me about you, they knew one of the subjects had been monitored from the distance.”
Zoey crashed onto the couch, arms crossed against her chest, powerless as she saw Jasper sliding next to her.
A hybrid…Questions filled her head, yet she didn’t voice any. Instead, she looked at her hands and wrists just like Jasper had. What was he expecting to find? Whatever it was, she couldn’t see it either; she didn’t feel any different apart from the shock of everything she had to process.
Aliens…Her gaze landed on his face, searching for notable differences and feeling thankful he wasn’t making eye contact. His face looked smooth in the dim light, no sign of stubble, no pointy ears—just very symmetrical. She was staring, narrowing her eyes as she grazed every possible detail, the curve of his jaw, the effortless waves of his surfer blonde hair ending just below the clavicle. His man bun hadn’t survived the monologue either.
The pattern on his silk waistcoat looked like coral branching out from his shoulder down to his chest. Zoey watched him resting his elbows on his knees and intertwining his fingers, chest lifting with every breath, and wondered how life felt in his shoes.
“Jasper, it’s going to be ok,” she said. “Maybe we can help each other out. There’s a lot going on in my life right now, and I’m done being such a damsel about everything. Every kick in the ass is a step forward, and I needed that kick to move forward.” She turned to face him. “Deal?” Zoey extended her hand, eyes wide and bracing herself for what was to come. She saw Jasper’s confusion spreading out across his features.
“You should never make deals with people you don’t know that well.”
“You’re not ‘people,’ and I would never forget if you broke our truce, would I?”
“What is it that you want in return?” he asked, sliding his hand in hers.
“I’ll figure something out at some point.” She shook his hand. Except she had it all figured out. It was James she wanted to forget more than she ever wanted anything and if aliens could make people forget, she’d take her chances. “Now help me clean before you leave.” Standing up with all the bravery that she could gather, she gave an awkward little smile and tried not to give any sign of what she was feeling.
“Zoey…” he pressed his lips together and raised his eyebrows as if she didn’t quite understand anything that happened, “from this moment on, you’ll be glued to either me or a crew member. This may not be life-or-death for me, but it is for you…literally. So where you go, I go until it’s safe enough to pass you on to someone else. Now, point me to your chambers.” He stood up firm on his legs.
“As in…my bedroom?” Zoey’s jaw dropped.
Her neighbor, the alien she just met a few hours ago, the dude who made crayons fly and broke the news of atmosphere invaders and crazy scientists who experimented on her, demanded to sleep in her bedroom. In James’s bedroom. In her personal space. On her pillows that stored memories of laughter and tears and joy and heartbreak. Her most intimate space.
He was quick to read the befuddlement on her face.
“If your virtue is what you’re thinking of, know that you are in the safest hands on Earth. I’ll gladly take one couch if you’ll take the other.”
“Stay here,” she warned. “I’ll get pillows and blankets. You’ll take the couch by the window and I’ll take the one by the counter.”
γ
Professor Beck’s office couldn’t resemble less the room Sam was being held captive in. Little as she had seen of this building or institution or whatever it was, some parts looked abandoned, while others, such as his study, carried the glam of private labs you saw on CSI and the like. It even smelled clean. Still far from gravity, she twirled her way around the bubble she seemed to be in and watched through a blur as Beck returned to his desk and his papers, undisturbed.
Beck’s bullies entered the room holding each door open for someone whose high-heels rang on the floor leading to the study.
“Mia.” Beck greeted the newcomer with a nod from his chair, raising his gaze to meet hers.
Mia was seemingly in her twenties, thick chestnut hair styled in a ’60s hive held together by a light pink ribbon, her doll face showing signs of worry. She did not give off the scientific vibe in her black leather pants and oversize pink cashmere sweater adorned with expensive brooches in shapes Sam couldn’t quite make out. She could have fit in anywhere but there. And then she spoke.
“Release the girl, Trent. She’s giving me a headache!” Mia protested and watched Sam as she crumbled with a hard knock on the white tiles. If Sam was going to attack, it needed to be based on strategy instead of brute force and impulse since her previous bursts rendered her powerless and, well…gravity-less.
Think, Sam. Think!
Professor Trenton Beck moved courteously from behind his desk, locking fingers behind his back.
“Since you’re here, let me introduce you, ladies…” Beck spoke behind a chivalrous grin. “Sam, this is Mia, our most precious asset.” He turned to face Mia. “And this is Sam, our…for lack of a better word…bait.” He gave an uninterested glance in Sam’s direction, pleased to see her still on the ground. She learned her lesson, it seemed.
Mia’s features remained unmoved. “I made no progress on finding Rufus. He’s off the radar. Our other subject, on the other hand, seems to be at her apartment, sound asleep. Hurry up and tie her to that chair. The sooner we move the better.” Mia was bossy, obnoxious in the way she ordered around and clearly 100% involved in the chaos Beck was leading.
“Very well…Gentlemen, proceed.” Trenton Beck gave a nod to the men in white robes and left the room whistling. They seized Sam by the arms and dumped her on a chair, tying her arms behind her back and her body tight to the backrest. Sam didn’t show any signs of protest. She had to save her energy for all the mental work to follow, all her aching cells would have to work with her if there was even the slightest chance of a way out.
Mia was tapping anxiously on an iPad, biting her lip, frowning, and obviously upset as she dismissed Beck’s bullies with a gesture. Her eyes fell on Sam and she saw her stiffen.
“This is business, sweetheart, don’t take it personally.” She scoffed, dropping the iPad onto Beck’s desk. Sam wondered if she was the devil’s secretary, but there was more to Mia than met the eye; she looked like someone who cared about being alive, someone who loved life and herself enough to match her lip gloss with the color of her nails, someone who, unlike herself, had a future to fight for.
“What’s in it for you?” Sam spat, unable to keep the rage to herself.
“That is absolutely none of your concern!” Mia stressed as she pressed her phone to her ear. For Sam, this was like watching a butcher sharpen his knife in front of a calf. A very strong and adamant calf whose limbs pulsed under the tightness of the ropes that bound her to the chair.
“Hi, this is Mia. One of our radars is picking up some sort of signal, but it doesn’t seem to be steady…uh-huh…It blinks. I ran the digital test and all functions are up to speed…Yes…mhm…No. A factory reset is in order then…I’ll wait!”
A long minute went by and all Sam could hear were Mia’s long nails tapping impatiently on the desk, phone glued to her ear, eyes fixed on the iPad.
“Giving the commodities a rain check”
Imagine Dragons
Emma frantically reached Zoey’s building and caught the door as soon as an elde
rly couple came out. She forced a straight face as she gripped the handle in utter despair. She couldn’t wait a split second to ring the intercom and pushed the elevator button in a cold sweat. It was on the fifth floor. The luxury to wait for it wasn’t something she had, so she bolted up the stairs, breathing heavily and grabbing at the rail in a marathon until she reached the 3rd floor and horror spread all over her face. Zoey’s door was open—not all the way, but the small crack gave her an insight. Inhale, exhale. A horrifying glimpse of Zoey’s living room floor.
Oh. My. God.
Her pulse was reaching unimaginable levels. She pressed a hand to her chest and hated herself for not having a pepper spray. For the life of her, she had to go in.
Inhale, exhale.
She pressed herself against the door and gave a light push.
Everything was out of place, clearly signs of a fight. Zoey undoubtedly fought her way out from whoever had dared to attack her. Emma eyed a pair of scissors and launched herself to the floor to grab them. She contemplated making her way through the rest of the house crawling on her elbows like soldiers do, but dismissed the thought due to the obvious lack of training. It was a bit too quiet. Slowly, cautiously, she stood up, turning her head left and right, searching for evidence. Evidence of struggle was clearly there, evidence of injury, however, was not.
She walked with her back to the wall of Zoey’s hallway, pacing carefully toward the bedroom. The bedroom door stood wide open. She braced herself before going in, tightening the scissors in her fist. She was not confrontational but, given the chance, if she couldn’t talk herself a way out of this particular situation, she had some severely menacing Peppa Pig scissors to hold on to.
Crap.
She took a step closer and stepped in, heart in her throat and expecting a scene much different from what lay beneath her eyes. Inhale terror, exhale relief.
Zoey, sound asleep on her pillow, her face buried in an abundance of curls, arms draped around her pillow, her body twisted in sheets beside the relaxed body of a complete stranger sleeping face-up, one hand cradling his head and the other resting peacefully on his stomach. The worst possible scene to disturb, but there was no way around it.
“Psst! Zoey! Zoey!” Emma tried to whisper but the panic within was palpable. It was enough for both Zoey and the man next to her to crack their eyes open, alert.
Zoey mapped Emma’s visibly worried features and stood up about at the same time as Jasper. She turned her head in surprise to see him beside her.
“What are you doing here?! You were supposed to sleep on the couch!” she argued.
“So were you, I might add!” a sleepy voice replied.
“Guys, clearly whatever this is,” Emma traced a circle with her finger in their direction, “is none of my business. I’m so sorry to drop in like this, Zoey, your door was cracked open. I tried calling a million times. This is an emergency, I need to speak to you privately!” Emma’s eyes widened in dismay.
“I’ll make you some coffee if you promise not to attack me with your scissors.” Jasper sprung out of bed to face Emma and extended his hand. “I’m Jasper!” Emma shook his hand awkwardly and waited for him to leave the bedroom before slamming the door shut.
“Zoey, Sam is missing! I went to her place this morning since she wasn’t replying my texts and found the door wide open, keys on the counter, and no Sam. There was a smashed wine bottle and a knife on the floor! I think someone took her!”
Emma’s voice was quivering, her whole body shaken with concern.
“I should have called the police instead of running here, I…”
“Let me check my phone!” Zoey ran to the door and stopped to turn to Emma just before opening it. “You can trust Jasper. Come with me!”
Emma didn’t trust strangers. Trust had to be earned. She did not have the time nor the Zen at this very moment to analyze where this Jasper ranked on the trust scale, but since priorities had shifted dramatically in only a few hours, the choice was primarily out of her hands. She followed Zoey into the living room, careful not to step on the stationery. It smelled like coffee already.
She could see Jasper behind the counter preparing three mugs and reaching out for the sugar as Zoey eagerly managed to find her phone and tapped at it impatiently.
“Where’s the fire?” Jasper asked while pouring coffee.
“Our friend might have been kidnapped!” Zoey then turned to face Emma. “There’s nothing on my phone except a gazillion missed calls from you.”
“Oh, merde!” Emma muttered a cuss in French and reached for her coffee.
Before she could start outlining a plan, Zoey’s phone rang. She did not recognize the number.
“Hello?” They both saw her eyes widen as she collapsed against the couch, cupping her mouth in terror. Emma sat beside her, grabbing at her skirt. With a swift movement, Zoey pressed the speaker button. A fresh wave of anxiety washed over her whole.
“…we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Either you show up here tomorrow at 5 p.m. willingly and your friend will be released unharmed, or you can alert the police and she will suffer the consequences.” The hoarse voice spoke casually. Emma’s eyes were instantly in tears, her features contorted.
“How do I know you have her?” Zoey demanded.
“If you’ll just give me a second…” He trailed off, then all Zoey could hear were footsteps.
“Sam, dear, I am on the phone with your friend Zoey.” The man spoke softly. Before he even finished, everyone heard the screams coming undoubtedly from Sam.
“Zoey, stay the fuck away from this man! Alert the police immediately, his name is Trenton Beck!” Sam cried with all the air in her lungs. Her screams faded as Beck moved away from Sam and back to a quiet place when he spoke again.
“Zoey, I had no time to come up with some sort of medical shenanigan to trick you into coming here willingly on a Sunday. You will forgive my manners, and you have my word that your friend will be released to safety as soon as you turn yourself in. Tomorrow, 5 p.m., 32thirty-two Tallroad Drive. We’ll escort you from there.” He hung up, leaving Emma and Zoey staring at each other in horror.
“Well that went smoothly,” Jasper’s brows shot up as he took a sip from his tall mug and made faces at the Hello Kitty pattern across it. “Judging by this mug, my extensive research tells me you haven’t outgrown your teens.”
“I’m sorry, were you in some kind of a parallel universe two seconds ago?!” Zoey scowled, her features torn.
Emma was shaking like a leaf, her fingers sliding from her forehead to her hair. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand, leaving traces of makeup and strands of hair glued to her tears. She couldn’t bring herself to string two words together, let alone comfort Zoey, which was what she would be doing if she could manage to shake off the feeling that her insides were being twisted in a knot.
She woke up to the sound of cereal being poured into a bowl and turned to face Jasper in utter shock as her ears were already throbbing in several shades of purple.
“What kind of a twisted asshole are you?!” She got up and stormed towards Jasper, smashing both hands on the counter to make a point. “Eating breakfast while someone has Sam and wants to kidnap the person you were sleeping with last night?”
“Next to,” he replied, perfectly serene and composed while chewing a spoonful of cereal.
“What?!” Emma hissed.
“I was sleeping next to her, not with her.”
“Beside the point, playboy!” She opened her mouth only to be interrupted again.
“I think I just made it crystal clear that I have no romantic interest concerning Zoey, thus rendering your ‘playboy’ remark pointless.”
“Shut up! Both of you!” Zoey snarled. “Emma, meet my neighbor, the alien ambassador who just happens to be here to save my brain from being ransacked by the evil Professor Doom who just called! And there’s more to this sick, twisted, Marvel-like drama—there are others who have been genetically a
ltered just like me!”
Emma’s hand went to her head again in a move that seemed to be the definition of facepalm.
“Oh Jesus, Zoey. You were doing drugs together, you of all people, Jesus on a bike! Why didn’t you come to me for help? This is not the way to get over James. You are not this person! Not you!” Emma broke off. It suddenly made sense: the stationery on the floor, why Zoey was in bed with a stranger…
“You shouldn’t have told her that,” he replied, still unfazed, taking a relaxed sip from his Hello Kitty mug.
“Why not? You can make her forget anytime, remember?” Zoey looked at Emma. “Let him show you!” she pleaded, switching her gaze to Jasper. “Please, Jasper. I’m not going through any of this without Emma. Lift the stationery again.”
Emma couldn’t believe her ears. It was like listening to two drunk people daring each other to walk blindfolded on a wire. Drugs did that to people, and she’d seen relationships and marriages falling to pieces due to it. She heard Jasper sigh as he moved closer to Zoey.
“If that’s what will get you to shut up and calm down…” Then he swiftly turned to Emma and placed both of his palms on her temples. He felt her trying to jerk away as Zoey watched her eyelids slip over her irises and her body convulsing as if having a seizure.
She gasped, torn between Emma’s vulnerable body twitching and her own deep felt selfishness. She’d brought all of this on Emma; it was too late to turn back time and too hard to face the world without her. Emma had been a motherly sister to her and no one, not even an alien, knew Sam better than the two of them. Maybe together they had a chance at figuring it out.
Lost in Amber Page 8
