by Darien Cox
“No. Thought you were just a group of charming, yet occasionally annoying villagers.”
“It’s camouflage. We blend in. You don’t go screaming through the woods and show the deer your gun if you want to hunt it. You dress up like a tree, then you sit in one.”
“Your point being there’s a lot more being done to find this...person than meets the eye.”
“I’m certain of it. Some of the knowledge Ogden has passed onto us over the years to help us do the job? Holy shit. He’s got these crazy-ass brainy physicists, one of which we met, and this is one of those never-see-the-light-of-day motherfuckers. Legit, full-on, greasy hair and big glasses, looks like a literal lab rat. But the guy is fucking scary smart. He’s an expert on extraterrestrial propulsion systems. Can you imagine? And he can’t ever tell anyone in his life what he does, how far out of this world his brilliance has actually taken him.”
“And Ogden? What does he do?”
“He handles us. But seems to have other duties. Sometimes it takes him a while to get here when we call him down. Don’t ask me what his background is, I don’t even want to know. But he’s married and has kids and shit, so someone out there found him fuckable at least. That gives me comfort.”
Myles laughed. “Someone found him fuckable. And you find that comforting because it means he’s what? Not pure evil?”
“Exactly! I have to rationalize some humanity into Ogden, otherwise he’d freak me out too much.” Myles didn’t even realize he was grinning, until Christian said, “You’re smiling. That’s new. In terms of this topic.”
Myles stopped them in the path, rubbing Christian’s shoulders. “I guess I feel like I’m finally talking to you. The real you.”
Christian winced. “I kind of went off on a tangent there, didn’t I?”
“Talking to your friends seems to cheer you up.”
“Yeah, being alone in all this isn’t an option. Joking about it, bouncing ideas off each other, it has a calming factor. We all need it.”
“I’d like it if you could be like that with me. I’m not delicate, Christian. Stop treating me like I am. Just talk straight to me like that, and be yourself. I’m not going to run away, even if little green men are real.”
“They’re not that kind of aliens.”
“Shut up.” Myles kissed him, and they got lost in it for a moment, until Cuervo became impatient and started pulling on the leash.
“She’s thirsty,” Christian said. “Let’s head back. I’m gonna make you the best burger you ever had.”
“Sounds perfect.”
As they headed up the path, Myles smiled, strangely content. Because for some reason, even with all the problems and variables, being with Christian felt absolutely perfect in that moment. For the first time, he allowed himself to consider what it might be like to have Christian as his boyfriend. And while there was still a negative column to the equation, Myles couldn’t come up with a single reason good enough to call it a bad idea.
****
Christian laughed when Myles’ eyes widened after taking a bite of his burger. “I told you. It’s good right?”
Myles swallowed and set the burger down. “Holy fuck. That is the best burger I’ve ever had, no joke. What the hell did you do to it?”
“It’s JT’s recipe. Lots of butter and spices. I’m afraid it’s not very low calorie.”
“Most burgers aren’t. But this is totally worth it, thank you.”
Christian watched Myles check his phone for the umpteenth time. “You should try to relax, Myles. If Darwyn needs you he’ll call.”
“I know.” He slipped the phone into his pocket. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to sitting around. Did you talk to Ogden?”
“Yes, and I told him you want to help, and he told me to keep you distracted because you’d only get in the way.”
Myles shook his head. “This just doesn’t feel right. Letting someone else deal with a threat of this magnitude.”
“Try to remember that you’re not exactly volunteering to sit this out. Ogden didn’t give you a choice.”
Myles smirked and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“Think how I feel. This is the absolute worst case scenario as far as my job goes. And I’ve been shut out, too. I’m at least trying to enjoy this time with you.”
“I’m enjoying this time with you, too. It’s just this thing is always there in the back of my mind. I’m sorry if I’m not good company.”
“You are the best company,” Christian said. “After you walked out on me the other morning I was afraid we’d never...be together again.”
Myles smiled shyly. “Can’t seem to stay away from you. I’m sure you knew I’d be back eventually.”
“Not really. JT told me you would be, but I didn’t believe him.”
Myles brows rose. “You discussed me with JT?”
“He’s my best friend. I was upset, and he could tell. So yeah. You were discussed. I suppose you’d never think of telling one of your friends you were messing around with that damn Boucher guy.”
Myles laughed. “Actually, I told Tim.”
“What did he say?”
“He was ultimately supportive but he thinks you and your friends are weird.”
“Of course he does. Tim Patterson thinks he’s better than everyone else.”
“He does not! I’ve known him since we were kids.”
“And I’ve known grownup Tim since I moved to the village a decade ago. He likes living in the big gay village but still swaggers around looking down on everyone else. Did you know Elliot slept with Tim once?”
Myles’ eyebrows rose. “Uh, no. Seriously?”
“Ha! Didn’t mention that, did he? It was years ago. Elliot said after it was done, like he hadn’t even gotten the condom off yet when Tim said to him, ‘Of course you won’t mention this to anyone, I have a reputation to uphold.’”
“Tim would never say that! Elliot’s full of it.”
“Elliot gets paid to lie, but he doesn’t lie to his friends.”
“Wow. Tim and Elliot. That’s surprising. Tim did mention he’d like to...go a few rounds with Nolan.”
“Oh, he wishes. Nolan would never fuck that snobby asshole.”
Myles laughed and shook his head. “We shouldn’t be gossiping about our friends.”
“I kind of like it,” Christian said. “It means you’re starting to trust me.”
Myles eyes softened as he looked across the kitchen table at Christian. “You’re really easy to be with when you let your guard down.”
“Bet you never thought you’d say that about me back when you had me locked in a cell.”
Myles rolled his eyes. “No. Because of you I break out in hives if I hear Smashing Pumpkins.”
Cuervo started barking violently. Christian set his burger down, frowning.
“Is someone at the door?”
Christian stood. “Sounds like she’s at the back door.” Cuervo’s barking increased in ferocity. “She never barks like that unless someone’s here.” He started to leave the table when Myles grabbed his arm.
“Wait. Are you sure it’s not one of your friends?”
“Cuervo knows all my friends, she wouldn’t bark like that if it was one of them.”
“Hang on.” Myles got his gun. “Stay behind me, we’ll check it out together.”
“It could be Ogden. Cuervo doesn’t like him.”
As they stepped out of the kitchen, Cuervo’s barking ceased. Christian’s heart thudded. “Cuervo?”
Myles paused in the living room, holding an arm out for Christian to stay behind him. “Call her again.”
“Cuervo! Come here, girl.”
When the dog didn’t appear, Myles moved stealthily along the wall, heading toward the back of the house. When they reached the screened-in porch, Christian spotted Cuervo lying on the floor, not moving.
“Cuervo!” He started toward her but Myles grabbed him and tugge
d him back.
“Wait!”
Myles stepped into the room and shifted side to side with his gun out. He glanced back at Christian. “No one here.”
Christian ran to the dog and gathered her in his arms. Her eyes were open and she was breathing, but it was like holding a rag doll, no movement, her muscles slack. “Cuervo? Oh Jesus, something’s wrong, I need to get her to the vet.”
Something creaked near the kitchen and they both stilled. Myles mouthed ‘Stay here’ to Christian, and moved cautiously out of the porch room.
My dog is paralyzed. “No,” Christian whispered, and set Cuervo down. “Myles, no! Don’t go in there!”
Chapter Eighteen
“Don’t move!” Myles pointed his gun at the tall figure standing in the living room, and in a span of seconds before the strange appearance registered, Christian darted in front of him.
“Christian! Get back!”
“No.” Christian held a hand up before the figure. “Don’t hurt him. Don’t hurt us, we mean no harm.”
“Christian,” Myles hissed. “Get back.”
“Put the gun down, Myles,” Christian said softly. “And don’t make any sudden movements.”
Myles kept his gun up, taking in the sight before them. The death-white skin and large, speckled blue eyes. The narrow jaw, and extra-long fingers. Damp, pale orange hair, ears smoothly flattened to the sides of the head. The gray garment, filthy with mud and weeds. The figure took a step forward, buckling for a moment before pausing, lips curling back with a hiss, revealing small white teeth and pink gums as he lifted his foot. Myles’ eyes were drawn down to the long foot, covered in the same gray material, but dark with dried blood.
Myles slipped his phone out of his pocket, and the strange man’s eyes followed his movements. Is it a man, though? He told himself this was either a deformed human or the tragic result of some experiment, yet his mind still automatically thought of it as a creature, not a man. Something about it registered as not human in his mind, whether he’d been influenced by Christian’s talk of aliens or not. “I said don’t move!”
It hissed and limped toward them, pointing at the phone in Myles’ hand.
Christian and Myles shuffled back. “Stop,” Myles said. “Or I’ll shoot you.”
“Myles, don’t,” Christian said. “He can hurt you without moving.”
The creature was clearly agitated, the expression on his strange, pale face registering anger, and something like desperation. Myles sensed a fragility to him despite Christian’s warnings that this being was dangerous. He was wounded. He was flesh and blood.
The being lifted an arm and pointed at Christian. “Boats.” The voice was deep and raspy.
Christian stayed in front of Myles, a protective stance, blocking him with his body. “What about boats?” he asked the creature.
The creature lifted his long hand and pointed two fingers at his own eyes, then turned the fingers to point at Christian. “Boats. See you. From inside. Ship. You. Boat man.”
“Holy crap is your English good,” Christian said softly. “Not only do you look like us, you’ve clearly studied us. Why?”
“Not. Like. You.” His lips curled back in a sneer. He pointed at Christian. “Ship go? See you. Boats.”
The tall figure took a step and his leg buckled. His body wobbled then he fell to his knees.
“You’re hurt,” Christian said. “We can help you.”
Speckled blue eyes glared at Christian with pure rage. “You?” His lips parted and he chuckled deeply.
“I’m sure you usually have access to better medical care, but beggars can’t be choosers.”
“Ship!”
“You want a ship?”
The creature slapped a hand against its chest. “Ship! Me. Ship.”
“Oh.” Christian glanced back at Myles, wincing. “He wants his ship. The craft,” he whispered.
Myles shook his head. “You said—”
Christian placed a finger to his lips.
“Ship go? Ship go!”
Christian turned and faced the creature. “I don’t know where the ship went. They took it somewhere.”
The creature shrieked and they both stepped back, Christian bumping into Myles. Myles took advantage of the distraction and hit Darwyn’s number on the phone, opening a text window with his thumb, typing ‘911 Boucher house tell Ogden’.
The creature glared up from the floor. “Where? Ship go.”
“I can find out,” Christian said. “Look, see?” He pulled his phone out. “I can call someone and find out.”
“Phone down!” the creature shouted, lifting his arm.
Christian dropped the phone.
“Phone down!” The creature said again, pointing at Myles. “Weapon down!”
“Myles,” Christian said. “Drop your phone. And the gun.”
“I can’t do that. It’s just a man, Christian. He’s bleeding.”
“It’s not a fucking man, Myles, if you’re ever gonna trust me, trust me now. He can paralyze you, look at my dog. Drop them, Myles, I’m begging you.”
Myles lowered his arm and let the gun drop to the floor, but kept it close. He dropped his phone. “Okay. I dropped them.” He wasn’t sure what happened to the dog, but couldn’t take the chance Christian could get hurt. “Christian, please get behind me.”
“Myles, let me handle this.”
The creature shifted onto his ass and lifted his own foot, growling.
“We can help you get that cleaned up,” Christian said. “If you let me go to the bathroom to get some supplies. It’s probably infected.”
“Fuck to you. Ship! Ship go? Speak to! Or death.”
Myles leaned close to Christian, whispering in his ear, “Got a text out. Keep him talking. Stall.”
Christian’s shoulders trembled, but he retained his calm. “You’ve probably got something on your ship that can fix that foot right up, huh? I’m sure I can find out where they’ve taken it. If you just let me make a phone call.”
“No phone. Speak. Ship go? Me ship!”
“Why’d you run away from it? You left your buddy and took off.”
White fingers curled into a fist, and he brought it to his mouth, a drinking gesture.
“You needed water,” Christian said.
Pointing at Christian, the creature hissed, “You take. Take to ship.”
“You want me to take you to the ship?”
“That’s not happening,” Myles whispered in Christian’s ear. “It’s injured, it’s flesh and blood. I can get to my gun quick, move out of the way and let me get him in the leg, I can at least disable him.”
Myles legs gave out and he dropped to the floor.
“Myles!” Christian knelt next to him.
“Ship go! Now.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you!” Christian shouted. “Fix him. And fix my fucking dog!”
“Christian,” Myles whispered. Tingles ran up his body. He could still move his arms but his legs were dead weight. Myles grasped for his gun. “Shoot it.”
The creature got up and limped toward them, then kicked the gun out of the way.
“Please,” Christian said, holding his hands up. “Don’t hurt him. Fix him or I won’t help you!”
The creature grabbed Christian’s arm and yanked him to his feet, then threw him across the room. Christian crashed into the wall then crumpled to the floor.
“You motherfucker!” Myles shouted, then scrambled for his gun, dragging himself across the floor.
His body was lifted off the ground, and Myles stared into liquid blue eyes dotted with gold. He was shoved against the wall by the collar of his shirt, and that pale, mud-streaked face moved close to his. Lips peeled back, gums showing pink. Its teeth were extra small, tongue peeking out between them.
“Inside,” it rasped, poking Myles abdomen hard with its finger. “Bleed if I think it. Inside. Hurt if I think it. Hand,” he lifted his other hand and waggled long white fingers in Myl
es’ face. “Rip boat man to meat. Where to start?” His hand lowered and again a finger pressed painfully into Myles’ stomach. “Inside?”
“I know where your ship is!” Christian called out, climbing to his feet.
Myles was dropped to the floor as the creature turned to Christian. “Ship go where?”
Myles struggled to move his legs, shifting on his ass. A slight tingling began in his thighs and feet which he hoped was a good sign. He saw his phone on the floor across the room. Darwyn. “Christian,” he said.
Christian’s gaze shifted to Myles.
“Stall,” he whispered.
“Ship go.” The creature said as it limped toward Christian. “Or death.”
“You know,” Christian laughed, shaking his head, “your English is way better than the other hybrids I’ve met. I’m impressed. Just can’t figure out why you’d be watching us, learning our language. Care to share?”
The creature stopped walking, big eyes widening. “What speak hybrids? What speak!” it rasped.
“I’ve seen other hybrids,” Christian said. “But not like you. They had more of the Whites in them. Do you know who I mean when I say Whites?”
Top lip curling back, a soft, rumbling growl escaped its throat.
Christian side-stepped along the wall, easing his way back toward Myles. The creature turned and followed his movements. “You’re more like us than them, aren’t you?”
“No! What speak?”
“Did the Greys make you as well?”
The creature flinched, white brows pinching. Its eyes followed Christian as he edged toward Myles, the sneer smoothing out. “Whites speak? To you?”
“Sure,” Christian said. He reached Myles and glanced down. “You okay?”
Myles leg shifted on the floor. “I will be. Keep talking.”
“Whites speak to you?” the creature shouted, spittle flying from his lips.
Christian flinched. “Through an ambassador,” he said. “They’re not so bad once you get to know them. The Whites. Pretty powerful, aren’t they?”
