Chapter 4
I sensed there was something off about him the moment we met.
His enormous form walked away, and his long, black hair flowed in the wind. Tight muscles bulged under a dark blue uniform, similar to the flight suits I’d seen worn by the Air Force.
As he strode farther away, my anxiety eased. Glancing around, I needed to ensure he hadn’t been spotted.
No other vehicles appeared in the distance, and the other shops remained shuttered and dark. The little town of Barkley still slept. Thank goodness.
Sliding by back down the wall, I landed on my butt and stared toward the field, at the last spot Drayven had been before I’d glanced away. Only dry brush and tall grass stood there now.
Good. I’m glad he’s gone. I should’ve been more worried about my sanity, how easily I’d accepted his alien form, but what irritated me the most wasn’t rational. He’d lied to me, made me think he’d been human. What if he’d decided to do—I don’t know—alien things to me?
Stop being stupid. You know, deep down, he’s one of the good guys, and that’s why you so readily invited him to stay.
I hated that voice of reason, so I slammed the lid on her. What I should do is go to the cops.
Or find the nearest shrink.
That thought made me pause. Had I spent so much time alone as a nomad that I’d lost touch with reality and made him up? If so, why is that idea even less reassuring?
My attention wandered to the ground where we’d stood only moments before.
A dark gray band of metal, around two inches wide, slept on the bumpy asphalt. What did he call it? His lifecord? It seemed so unassuming, like a blank piece of metal someone would buy from a hobby store to decorate or engrave.
So, I’m not crazy or dreaming. He really is an alien. He’d said he came from Mars. How had the government never found them?
Maybe the government knows but keep us in the dark. It wouldn’t be the first time. His warning about reporting him rang in my ears. Could it have been just a ruse to keep me quiet, or would it truly put me in danger? Besides, who would believe me?
They’d believe me if that lifecord thing is real.
I didn’t want to turn him in for many reasons, but mainly because I wanted to forget everything and pretend it never happened, that I’d never met such an intriguing being.
Pushing myself to a standing position, I gathered my painting supplies. The mural would not be finished today. My thoughts were too scattered. The only thing I needed at the moment was to go back to my tent and figure out my next move.
Drayven knew where I lived, but I felt no threat from that knowledge. Though he’d lied about his true appearance, I didn't fault him for that. How many times had I hid myself to blend in with others, especially as a teen and living on the streets, to ensure I wasn’t singled out…or worse.
With a deep breath, I shouldered my pack of supplies and carried the ladder to my truck, shoving it in the back, next to my bed, and gave the unfinished mural a last look.
The lines of the tree trunks seemed stark and cold without their branches and leaves. I closed my eyes and remembered the soft touch of Drayven’s hand against mine, how I’d longed to kiss his lips.
But they weren’t really his lips, were they? Just a clever disguise.
I opened my eyes and frowned. A glint of light on the ground caught my eye. The bracelet still lay where it had fallen.
On impulse, I bent and picked it up, turning it over to inspect the inside, where four markings had been etched, the writing something between hieroglyphs and Roman numerals. The metal felt cool and smooth, like polished glass.
I can’t leave it out here for someone to find. If he’s telling the truth, then someone finding this thing could be dangerous for his people if it got into the wrong hands.
“I’ll just hang onto it while I consider things.” Stuffing it into a side pocket of my backpack, I closed the tailgate, hopped into the driver’s seat, and started the engine. I’d go back to the park and try to forget I’d ever met an alien named Drayven Naxar.
After a warm shower at the nearby campground facilities, I ate a peanut butter sandwich, then tied my hammock between two tall pines and climbed inside and laid down.
The fresh air, sprinkled with the scent of grilled meat and spring flowers, eased my nerves. Though I tried to banish this morning’s events from my memory, it was no use. Drayven’s face—his real face, kept invading my thoughts. Now that I’d had a few hours to process the events in the last two days, the fear I’d initially felt changed into curiosity. And annoyance.
How could I be both fascinated and irritated with Drayven?
Does it matter? He’s gone and he’ll never come back because I shunned him like so many have shunned me. Why hadn’t I even tried to give him a chance, to learn from him? But I knew why.
Every person I’d ever known and loved had left me or let me down. My anger really wasn’t directed at him, but at myself for not being able to trust anyone, to let them in, for always running away.
He’s gone, probably back on Mars or wherever, and I’ll never have a chance to tell him what I think, what I feel deep in the marrow of my bones. I’d never kept a lover for long. As soon as they became clingy or tried to change my way of life, I always left.
But Drayven didn’t seem disgusted or intimidated by my free spirit. He’d accepted me exactly as I’d been. Flawed, quirky, and human. Why couldn’t I have done the same?
We just met, yet it feels like I’ve known him forever.
Regret tinged my thoughts. Closing my eyelids, my body swinging gently with the breeze, I recalled Drayven’s pink tongue, split at the end, as it swiped against his sharp teeth, how his purple skin flushed with heat, how his horns—the color of onyx—emphasized the lightness of his eyes. With his true form in my mind, I faded into sleepy darkness.