Chapter 23
TWINK
Customers cried out as the yappy Chihuahua made sure everyone in the building was aware of its existence.
I hurried through the swinging doors, along the wall, into the back room. Since there wasn’t a lock, Sheila wouldn’t have any issue coming back here and tearing my head off.
This was a horrible idea.
Not that I had much choice. If I’d tried to go the other way, she would have likely speared me with her tail, but still, rule number one in any true crime doc or podcast is never ever corner yourself in a building.
In my defense, in this particular case, with an alien on my tail, I felt there wasn’t adequate representation of alien murder content to help me prepare for this moment.
As I fled past the back-room shelves, I searched for anything I could use as a weapon.
This was the moment I realized a bookstore café wasn’t equipped to take on extraterrestrials.
Sheila released a war cry behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder.
She stood inside the doorway, having removed the mask, wig, and gloves, so now she was all bulbous head and gnashing teeth as she extended her claws, thrashing about.
Even though she’d lost some of her disguise, she was still in that creepy dress, so it was like someone had dressed up their alien action figure in an American Doll’s dress.
I screamed out for my life as I rounded the corner into the cleaning supply closet, where I figured I’d have more luck with something I could fashion into a weapon.
The hot coffee had been a success, so chemicals might work against her too.
I found the purple spray we used to clean the equipment.
It smelled toxic, so I hoped for the best. By the time I spun around, she was maybe three feet from me, clawing at me. I blasted her with the spray.
As it misted before me, I turned away to keep any from getting in my eyes—that, or not being interested in seeing the moment she snatched me by my throat and ended me. Like with my coffee assault, she screamed, then dropped to the floor, writhing like a hornet sprayed with Raid.
I started past her to make my escape, but Sheila’s tail tossed and turned, the spike at the end moving in a stabbing motion, puncturing cartons of oat milk on a shelf.
As she reared her tail back, milk spraying across the floor, I was sure this would be my only chance, so I had to brave it.
I rushed from the closet, and her tail came right for my chest.
“Whoa!” I leaned back to avoid the attack, and in the process, I lost my balance, tumbling back into the closet, which I realized was for the best when I felt her tail nick the front of my shirt. A millimeter more, and she would have drawn blood.
I recovered from the fall quickly, pushing back to my feet.
Sheila did the same, spinning around to face me, having recovered from my attack much faster than would do me any good.
Though I didn’t know how to read a Vorcon’s expression, the way her lips spread, exposing more of her sharp silver teeth, her yellow eyes brightening, I was certain this wasn’t to convey a truce.
She screamed again, this time so loudly, I had to cover my ears.
This was it. I was a dead twink, for sure.
Sheila was about to charge when I heard a muffled, “Hey, you!”
Roger?
She turned just in time to catch a barstool in the face, which knocked her back against the wall.
It didn’t take her long to regain her bearings, turning to face off against her attacker, when Eric said, “Eat this!”
A stream came into view, slamming into Sheila’s face, and she reared her head back, screeching.
If I didn’t lose my life today, I was definitely gonna lose my eardrums.
The mist from the spray Eric had used stung my eyes. Pepper spray?
Sheila fell, and Roger rushed her, another stool in hand, which he clamped down on her tail. “Come on, Char. Go, go, go!”
I sped out of the closet, hurrying toward the exit, where Eric waited for me, still holding a can of pepper spray. “You good?” he asked as I approached, my eyes still recovering from the burn of mist that lingered in the air.
“If we get out of this alive,” I replied.
“Okay, way to downplay how badass we just were.”
Speaking of badass, Roger was acting like a real hero as he kept Sheila’s tail pinned down before finally releasing it and rushing to join us. Her tail was too quick, though, and I called out, “Roger, be careful—”
Too late. The spike jabbed at his shin, driving through his slacks. Roger’s eyes widened. “Dammit!”
As he fell forward, Eric and I jumped into action, grabbing him by either arm and pulling forcefully. Sheila’s spike was stuck in his slacks, and we really had to throw our weight into it, which had Roger grunting before we dislodged her and helped our friend to the door.
The café was empty, and some teens who’d been sitting in the dining area had their phones out as they recorded from outside.
Daddy really wasn’t far off with his assumption about our phones.
As Eric and I helped Roger to the café door, the Chihuahua was right on our heels, scratching and nipping at my slacks, seemingly acting on its master’s behalf.
“Seriously?” I asked, trying to push it away and get the hell out of there.
“Um…guys…guys…” Roger said, his voice strained.
“Anything you need to say can be talked about later,” I assured him just as I managed to push the toy dog away with enough force to discourage him from coming at me again.
The barking, however, continued unabated.
Eric halted in place with Roger.
“What is going on?” I asked, turning to them.
I followed their gazes to the café door, where a massive figure was stepping inside. A Furker! But this wasn’t Daddy.
Towering over us, with eight tentacles stretching from a body thick with muscle, it was a sight for sore eyes—in this case, both literally, from the spray, and figuratively—but though the physique and size were similar to Daddy’s, the tentacles were powder blue, his body a deeper shade of blue.
Frozen in place, the guys and I stared at this giant as he said, “Get out of here.” His voice boomed, and we didn’t need to be told twice.
We hurried around him, and while we were helping Roger out the door, I looked back just in time to see Sheila leaving the back room and spotting the Furker.
And what a relief it was to have another big guy between us and this monster! Even though Daddy hadn’t made it in time, it was nice that someone had come to our rescue. This was it. We’d been saved!
“Oh, shit,” the Furker said, spinning back around. “Okay, we all gotta go. Come on, come on. No slackers.”
Maybe not, then…
Seeing him rushing toward us, his eyes wide with fear, it was apparent he was just as afraid of Sheila as we were, and I assumed for very good reason.
We were out the café door in no time before the Furker said, “Hold on. I’ve got you.”
I didn’t really understand why we’d stopped—maybe just the fact that we had a common enemy and I assumed the alien would probably have a better understanding than me or my friends.
Our alien rescuer wrapped his tentacles around each of us, and I noticed Eric’s eyes go wide, likely as wide as mine were as the Furker lunged into the air, carrying us across the street.
As we landed, his tentacles shifted about, as though to soften the impact for us.
Like Daddy, I figured it was in his Furker nature to be considerate, and I could see how that would have benefited them as far as finding a mate.
As he jumped once again, I looked back to see Sheila exiting the café.
On all fours, she zeroed in on us as we continued ascending with the Furker until, with three of his free tentacles, he seized hold of one of the concrete walls of the parking garage across the street.
In a swift move, he catapulted us into the air, carrying us to the open top floor of the garage, landing among the parked cars.
His tentacles eased up around us, relaxing at our sides.
“That was cool,” Eric muttered, which was probably the most excited he ever got.
“Okay, guys,” the Furker said. “Quick question: None of you happened to do anything to piss that thing off, right? Please tell me the answer to that is no.” He was fluent in English, like Daddy.
“Of course we didn’t do anything to piss that thing off.” Roger sounded offended. “My friend was just working, and that thing barged in and went feral on him.”
The Furker’s gaze met mine, and I was sure he was picking up something from me. Maybe the way Daddy could as far as reading my stress levels, like an alien lie detector. Or maybe, like Sheila, he could smell Daddy on me. Was it weird that I hoped it was the latter?
“Is that true?” he pressed me. “Was this random?”
“She’s after me. I…um…” For having just met this guy, I didn’t want to spill all my secrets, especially if Daddy wouldn’t want me to. But on the other hand, this guy was keeping us alive, and Daddy had said that was my priority right now.
“So…I kind of know another Furker,” I explained.
“A what?” he asked.
“Oh, that’s—”
“I’m kidding. I assume that was the placeholder he came up with to describe what he was to you. Sounds a little vulgar, but I can roll with it.”
Catching Roger’s eye, I saw confusion and hurt in his expression. I’d spent all that time telling him aliens didn’t exist, and now I was admitting to the contrary. It wasn’t something we could work through now, though, as a sound came from the street just before a car alarm went off.
“Please tell me,” the Furker said, “that the way you know this other Furker is that he’s a friend and that you have no interest in him whatsoever.”
I cringed.
“Kidding again,” he teased. “Yeah, she’s coming for you.”
Roger shook his head, scowling. “Wait, what the hell is going on?”
The Furker glanced between us. “Okay, well, you can call me Kryton, and I’m gonna probably die with you today because you just pissed off one of the fiercest creatures in the universe. So run with me.”
We started off in a sprint, Kryton taking the lead. His tentacles steadily pulled into his back as his body shifted right before us, until we were faced with a glorious back and tight ass.
“Whoa,” Eric observed as Roger said, “The hell?”
Kryton led us to some nearby cars, and as he searched around, his fat cock swung about, which Roger stepped back to avoid getting slapped with.
“This is good enough,” Kryton said, hopping into the bed of a truck, urging us to do the same. As we got in, he peeked over the side.
“I’m sorry, but is there a plan?” Roger asked through his teeth, clearly still trying to manage the pain from his fresh wound.
“Yeah, this is about as far as I got. Unless you have a better idea, cutie.”
Cutie?
“Wait. You can shapeshift, and you don’t have a better plan than being a human?” Eric asked.
A series of car alarms sounded in the parking garage from the floor beneath us.
“You ever heard of a game called hide-and-seek?” Kryton asked.
“We are so fucked,” Roger muttered.
“Don’t worry. If we die today, we die together. Kind of romantic, right?”
Roger did a double take, his expression twisted up, clearly uncertain what to think about the way Kryton was engaging with him. And knowing what I did about Furkers, I couldn’t help but think he had singled Roger out because he sensed something about him the way Daddy had with me.
It’s not something I had much time to consider before a sound came from nearby—the door to the stairwell? Footsteps made their way across the concrete.
Kryton tapped my shoulder, and as I looked at him, he mimed as he mouthed, “Stay low.”
I wasn’t gonna have an issue following that instruction, but I didn’t know how much good it would do me when she could easily detect me by scent.
Still, I kept close to the bottom of the truck bed, not really having any other option, listening out for Daddy’s Vorcon ex, when I noticed the footsteps had stopped.
Her claws came over the side of the bed, gripping on before her head rose up, and upon seeing us, she hissed.
I looked to Kryton, who I hoped had some plan, but his human form was gone, and in his place, was an egg-shaped thing, with strange grooves across it, covered in some sort of film.
“That asshole ditched us,” Roger muttered as Sheila raised her claw and brought it down at me.
In my periphery, the egg shifted about before exploding and sending something flying through the air, hurtling at her.
Sheila redirected her attention, but not before what looked like the tentacles of the thing that had been birthed from the egg wrapped around her face.
She fell from the side of the truck, her cry growing louder as she collapsed.
Okay, maybe he wasn’t ditching us, after all.
As we climbed out of the bed of the truck, Sheila screamed, clawing at the creature against her face.
Whatever Kryton had shifted into had skin that was almost like putty.
When she sliced it, the gunk expanded and clung to her claws, so that soon it bound her up as the thing steadily expanded across her, as though trying to consume her entirely.
“I say we run,” I told them, motioning toward the parking garage door, and we took off.
I checked over my shoulder. Sheila was making progress in pulling the gunk from her face, tearing it apart in a way that concerned me—after all, Daddy had just gotten a cut on his leg and it was brutal, but she was basically shredding Kryton.
I couldn’t imagine why he would have sacrificed himself like that for us, but I’d have to sort that out later.
Right now, we had to get the hell out of there so his sacrifice wouldn’t be in vain.
We rushed through the parking garage door, then down the stairwell. As we reached the third floor, we heard the top-floor door open. Fuck, she was right on us.
In my hurry, helping Roger down the stairs, I stumbled, tripping up and catching myself on the rail.
“You good?” Roger asked as he struggled with Eric down the steps.
For having been an ass to him in the café about aliens, and to now see that I was full of shit, he was being very thoughtful. My breath hitched as the adrenaline of the excitement caught up with me. “Yeah, I’m…”
As I regained my footing, a black mass appeared at my side.
Sheila.
She descended by her tail, gnashing her silver teeth. She growled before striking at me with one of her claws, just as the window on the opposite side of the stairwell exploded and something came shooting inside.
Not just something—a light-pink tentacle, a shade I immediately recognized.
Daddy!
He seized Sheila’s wrist, yanking her back and slamming her into the wall. He bashed her skull against it, the wall cracking, splitting open, before he dragged her outside.
“Holy hell…” a wide-eyed Eric muttered.
But I only had one thing on my mind.
I had to make sure she didn’t hurt Daddy.