Alien Breeder’s Seed: A Scifi Alien Romance

by Tammy Walsh

  The silence that passed between us was deafening.

  And into it drifted the nurse, who following our sightline as we stared at each other.

  “Well, I’m glad that’s sorted out.”

  “Shall we get going?” the girl said.

  “Yes,” I said, a little too quickly. “Definitely.”

  The girl reached for my jacket that hung off the end of the bed.

  I snagged it up first.

  “I won’t be a hindrance.”

  The girl’s eyes glinted.

  “You couldn’t be even if you tried.”

  Another achingly long silence broke between us.

  Why did I suddenly feel like I’d been chewing mouthfuls of sand?

  The girl extended her hand to me and I just stared at it.

  I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do with it.

  The young woman hastily pulled her hand back and tucked it in her pocket.

  Her cheeks glowed as red as mine.

  “My name’s Isabella.”

  “Isabella,” I said, savoring her name and rolling it around in my mouth.

  It felt good.

  “I would tell you my name but…”

  She nodded, understanding I didn’t even know my own name.

  I’m so lame.

  “It’s nice of you to take me in like this,” I said.

  “It’s not every day a pilot falls from the sky and almost crushes you.”

  My eyes bulged.

  “I crushed you? I’m so sorry. Are you hurt?”

  I reached for her arm and the instant I touched her, a blue spark crackled, making us both hop back.

  “No,” she said, checking her arm and rubbing the spot where the shock had occurred. “I was the one who found you. I feel… responsible for you now.”

  Responsible.

  She meant obligated.

  She felt obligated toward me.

  Maybe staying in the hospital was the best thing for me to do.

  But I knew I couldn’t succumb to that idea.

  Every fiber of my being railed against it.

  “Shall we go?” Isabella said.

  “Lead the way,” I grinned.

  And let me watch that ass do its thing.

  Neither of us noticed the nurse’s knowing smile or the gentle shake of her head.

  The hospital was in full swing, taking no notice of me or—unbelievably—Isabella as we passed through the exit.

  Couldn’t they see the beauty she was?

  That they would not see a more gorgeous creature during their lives?

  Couldn’t they see how lucky they were to be in her presence?

  The sunlight was brazen when we passed through the twin doors.

  I raised my hand to block the light and squinted against it as we descended the delicate steps to the curb.

  A man dressed in a sharp uniform was there to greet her.

  He smiled the way I thought all people in the hospital should have smiled when she passed by.

  He extended a hand to take her by the arm but she twisted at the last minute and raised her hands to introduce me.

  “This is the pilot.”

  The uniformed man eyed me uncertainly, running his eyes over me from head to toe.

  Whatever he saw, he didn’t seem to like.

  A curdled look came over his face.

  “I wish I could say I’ve heard all about you, but of course, that would imply you knew a lot about yourself. I’m Liam Posiek, sheriff of this here town.”

  He extended his hand to me in the same gesture Isabella had earlier.

  He too stared at me, waiting for me to respond.

  I peered at his hand and extended my own toward his so they were less than an inch apart.

  What did this gesture even mean? I wondered.

  The look on the good sheriff’s face was not one of calmness as Isabella’s had been.

  His eyebrows drew down into a hard frown.

  He moved his hand over to meet mine and gripped it tight.

  He shook it and squeezed hard.

  I guessed it was part of the gesture and squeezed too.

  Liam’s expression changed immediately.

  His eyes pinched and he grimaced in pain.

  “Yeargh—!” he grunted before cutting himself off and yanking his hand away from mine.

  “Everything okay?” Isabella said.

  Liam had turned as red as the nearby fire hydrant, his teeth clenched, and his eyes watery and boggled.

  “Couldn’t be better.”

  He tucked his shaking hand under his armpit and looked on the verge of bursting into tears.

  “So, what’s the matter, fella?” he growled. “Cat got your tongue? What’s your name?”

  Isabella scowled at him.

  “He can’t remember his name, remember? He can’t tell you what his name is if he can’t remember it.”

  “Well, he’s got to have one. We can’t go around calling him “Hey, you!”

  “What name do you suggest?”

  “I don’t know.”

  The sheriff looked at me.

  “What name would you like? It’s not every day you get to change your name.”

  My mind was a total blank.

  “What you suggest?”

  The officer was about to speak but Isabella interrupted him.

  “You look a bit like Clint Eastwood when he was young.”

  “Looks like Clint Eastwood,” Liam said with a smirk. “Give me a break.”

  Isabella’s shoulders shrank.

  “Clint,” I said. “I like it.”

  She perked up immediately and smiled triumphantly.

  “See? He likes it.”

  “So?” Liam said petulantly. “Dogs like their names too. It doesn’t mean it’s perfect for them.”

  Liam seemed to attach a great deal of meaning to my new name.

  Or maybe it was that Isabella had given it to me.

  Names sure did seem to mean a lot to these people.

  I blinked at that.

  These people?

  That was a strange way to address them, I thought.

  Almost as if they weren’t my people.

  And what did that mean?

  That I wasn’t from here?

  That I was from another country?

  Another continent?

  The thought had come from the depths of that shadowy mist.

  I wondered if things would continue to bubble up and reveal themselves over time.

  I would need to keep tabs on my thoughts from now on if that turned out to be the case.

  It might be the key to unraveling the mystery of me.

  We climbed into Liam’s car.

  It was a squad car, Liam said, and his pride and joy.

  “She’s a Ford Police Interceptor, with 3.5 liters, twin-turbocharged V6. Three-hundred and sixty-five horsepower, and a top speed of one hundred and fifty miles per hour. She’s top of the range.”

  “The seats aren’t very comfortable,” Isabella said, wriggling on the front passenger seat to find a good spot.

  “It’s not about comfort,” Liam snapped. “It’s about speed.”

  I sat in the back behind the metal grille dividing me from them.

  I felt like a criminal already.

  “Will you be all right in the back?” Isabella said.

  “Sure. I guess. At least the seats are comfortable back here.”

  Liam gave me the worst stinkeye I thought I’d ever received.

  “Maybe being in the back will bring something back memory-wise,” he said.

  “I don’t think he’s a criminal,” Isabella said.

  “How do you know?”

  He squinted into the rearview mirror at me accusingly as he turned the ignition over and the engine roared into life.

  “What do you think?” Liam said to me. “Are you a criminal?”

  “It’s possible.”

  But I didn’t think so.

  B
reaking laws didn’t excite or attract me.

  But then again…

  “I suppose if I can’t remember who I am, who I was, any personality traits I had would be gone by now.”

  “Badness comes from the heart,” Liam said. “No matter what your memories are, that will never change.”

  I sensed a deep river of anger directed at me from the sheriff.

  I wondered what I’d done to deserve it.

  Had he met me before?

  If he had, wouldn’t he have mentioned it already?

  He tore his eyes from mine and focused them on Isabella.

  I sensed something was going on between them but with how standoffish she behaved, I wasn’t sure it was what the sheriff wanted.

  “Isabella, what happened to your pick-up?” I said as Liam pulled onto the road.

  “You remember my pick-up?” Isabella said.

  “The nurse mentioned it. That you were driving when you found me.”

  “I wouldn’t exactly say I found you. You fell from the sky. I just happened to be there when it happened.”

  “It was lucky for me you were. I might not have survived.”

  Isabella smiled over at me, her face divided by the wire mesh.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “And thanks for taking me in. I know you didn’t have to do that.”

  “It’s nothing,” Isabella said, waving a hand dismissively. “Anyone would have done the same.”

  Would they?

  I doubted it.

  “Maybe we should take you to the crash site,” Liam interrupted. “It might jog a memory or two.”

  “Not now,” Isabella said, settling into the front seat and staring out the window. “I want to go home and rest. It’s been a long night.”

  All the way to Isabella’s farm, Liam kept a closer eye on the rearview mirror—and me—than the road ahead.

  The small shops sat huddled beside one another along the main thoroughfare.

  People roamed the streets moving from one shop to another, but not in any great number.

  The streets were mostly empty.

  I watched as the small town slid away.

  Liam slowed to a crawl as we pulled up to a narrow road clothed in gravel.

  The driveway was long and ended around a shallow bend.

  The farmhouse was surprisingly large, with a broad archway that served as the main entrance.

  As we pulled up outside it, an old couple came down the short line of steps.

  Between them, they had enough features for me to identify them as Isabella’s parents.

  They smiled kindly and stood with their arms wrapped around each other’s waist.

  They waited for us to approach before they extended their hands toward me.

  I was surprised when they didn’t squeeze as hard as they could, so I didn’t do the same to them.

  They responded much more calmly than Liam had.

  “Welcome to McCormack farm,” Isabella’s mom said. “I’m Esme.”

  “And I’m Benjamin,” Isabella’s pop said. “We heard about what happened to you and hope you make yourself right at home.”

  “If there’s anything you need, just let us know,” Esme said. “Isabella, how about you show our guest to his room?”

  Isabella pushed the screen door and shouldered the door open.

  “It’s right up here,” she said, motioning toward the narrow staircase.

  A trail of photos lined the wall and with each step, I witnessed a sketch of Isabella’s entire early life.

  Her first wobbly tooth.

  Her first day of school.

  Graduating from high school, then college.

  She kept the same features throughout her life and looked much the same as a child as an adult.

  The same cheeky smile, the same broad bright eyes that became smokey by the time she reached her early twenties.

  “Do you want to see your room or don’tcha?”

  Isabella tapped her foot impatiently at the top of the stairs.

  She led me down the corridor leading left, then to the single door on the lefthand wall.

  She opened it and stepped inside.

  “You’ll be staying in my brother’s old room,” she said. “There’s no ensuite bathroom, so you’ll have to use the one down the hall.”

  “Where’s your room?” I said.

  She paused a moment before answering.

  “Right here.”

  She motioned to the room directly across from mine.

  “I figured I should keep you close. In case there’s, you know, anything you need. You’ll know where to find me.”

  The narrow hallway felt intimate and close.

  We had to turn sideways to avoid bumping into each other, but neither of us did.

  The room was simple but classy, with a double bed and portraits of local nature spots.

  The largest image was a watercolor of a big lake.

  “Is that where I crashed?” I asked.

  “That’s the one.”

  “What were you doing there in the middle of the night?”

  “Skinny dipping.”

  My eyebrows rose.

  She nudged me with her elbow.

  “Driving home.”

  “After a party?”

  “Something like that.”

  I ran an eye over the wardrobe and chest of drawers.

  She drifted over to the door and turned back to me.

  I would never get tired of seeing her “drift” like that.

  “You and my brother are about the same size,” she said. “Feel free to use his clothes while you’re here. He won’t notice.”

  “Are you sure?” I said, reaching into the suitcase from the hospital and lifted out the first item.

  A shirt with “BULLSHIT” written across it.

  Isabella laughed and clapped her hands.

  “Well, that’s just timeless.”

  “I’m starting to think it wasn’t a lost and found box but a dumpster around back.”

  Isabella laughed and covered her mouth with her hand.

  It was the first time I saw her laugh—really laugh—since I met her.

  She smiled up at me and her eyes darted away again.

  “Well, I suppose I should let you get comfortable. If you can. I’m going to go crash. I’m exhausted.”

  She turned to leave again but once more paused at the door.

  “I wasn’t going to mention this, but it’s something Liam mentioned earlier and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

  “What?”

  “He said no one has come forward to claim you or your plane yet. And news about your crash hasn’t appeared anywhere. I was wondering if there was a reason for that.”

  “Like what?”

  Her eyes searched mine, looking for something she couldn’t find.

  I wasn’t entirely sure what she thought would be there.

  She shook her head.

  “Nothing. It doesn’t matter. Hopefully, this whole thing will be over soon and you can return home to your friends. And loved ones.”

  She shut my door, and then her own.

  I let out a deep breath and drifted over to the windows.

  On one side, a view of the extensive family farm that stretched on for miles.

  Out another window, the front-drive.

  Liam was speaking to Isabella’s parents, his head bent and his voice low.

  I opened the window just an inch to let in some of the fresh air.

  A cool breeze licked my cheek.

  Isabella’s parents seemed very quiet, their arms no longer wrapped around each other.

  Instead, they were focused intently on his words.

  I listened closely and was surprised when I could pick up on snatches of his whispered words.

  Words of warning.

  “An unknown… stranger… should be careful… Isabella… fragile...”

  I couldn’t make out the entire conversation but I got the gist
of it.

  I was an unknown quantity and he was warning them not to take any risks with me.

  As Liam climbed back into his cruiser, he cast a look up at the house and caught me looking down at him.

  His face was unreadable, bereft of emotion.

  As he pulled away, Isabella’s parents drifted back inside, lines of concern etched on their faces.

  It was a good idea to be careful, especially with strangers.

  Especially with one who didn’t know what he was capable of.

  Isabella

  For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why I’d let a perfect stranger into my home.

  I mean, yes, I was there when he fell from the sky, and yes, I was the one who called the ambulance and hung around the hospital until I knew he would be okay, but that didn’t mean I had to take responsibility for him, did it?

  I had my own issues and concerns to deal with.

  I didn’t need to be babysitting a guy who was a stranger even to himself!

  And yet, I hadn’t hesitated to invite him into my parents’ home, to stay in my brother’s old room and wear his clothes.

  I’d learned through hard experience that strangers really were something to be afraid of.

  They were something you shouldn’t allow to enter your life unless you were certain they were reliable and wouldn’t slit your throat the first chance they got.

  I took a seat at my old desk and buried my face in the palm of my hands.

  Calm down, I told myself.

  Breathe.

  Stop panicking.

  I’d never responded like this with strangers before.

  But then again, since I’d returned home, I hadn’t crossed paths with a stranger even once.

  I knew everyone around Ashbourne.

  I grew up surrounded by them, knew all the juicy details of their past and their exploits, knew more about them than I ever cared to know.

  Nothing had changed.

  Nothing, until Clint showed up.

  My eyes rose to my bedroom door.

  He was there, I thought. Right on the other side of that door.

  In my brother’s old room.

  He would be trying on his clothes right now.

  How could I have been so stupid?

  How could I have let a complete stranger—a big stranger with enough muscles to wrestle Bully (our bull) to the floor in a single round—into my life?

  I knew what strangers were capable of.

  They could tear my life apart, could take my best friend in the whole world with them, and disappear her like a magic trick.