by Brenda Hiatt
“What kind of experiment?” If I kept talking, kept Mr. Farmer talking, maybe my aunt would just listen and not say anything. Besides, the more I knew, the better my chances were of figuring a way out of this.
“You stay here till the game is over. Bryce will let me know if your boy Stuart has an off game. If he does, I got some buddies who’ll help me get the whole truth outta you. Then we’ll have enough to take to the sheriff, the papers, everybody.”
He reached past me to open the meat locker, keeping the gun trained on Aunt Theresa—which kept me from trying anything. My reflexes might be superhuman, but all he had to do was pull that trigger. Unfortunately, I couldn’t really stop bullets.
“Now give me your purses, cell phones and whatever you have in your pockets—‘specially you, missie. Can’t have you calling anybody or using some alien teleportation device to escape.”
Since he had a gun, we didn’t argue, though I really hated giving up my omni. Not only could I have used it to contact someone on the Council to come get us, it would have kept us warm in the meat locker. He took it gingerly, then turned it over in his hand, examining it.
“Truitt’s friends didn’t believe him last night when he claimed this was from Mars—just laughed at him. Lucky for them he didn’t know how to make it zap them, or whatever it does.” He looked questioningly at me.
I shrugged, trying to look amused. “I never heard of anybody getting zapped by a flash drive. That’s all it is. I bought it in Kokomo a couple months ago—I still have the receipt. If you let us go, I can show it to you tomorrow.”
Scowling, he set it on the counter next to our purses, then reached past us to open the steel door. The blast of cold air made my aunt and me both shiver. Desperately, I tried one last time to talk him out of forcing us in there.
“You can’t seriously think anyone will consider a football player having a bad game as evidence of something as bizarre as aliens? That’s just—” I bit back the word “crazy” before it could slip out again.
Even so, his eyes blazed. “I ain’t the only one been worried ’bout an alien invasion, not by a long shot. Everybody knows the government’s been covering alien stuff up since the fifties, probably longer—Area 51 and those FEMA camps and whatnot. We just never had a chance to prove it. You’re going to be my proof, Miss Martian Queen. Inside. Now.”
He stepped back from the open cooler door and motioned again with the gun.
“Ted, please,” Aunt Theresa pleaded. “You can’t possibly—”
“Don’t tell me what I can’t do!” he shouted, practically shoving the gun in her face. “I know what everybody—including you—says about me in town, that I’m nothing but a drunk and a redneck. I can’t wait till the fine people of Jewel find out oh-so-upstanding Theresa Truitt’s been harboring an alien all these years.”
I gently tugged on her arm. “Come on, Aunt Theresa. Maybe he’ll let us go when he doesn’t get that proof he’s hoping for.” At least he wouldn’t be able to shoot us once we were behind the heavy steel door—and I’d have a chance to reach out to Rigel.
“That’s right,” he sneered. “Be a good little Martian and maybe they won’t do anything worse than experiments on you.” His laugh now held a distinctly maniacal edge. “See you after the game.”
He slammed the door shut, plunging us into darkness. A click told me he’d locked it from the outside.
“Oh, Marsha, I’m so sorry I insisted we—” Aunt Theresa began, almost whimpering, but I hushed her.
“Let me listen for a minute, okay?” I heard heavy footfalls retreating, then a cell phone being dialed.
“Hey, Bryce? You at the high school yet? Okay, let me know when you get there. Once the game starts, you can call or text me updates on how it’s going. Yeah, I got her right here. She won’t be able to give Stuart any extra alien powers or whatever tonight. Right. Oh, hey, keep an eye on her friends, too, and let me know if they leave the game early, okay? Yeah.”
There was a beep as he hung up, then the footsteps came closer again. “Hey, you ladies just chill for the next two-three hours, okay?” he called through the door. “Maybe take a nap.” With another insane-sounding laugh he stomped away again and the outer door opened and closed.
We were trapped.
10
Fusion
WHEN I turned back to my aunt, her fear hit me almost like a physical blow, it was so intense.
“Don’t worry, Aunt Theresa, it’ll be okay. You’ll see. We just have to wait him out. He’s bound to realize he doesn’t have enough evidence to convince anybody of anything. If all he knows is whatever Uncle Louie said last night, we should be fine. None of his friends believed him, right?”
I heard her take a shaky breath in the darkness. “But…what about that proof he thinks he’ll get tonight? If it’s true that—?”
“I’m sure Rigel will play just fine. We do enhance each other, like I told you, but we were together a lot today, right up till the end of school. It’s only when we have to stay apart—not touching—for days at a time that we start getting sick and weak. Like last Thanksgiving.”
Okay, when we were separated on Mars it had happened faster than that, but the serum we’d been given then might still be working. Just to be safe, I’d better tell Rigel to play his absolute best tonight—if I could do it without worrying him so much he’d insist on coming to rescue me right away instead of playing at all.
“There must be a light switch or cord in here somewhere. Let’s see if we can find it,” I suggested, to distract my aunt from being so scared—and to keep her busy while I worked out how to word my thought-message to Rigel.
After about five minutes, she exclaimed, “I found a chain!” A second later, the welcome light of a single bare bulb filled the chilly meat locker.
Or maybe not so welcome. “Ew.” I grimaced at the sight of two deer carcasses hanging near the back of the cooler and big trays of raw meat and sausages on shelves lining the walls. Maybe dark was better.
Aunt Theresa frowned at the carcasses, too. “Those had better be farmed,” she commented. “Deer season doesn’t start for weeks.”
I snorted a half-laugh. “Do you really think Mr. Farmer cares? Hunting deer out of season is pretty minor stuff compared to kidnapping.” I immediately regretted my words, because her fear spiked again.
“I…suppose you’re right. Do you think he intends to…to kill us? Especially if he doesn’t get his so-called proof, he won’t want us going to the police…”
“No, Aunt Theresa, he won’t. I promise.”
I instilled every ounce of confidence possible into my tone, along with a bit of “push.”
“I’d rather not do anything a, um, regular person can’t do, since I don’t want to give him real proof. But if that’s what it takes to save our lives, I think I can take him.”
She regarded me doubtfully. “How? He took your…what did you call it?”
“Omni. It’s not a weapon anyway, though I could have used it to call for help. And keep us warm. But I’m a lot stronger and faster than I used to be, because of my bond with Rigel. Plus I know taekwondo.”
“Shh!” She glanced at the big door.
“He’s not close enough to hear. I heard him go outside a few minutes ago, after he called Bryce. I’ll hear if he comes back.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Is that something else you can do that normal…I mean—”
“Yeah. We all tend to have extra-sensitive hearing, but nowadays mine—and Rigel’s—is even better. Just like I haven’t needed glasses since last fall. We will get out of this, Aunt Theresa. Please don’t worry.”
She nodded. Then shivered. I wished more than ever I still had my omni—or even a sweater.
“What time is it?” I asked after two or three more uncomfortable minutes passed.
She checked her watch. “A quarter to seven. The game will be beginning soon, won’t it?”
“Yeah, kickoff’s usually at seven. Why don’t we g
rab some of those styrofoam meat trays—they don’t look like they’ve been used—and sit on them? That’ll be warmer than sitting on the cement, and three hours is a long time to stand.”
I grabbed a big stack of trays off a shelf and spread them on the floor several deep. Gingerly, Aunt Theresa sat down and I did the same.
“That was very clever, Marsha. Thank you.” She sounded surprised, like she always did when she complimented me.
I grinned, determined to keep her spirits up. “A leader has to be able to improvise—and plan. Give me a few minutes to think through all our options and I’ll bet I can come up with some way to get us out of here.”
“Oh. Of…of course.” She looked positively impressed now.
Taking a deep breath, I shut my eyes and concentrated, focusing south and west, toward Jewel High—and Rigel.
Rigel? Can you hear me?
I waited. And waited. After a minute or two, I tried again. Rigel?
And again.
Rigel? Are you there?
M? It was faint but unmistakable. We just finished warmup drills. Aren’t you here yet? You sound kind of far away.
I kind of am. It looks like I’m not going to be able to make it there for kickoff. But even if I don’t get there at all, you need to play really, really well, okay?
As I feared, his next thought was laced with alarm. Why? What’s going on? Do I need to—
No! I’m totally fine. I’ll explain everything once the game’s over, I promise. For now, just play the absolute best you can. Please, Rigel!
There was a long pause. Then, Can’t you tell me now what’s going on? How can I concentrate on the game if I’m worrying about you?
I sighed. I’d been afraid of this. Okay. Remember how I wasn’t sure if Uncle Louie would be able to keep his mouth shut? Well, he didn’t. And now some crazy conspiracy theorist thinks if you have a bad game while I’m not there, it’ll prove we’re both aliens.
You mean he’s keeping you somewhere against your will? Keeping you from coming to the game?
Yes, but we’re perfectly safe, I promise! As long as we make sure he doesn’t get his so-called proof, I’m sure he’ll let us go after the game.
Who’s “we”? And where are you?
I hesitated. If I told him, I knew he’d be tempted to launch a rescue right away. And Mr. Farmer had told Bryce to keep an eye on all my friends…
Aunt Theresa is with me, though that wasn’t part of his plan. I’ll tell you where we are as soon as the game is over. We should be totally safe till then. If I think we need somebody to come get us sooner, I’ll let you know right away.
Promise? I could sense his desperation.
I knew how he felt, since I’d experienced the same thing on his behalf more than once over the past year. But keeping the secret of Martians on Earth was way more important than my personal safety, so I infused all the confidence I could into my next thought.
Yes. I promise. We really are fine, Rigel. He just wants you to have a terrible game so he can point to that as evidence of his theory. If you don’t play at all, he’ll consider that even bigger proof and he’ll use it to fire up all the other nut jobs paranoid about an alien takeover. We—you—have to make sure he can’t do that.
Okay, he finally sent, with obvious reluctance. I’ll do all I can to make this my best game ever. For you. I love you, M. Please stay safe. For me.
I will. I love you Rigel. I’ll see you later tonight, I promise!
Once I was sure our connection was broken—Rigel probably had to get out on the field any second—I silently let out the breath I’d been holding and turned to Aunt Theresa, letting my relief show.
“I just remembered! I have something that will work as a fail-safe on the off-chance Mr. Farmer won’t let us go after the game. When I got back to Earth, the Echtran Council insisted I have a microscopic tracker put in so if I was ever in danger someone could find me. I don’t want to bring them here in force unless I have to, since that would just confirm Mr. Farmer’s suspicion, but if worse comes to worst, I can activate it.”
“And then what?”
“Then Mr. Cormac—my Bodyguard, remember?—will know exactly where I am. He’ll contact a few others for backup and they’ll come rescue us.”
I willed her to believe me since I’d rather not tell her—or anyone—about Rigel’s and my long-distance telepathy just yet.
Looking cautiously relieved, she nodded. “That…was very foresighted of them.”
“Wasn’t it?” Wondering if anything like I’d described actually existed, I summoned a bright smile. “Now all we have to do is try to stay warm…and wait.”
The next two-plus hours shut in that creepy cooler with Aunt Theresa were among the strangest of my life—which was saying a lot.
She and I had lived together in the same house since I was four, but we’d hardly ever really talked with each other. Now there was nothing else to do. So, after several minutes of awkward silence…we talked.
Aunt Theresa spoke first. “Marsha, I never should have insisted we come here. You said from the first you thought the timing was odd for a photo shoot. I should have listened.”
“No, this is way more my fault than yours. I should have trusted you when you said Uncle Louie wouldn’t be able to resist talking about the whole Martian thing, but I told him anyway.”
She managed a slight smile. “I’m afraid he’s never been able to keep a secret, as long as I’ve known him. I did hope he’d show more discretion for something this important but he apparently just doesn’t have it in him. Of course, it’s possible he’d have begun suspecting sooner or later anyway.”
“It definitely hasn’t been easy keeping you guys from finding out this past year. Especially when you got mad at me for doing things that… Well, for things I couldn’t explain.”
For a long moment she looked at me, her brows furrowed. “Yes. Yes, I’m sure that must have been very difficult for you. Last year, when you sneaked out of the house at midnight to meet that boy—Rigel Stuart, I mean—at the arboretum—?”
“Okay, I’ll admit that wasn’t one of the smartest things I’ve done, but we were pretty desperate to talk to each other because of some Martian political stuff we’d just learned at his birthday party the night before.”
I hadn’t told her yet about Sean and the whole “destined Consort” thing, so I went on to explain how fines and pairings traditionally worked in Nuath and why it mattered so much to some Echtrans. “But like I’ve told the Council, with everyone relocating to Earth over the next few decades, there are lots of old traditions that will have to change. That Consort one, for sure.”
Her eyes had gone wider and wider as I talked but now she shook her head. “I can see why you were so upset. At the time, I truly believed Sean O’Gara would be a better influence than the Stuart boy. Lili—”
“Yes, I’m sure Mrs. O’Gara did all she could to convince you of that—and she can be super convincing. It’s…kind of a power of hers.” I didn’t mention I now had that power, too. Best to keep a few secrets.
Aunt Theresa blinked. “Really? Hm. Now I feel I’ve been quite gullible.” She hmphed, sounding more like herself than she had since we’d been shut into the cooler. “No wonder she encouraged me to keep such a close eye on you after that incident.”
“What, like you weren’t strict enough already?”
I felt a little gullible myself now, remembering how outraged Mrs. O had acted about the way my aunt treated me while actually encouraging her to be stricter. Which prompted me to ask something I’d never dared before.
“Why have you always been so strict, Aunt Theresa? Even when I was little, way before I had to hide any Martian stuff from you, I felt like you never really trusted me.”
She didn’t answer right away. Focusing, I sensed a conflict raging inside her that had nothing to do with the danger we were in right now. After a moment, she gave a little nod.
“I suppose I may as well tell you, th
ough for years I’ve tried to convince myself… I can’t recall if I ever mentioned that I had a sister?”
It was my turn to blink. “No. I’m sure I’d remember something like that. Why—?”
“She died quite young, at the age of fourteen. I was just seventeen at the time myself.”
Though her voice was nearly emotionless, her feelings were anything but. I sensed grief, resentment, anger…and guilt.
“What happened?” I prompted quietly.
Aunt Theresa heaved a sigh. “As the youngest, Janet was always the apple of our mother’s eye. Both our parents, really. As far as they were concerned, she could do no wrong. She was their perfect little angel, while I…I was expected to be the responsible one. To keep a protective eye on her whenever we were at school or otherwise away from our parents.”
“That doesn’t seem very fair. So they were way stricter with you than with her?”
A small, sad smile touched her lips. “That’s putting it rather mildly. My slightest infraction was invariably punished, so I became very careful never to commit any. Janet, on the other hand, realized early on that she could get away with nearly anything. On the few occasions when I tried to warn our parents about her behavior for fear she might land herself in real trouble, they punished me rather than her. Said I was jealous. A tattletale.”
She swallowed, her smile gone.
“I…I should have kept warning them anyway. They might have been able to prevent what happened, had I been able to convince them. But—” Sadly, she shook her head.
“What did happen?” I asked, though now I dreaded the answer.
“By the time she started high school, Janet had fallen in with a bad crowd, many of them older. She was always the popular one, you see, though she was three years younger than I. The pretty one. I used to warn her about the boys she spent time with, but she only ever laughed at me. Then one Saturday night she went joy riding with three older boys. There was a terrible car accident out on state road 311. She and one of the boys were killed and the other two boys hospitalized. The police said later they had all been drinking and drag racing…”