The wooden steps up to Stella’s deck rise in front of me, and I fly up them, my hand sliding along the railing. Several slivers pinch my fingers but my skin is numb, and I barely feel them.
The windows at the top are dark, so I bang my fists against the glass patio door and scream. Within seconds, a light glows inside and Stella’s shadow moves slowly through the house. Too slow. I bang harder against the door until the blinds open and Stella appears. Tangled hair frames her face haphazardly, and her wrinkled eyes squint and then widen when she sees me. She slides the door open and I tumble in.
“Sage–what…what is it?” She ties the sash of her flannel robe and combs fingers through her hair.
“Adam.” The raw words scratch my throat. “Adam’s here.”
Stella’s mouth drops, and her hands fly to her lips. Her frantic eyes dart around me to the deck as if he’s behind me.
“Here?” she asks pointing, her finger down.
“The beach. I left him on the b-b-each.” Cold. I’m so cold. I can’t control my words or my voice or my thoughts. The room spins around me, and I step backwards. Stella grabs my arm.
“Are you okay? Why are you all wet?” Her eyes follow me with concern. I shake my head and the fuzziness fades. Adam. I need to think about him.
“He was in the lake. We need to call 911,” I say, gaining more control of my shaky voice. “He can’t move. He’s got hypothermia or something.” She blinks several times. Big, rapid blinks. She looks like I feel. Confused and afraid and not sure what to do. But this is Stella, Adam’s mom, normally cool and level-headed, always ready with the right answer to a problem or hot chocolate on a cold day. I need her to be that Stella. Adam needs her to be that Stella.
“Adam, here?” She points her finger again. “Are you sure about that?”
“He was in the lake. Please, he needs help. No, I’m not crazy. Where’s your phone? I can call--”
“Wait.” She turns in a circle surveying her living room. The sofa and bookcase are dark shadows in the dim light.
“Stella, please. It’s an emergency” I shiver and wrap my arms around my chest.
“No, no ambulance,” she says shaking her head. The stunned mask on her face fades slightly. “Blankets, we need blankets.” She moves across the room to the closet and leans in retrieving clothes, blankets, and boots, tossing them in my direction. “And you should change,” she says. “Here take these.” She tosses clothes in my direction. They land at my feet, and I bend over to pick up a green velour tracksuit I never saw Stella wear before.
She stops in front of me, hugging a pile of flannel blankets. “Where is he?”
“To the right of the fire pit. But wait—”
She blurs by me and out the door, disappearing down the steps. I follow her out onto the deck, watching her robe trail behind her as she reaches the ground below and starts running.
“Wait,” I call, but she either doesn’t hear me or doesn’t choose to. I drop the clothes and follow her, nearly stumbling halfway down the steps. Regaining my balance, I look to the beach. She’s now a tiny shadow fading in the distance. Who knew Stella could run so fast? I trudge after her, as fast as my tired muscles and burning lungs will allow. When I catch up, she’s already with Adam, his head cradled in her arms.
“….the ship?” I catch the end of Stella’s question as I slow to walk the last steps. Adam answers, his voice a quiet hum blocked beneath the sound of the wind and water. Stella looks up at me and points towards the pile of blankets she had dropped a few feet away.
“Blanket,” she says. I hand her the pile of plaid fleece and she wraps it around Adam. “I need to get him to the truck. Stay with him.”
My stiff knees bend beside Stella. Her wild eyes drift off to the distance. She looks back before lowering Adam gently onto a pile of blankets, pushing herself to her feet, and running towards the cabins.
Adam curls onto his side and shakes. His eyes are closed, and I inch closer to him, my hands hovering over him unsure of what to do. I tuck the edges of the blanket in closer around him and lean in until I can whisper in his ear.
“It-it will be okay.” I fight to keep my voice steady, the words even. He doesn’t react, not even a sound or a twitch. I roll back on my heels, creating a gap between us, and he jerks. Fingers circle tightly around mine, and I shiver at the sparks along my skin. Exhaling the trapped breath from my lungs, I relax and squeeze his hand. It will be okay. I have to believe that.
Headlights from Stella’s truck bounce across us and the beach, and I shield my eyes from the blazing mix of bright and shadows. Numbness spreads through me, overpowering my thoughts and I am caught between a dream of nothingness and a reality of cold. Everything is slow motion. Stella getting out of the truck, walking towards us, opening her mouth.
Something whips across my face, and my hands clutch the soft fuzz between my fingertips. Warm. Blanket.
“I told you to change into the dry clothes.” Stella pounds words into my ears. “I don’t have time to deal with you. Focus, Sage. Help me get Adam in the truck.” She holds out a hand, and I wrap my fingers tightly around hers. She pulls me up, and my weak legs wobble, threatening to bring me back to the ground. Focus, Sage. I’m not sure if the words are Stella’s or mine. I hesitate and let go of her, braving a shaky tentative step.
“I’m—” I twist, looking for Stella, but she’s moved on to Adam, helping him to his feet.
“Help here, please.” Her tone is forceful, and I push away the cloud in my head and run to her side. “Here, take the other side.”
I slide my shoulder into the crook of his arm and hook my arm around his back. He smells of the lake, and when his skin presses into mine, my heart dances at his touch. He looks down at me and smiles. Then his eyelids fall like broken window shades, trying to open but sinking with the weight. His head lolls to one side, and the electricity in me crackles into fear. Stella prods him and he blinks. We step forward and stop. Move and stop, move and stop. Inches, sometimes feet.
When we reach the truck, Stella lets go of Adam long enough to pull open the back door. She guides him to the backseat, throws another blanket over him, and slams the door before turning to me.
“I need you to go home,” she says.
I shake my head.
“Please, Sage. I need you to go.” Her words are firm, and her eyes plead desperately. The numbness fades and a warm fire erupts inside of me.
“No,” I say. “I’m not leaving until I know what’s going on. I need to know he’s all right.” Shadows cross Stella’s face, and she opens and closes her mouth. Don’t say no. Don’t say no. Don’t say no.
She drops her head, sighs and climbs into the driver’s side of the truck, slamming the door. I don’t wait for the invitation. I race around the hood and yank on the metal handle to open the door. I step up on the running board and climb in, heaving the heavy door shut. Stella starts the engine, throwing an arm across the seat as she backs the truck along the beach to the gravel drive.
“You are not to say a word.” Her voice is ice. None of her usual motherly warmth, just an eerie un-Stella-like calm. She doesn’t look in my direction, only straight ahead, with her hands locked on the wheel.
“Okay,” I keep my hands pressed together stiffly on my lap.
“Good,” Stella shifts the truck into drive, and we move. To Star Harbor. To the hospital. To help.
But Stella turns left onto Star Harbor Road. Left is away from Star Harbor. Left is forests and hills and nothingness.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
She doesn't answer.
Chapter Six
The truck barrels down the road. Tree trunks flash by, illuminated only for seconds by the headlights. I grip the door handle, every muscle in my body fighting to keep myself upright as the road twists and curves.
“Slow down,” I scream. Stella’s eyes fixate on the road, and her lips press into a tight line. “Stella?”
She ignores me. Her fingers coil
tightly around the steering wheel and she licks her lips as she shifts her right hand a half an inch. If anything, we are gaining speed. This is all crazy. Stella, Adam, the lights on the beach. I clench my hands, digging my nails into skin as the car swerves, slamming me into the door.
Adam groans from the backseat. I lean over the back of mine to check on him. He’s curled on his side, his hand resting across his abdomen, his skin white and shiny with sweat. The truck lurches again and turns, and he nearly rolls to the floor.
“Stella, slow down. You’re hurting Adam.” I shout the words so loud the back of my throat burns. I know she can hear me. Wisconsin and Canada can hear me. My heart explodes like fireworks, and my sweaty hands slip from their tight grip around the armrest. “Stella.”
She slams on the brakes, and I nearly crash through the windshield. A thump from the backseat announces Adam is on the floor. I open my mouth, ready to protest, but the truck moves again, veering off the road and into the blackness of the forest. We’re not on a road, at least I can’t see one through the hundreds of trees whizzing by, their branches and leaves scraping across the roof and the windows. I start screaming.
I scream and scream and scream. I scream until my lungs burn and my eyes water. I scream with my palms pressed against the dashboard as if they can stop the truck from moving.
The headlights bounce off naked trees, tall pines with their ghostly branches, and weeds and snow and dark shadows I can’t identify. I keep screaming and we keep going, deeper and deeper into the woods. “Stop, Stella stop.” My eyes focus on where the truck is headed, and I’m afraid to look away.
The truck shudders and brakes, and I’m pushed into the dash, nearly colliding with the windshield. I sink back to the seat and rub my sore wrist. Stella grabs my shoulders and forces me to her.
“I told you to keep your mouth shut.” Her voice is high enough that I’m surprised the windows aren’t shattering. She gasps with each breath, her face deepening in color from pink to red. Her gaze crashes into mine, her pupils shrinking into tiny black pinpricks. I inch back from her, tiny quivers of fear growing inside.
“I’m sorry.” My voice shakes. Stella’s eyes swell and she releases her grip from my shoulders. Her expression softens and signs of the old Stella flash across her face.
“No, I am.” She leans back into the seat and sighs. “I shouldn’t have done that. But this is as far as I can let you come, Sage. I need you to wait here in the truck for me. Can you do that?”
I barely have time to nod before she climbs out.
I look back at Adam, and my throat clogs. He’s pale and lifeless like a wax figurine. I swallow back fear. I want to reach for him, to wrap my arms around him. To feel for heat, and life, and assurance that he’s still my Adam and he will be fine. That this crazy night isn’t happening.
Stella opens the back door and a crisp breeze blows in. Her arms reach underneath his shoulders, pulling him up. His eyes flutter and he turns to her, mumbling. I strain to hear his words, but he’s too far away. She slides him backwards, dragging him out of the truck, his legs falling limply to the ground.
“Stella, do you need help?” I lean back over the seats, ready to swing the rest of my body across and crawl out after them, but the door slams with no response.
I turn around to where the headlights illuminate a clearing in the woods. In the center is a cascading pile of thick blocks that is as tall as the truck. It’s shaped like a pyramid, with smooth white bricks carefully arranged into seven or eight layers climbing to a large flat top.
I blink. It is a pyramid.
There’s a legend about the Star Harbor pyramids. Stone altars hidden in the woods. They’re like Bigfoot in these parts. Nobody’s ever seen them, save the few locals who claim to have stumbled across them but never remember how to return. Over the years there have been reporters and guidebook authors and the random tourist scouring the thick forests, but nobody ever finds them.
But I’m looking at one, and Stella knew exactly how to find it. My heart squeezes into my throat as I twist around, looking through the truck windows for Stella and Adam. I don’t see them. It’s only me in this empty truck with this pyramid like altar in front of me.
Altar?
Why did I think that? Creepiness spreads across my skin like thousands of crawling bugs. I shiver and shake it off. Pulling the door handle with a cautious hand, I climb out. My eyes lock on the structure in front of me. I step closer and closer and closer until I make out intricate carvings in the stone, shapes, maybe letters. They are dark shadows, barely more than blemishes against the white sparkling rock that glows under the lights of the truck.
“Stella?” Shaky words tumble from me. I am a mess of disbelief and fear. No response. I blink my eyes until I can see her. She crouches close to the ground, her knees bent and her lips pressed together as she drags Adam’s sagging body across the forest floor towards the stones. Terror circles me in a rapid spin.
I want Stella to look up and ask me why I’m not in the truck. I want her to laugh and tell me not to be afraid. That everything’s okay. That this is normal. I close my eyes. This isn’t real. This can’t be real. I open my eyes. It is.
Stella is dragging Adam.
My stomach lurches violently, and I swallow hard. There has to be an explanation. There have to be answers. Something that makes sense. But what?
“Stop this,” I yell. “Stop. Stop. Stop. This is crazy.” Stella pauses and looks at me. Her eyes flash wildly, and she looks like a stranger. She is not the woman I’ve known for half my life. Not the woman who bandaged my cuts when I flipped over on Adam’s mountain bike. Not the woman who made mac and cheese every year the night after Adam left because she knew it was my favorite and she wanted to cheer me up. Not the woman who took me to buy my first box of tampons.
We’re surrounded by an eerie quiet. Only our foggy breath filling the air between us. The moments pass and pass and pass.
It’s so quiet.
I shatter the silence. “Stella. Please…please tell me he’s okay?” I sound like my mom, too much like my mom.
Stella looks away and shakes her head. She bends back over Adam, who is white and listless, gripping him from beneath the arms. They begin moving again, Adam’s bare feet grazing through the dead leaves and dirt.
Several feet from the pyramid, Stella stops and leans over Adam. She whispers in his ear, and his eyes flutter open and he looks to the sky. I look with him. Nothing but the inky clouded night.
“Ste-” I start to speak and move to them, but I’m stopped by an explosion of light. It’s as if someone flipped a light switch filling the forest with bright colorless heat. It scorches my eyes, and I hide my face in my elbow. I scrunch my eyes together, but the light still penetrates, and they burn and water. What is this? What’s going on?
I wait for the light to fade. For my eyes to adjust or for the dark forest to return, but the moments drift endlessly by and the light remains. I struggle to open my eyes and stare into the light, like I tried to stare into the sun when I was a kid.
I blink. Everything is white light except the black dots that dance in my vision.
I blink again. Shadows are forming. Blurry objects bathed by the light. I can make out the pyramid of stones bathed in the light.
Blink.
Adam and Stella. They’re moving again. Or are they? Everything’s so fuzzy. “Stella?…Adam?…Stella?”
I blink again. The ground is light and shadows, and I can see better now. I see the stones and Adam, who is sitting on the ground with Stella beside him. They are looking up. I shield my eyes with my arm and look with them. Into the light blaring down from the sky.
Only the light’s not coming from the sky.
There’s a dark circular shadow spinning just above us. Light gushes from beneath it onto the forest floor. It’s still hard to see, but I can make out the metal edges. Hanging in the air. Spinning in the air.
My body grows numb as I recognize the object above
us. I’ve seen it before. In grainy photos on the front of those flimsy tabloids at the supermarket. On the television programs Mark likes to watch on the cable when my mom remembers to pay the bill.
Silver spinning metal. Bright lights.
I swallow and my dry throat burns.
It’s not real. U.F.O.s aren’t real. And certainly not here in the middle of nowhere. In these dead woods, in this small town, in front of this meaningless girl.
“Stella?” I can’t hold back the shaky panic in my voice. “Stella - what is that?” Warm air tickles the back of my neck, and my heart explodes. I spin to see what’s behind me, but all I see is a blur of the forest and light and shadows.
I turn back to the UFO, my body shaking and trembling. I step backwards. Something’s screaming in my head to back up further, to run.
But before I can move, the light explodes again, silently, but with tremendous force. I’m caught in the gust, propelled backwards. I collide with the ground, my shoulder and hip grinding with the dirt. My head slams into the forest floor and a violent burst of pain explodes behind my eyes.
My vision swims. The dark, the trees, the light.
And the pain…the pain…
Nothing.
Chapter Seven
Light.
Too much light. I blink stars from my eyes. My wet cheek sticks to the leather backseat of Stella’s truck. My right arm is wedged beneath me, thousands of invisible needles pricking my skin from elbow to wrist. I groan and shift onto my stomach, freeing my arm.
It takes a moment to remember. Adam. The stones. The light. The UFO. The UFO. My heart races. Where are Stella and Adam? Are they okay? I push myself up on my trembling arms.
“Adam?” I whisper. “Stella?”
No answer.
I push myself up further, until my eyes are level with the bottom of the window, and I can peek out. The light has faded, the only glow coming from the truck’s headlights. There is no sign of the other light—that glowing light that filled the forest. I look to the sky. No spinning objects. Just the dusky empty night.
One Starry Knight: A Scifi Alien Love Story (The Starry Knight Saga Book 1) Page 4