Then he retrieved his second cell phone which was strapped to the underside of his sink and dialed his doctor’s number.
Dr. Raymond picked up on the third ring. “Devon, did they call you in again?”
Wiping his sweaty palms on his towel, he said, “Yes. At 3 pm.”
“I’ll come by your house Thursday night at ten and we’ll take care of it.”
“Thank you.” He hung up the phone. There. Dr. Raymond would remove the implant, and Devon would know what the government planned to do to him this time.
***
Right at 3 pm, two men in military uniforms led Devon to the second level of the Dulce underground base. He stripped and was weighed before he slipped into an off-white jump suit and picked up his identification card. He didn’t speak as the men walked him to a shuttle. The tunnel was dim with only phosphorous lights which cast a yellow hue over the cavern.
He wasn’t supposed to remember being here, so he refrained from getting on the shuttle until instructed. He sat next to the man operating the vehicle.
“Card?”
He presented the card which the man scanned. Then he pressed his hand to the scanner to verify his identification.
Satisfied, the man nodded and shifted the shuttle into drive. “You’re due for level four.”
Devon closed his eyes in relief. Not that level four would be pleasant, but it beat level six, which was termed “Nightmare Hall” for good reason.
No one spoke during the ride through the second level. When the shuttle stopped at the elevator, he got out. As if on cue, the doors opened and the alien masquerading as the blonde woman in a blue jump suit waved him in. He hesitated, briefly recalling the way Vanessa responded to her. Vanessa had every right to shy away from the blonde. He knew what her being here meant, and he knew the blonde took a twisted delight in playing cat and mouse with him.
“Come on in, silly. I don’t bite.” She giggled and reached out to take him by the hand.
His skin crawled at the contact. Before she could deduct that he remembered her, he removed his hand from hers, entered the elevator and stood at the other end of the small space.
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
He shook his head. “Am I supposed to?”
Giggling again, she shrugged. “I guess not.” She winked at him before she pressed the number four.
The elevator doors hissed and the elevator gave a low hum as it went down.
He closed his eyes for a moment and focused on his breathing. She could pick up on fear, and the last thing he wanted to do was give her any more power over him than she would have once they strapped him to the table.
When he opened his eyes, he caught her staring at him. For a moment her eyes flickered, and he blinked. He’d never seen her in her true form, but he knew she wasn’t an alien grey. Reptoid, perhaps? He’d heard Reptoid aliens lived at level 5 and who-knew-what lived at level 7 on down.
After all he’d seen and heard, he wouldn’t be surprised if they really did exist. He might be privy to more information than the average person, but he wasn’t that high up the chain. So many things were going on behind the scenes. That woman he caught sneaking into the Bismarck capitol had no idea what she was tapping into, and if she was smart, she’d finally back off because if she didn’t, it was just a matter of time before they came after her.
The doors hissed open and a white corridor came into view. The blonde got out of the elevator and looked expectantly at him. What choice did he have?
He joined her. The blue door up ahead loomed before him and the sense of dread in his gut twisted tighter. Images of his past visits flashed through his mind. Some things he wished he didn’t remember. Well, there was no going back now. He knew too much. He’d done too much.
“We’re going to have a lot of fun,” the blonde whispered suggestively.
Without another word, she led him to the door and opened it. Slowly exhaling, he stepped forward.
Chapter Fourteen
Devon woke up at 11:30 pm. His heart beat was unusually fast and his back hurt. Where was he? Anxious, he glanced around and quickly realized he was in his bed, safe at home. Breathing fast, he tried to sit up but a sharp stab of pain in his lower back stopped him so he collapsed on the bed.
Dr. Raymond ran over to him. “It was a real doozy this time, Devon.”
In that instant, he remembered that he had gone to Dulce. He swallowed despite his raw throat. He’d been screaming. That was the only reason his throat hurt as much as it did. He choked back on a cry. What had they done to him this time?
“They put this in you. I got it before it became a part of your spinal column.”
Devon blinked away the tears and focused on the jelly-like implant with two dangling limbs.
“Whatever this one was, it was alive.”
“A-alive?” He struggled to breathe through the fear coming at him full force. That thing had been inside of him, wrapping itself in him like a parasite? It was half an inch long. None of the other implants were that big either.
The doctor turned to the dresser in the bedroom and placed the implant in the box with the other five implants he’d removed on other occasions. Turning his sympathetic gaze in Devon’s direction, he asked, “Are you sure you want to know what happened at Dulce?”
Devon dreaded that question. Finding out meant he had to relive the whole nightmare all over again. Each time they were done with him, they dropped him off at home and he didn’t remember a thing. It wasn’t until that fateful day that Dr. Raymond gave him an MRI and found the first implant that Devon realized he was nothing more than a lab rat. Gripping the sheets beneath him, he steeled his resolve. He had to be strong. He had to know what they did and what they wanted. He had to. Failure was not an option. Failure meant someone would come up to his door with a gun and a bullet.
He tried to speak but his voice wouldn’t come, so he nodded.
With a heavy sigh, the doctor lifted the needle. “I’m sorry, Devon.” He sat beside him on the bed and held onto Devon’s stiff arm.
The needle went in with little effort, and the cool liquid found its way into his vein. Soon. Soon he’d recall the horror he’d just been through. Be strong. You can do this!
Dr. Raymond pulled out the needle and placed a band-aid onto the puncture wound. “I’ll be here in case you go into another convulsion.”
Devon managed a slight nod.
The doctor helped him up.
Though he was weak, he made it to the bathroom. It was the same routine. He knew what to expect. He knelt by the toilet and waited. The sensation of a chill passing over him was the indication he needed. He leaned over the toilet and closed his eyes.
He could do this. He had to remember. This was much too important. His life depended on him knowing the keyword and the name of his alternate personality. So far, he’d accumulated five separate personalities. This was his sixth. And as long as he played along with his superiors, he was safe.
I have to do this.
The chill seeped into his bones, making him shake. The tremors started off small—easy enough to tolerate. But he knew what was coming. He took deep breaths, counting to ten before he slowly exhaled. This simple exercise, he’d learned, warded off the nausea until the end.
An image flashed in his mind. He tried to focus on it, but it quickly blurred back into the recesses of his repressed memories. Not yet. It’d be a little longer. He gripped the sides of the cool porcelain toilet. Within a half hour, it would be over. The wait wouldn’t be long. Another minute or two and it’d start.
His teeth began to chatter even as he willed off the increasing cold. A slight amount of bile rose up in his throat. He took a deep breath. 1, 2, 3, 4.... Behind him, the doctor wrapped a warm blanket over his shoulders, and his nausea receded. He exhaled. The reprieve was temporary, but he was glad for it.
He waited there in the silent room for a minute when the first clear image opened in his mind. The tall blonde woman stoo
d over him. She smiled, but it wasn’t friendly. It was the smile a predator gave its prey before it struck.
“It’s always nice to see you, Devon,” she whispered against his ear. Her hand traveled up his leg until it reached his inner thigh.
He struggled to get away but he was frozen to the table. Not again. He didn’t want to go through this again!
The scene faded, and Devon’s eyes flew open. He was staring into the empty toilet bowl and shaking all over, despite the blanket or the fact that the doctor turned the heating lamp on. So cold. Nothing could conquer the icy sensation pumping through his veins.
A sharp pain under his fingernails made him grit his teeth. He closed his eyes again, and this time, he was strapped to a chair. Two men sat on either side of him. They took turns digging razors under his nails. He screamed and tried to wiggle his way out of the chair but couldn’t.
Once again, his focus returned to the toilet in front of him as the feeling of nausea increased. That meant the flashes of memory would be coming faster. He clung to the rim of the toilet, his body on the edge of convulsing uncontrollably. The doctor came near with a syringe, but he closed his eyes and let the repressed memories surface.
He hung by his wrists in a room that made him shiver. His stomach growled and his dry tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. How long he’d been there was anybody’s guess, but his arms were numb and he’d long since lost the battle to hold off on urinating. He groaned. He wanted to pass out but couldn’t, not with the IV they’d hooked him up to in order to keep him conscious.
Rodents scampered across the floor and tickled his bare feet. He struggled to touch the floor, to steady himself so he wouldn’t swing whenever they did run into him. But his toes merely brushed the surface of the rough wood. A snake hissed and slithered around his ankle. They had snakes here? This time when he shivered, it was from fear. He hated those things more than any of the rodents in the room.
Then another memory flashed in his mind and he was strapped to a board and shoved under water. By instinct he held his breath. Exhaustion fought with his need to struggle. He was weak. So weak he could hardly move, and his wrists and fingernails were sore. He was still hungry but had long since given up on the idea of food. How he wanted to go to sleep, to ease the duress his body had been under for the past two days. His lungs began to burn, and just when he was about to inhale the water, they brought him out. He gasped the warm air. Before he had time to see who was handling him, they thrust him back into the water and the process repeated itself.
Bile rose up in his throat and his eyes flew open. He was back in his house, staring at the clear water of the toilet. Even as he trembled, he held onto the rim, his fingers still tender and his wrists rubbed raw from the rope. It all had come back to him, and he remembered that moment his personality split in half—when he reached the point where he couldn’t take it anymore.
Luke. The blonde woman named him Luke. That was his new identity. And the code phrase was level six reinforcement.
What did that mean? What was he supposed to do when he heard that?
He gritted his teeth and cried out as the acute pain traveled the length of his back where they had implanted him with that thing—that living creature the doctor had removed from him. His body jerked forward.
“That’s it,” the doctor said, getting ready to stick him with the needle.
“No! I need to remember!” Devon screamed as vomit rose up in his throat. Almost there. One more piece to the puzzle and this whole ordeal would be over.
The doctor slowly stepped back.
Level six reinforcement. For what?
The blonde woman returned in another memory. She held a needle in front of him and smiled, her eyes turning black and a trace of her horns projecting from her forehead. “The leader’s mark. You will inject those who resist with the chip in here.”
The final memory in place, Devon released the vomit and threw up in the toilet. As soon as he emptied his stomach, he sat back.
The doctor inserted the needle into Devon’s arm. His stomach soon settled and the chills left in quick succession. The doctor helped him up. Thankful to have the experience behind him, Devon leaned on the other man as he lumbered to his bed. As soon as he collapsed on the mattress, his eyelids grew heavy.
“I want to take that thing they put in you and see exactly what it is,” the doctor told him.
Devon nodded, too tired to fully comprehend what the doctor said.
The doctor pulled the sheet and blanket up to his neck.
Devon was barely aware of the doctor leaving his house. A peaceful numbing sensation swept over him, and after the pain he went through, he just wanted to enjoy this moment. His breathing grew slower. He felt sleep coming swiftly. His last thought, before he finally dozed off was what the blonde meant by the leader, but he knew he’d find that one out soon enough.
Chapter Fifteen
Two months later...
Devon knew it was a bad idea to come here. He had no business tempting fate. As long as he stayed away, she would most likely give up on her suicidal pursuit to find out what was going on. And yet, he couldn’t stay away. Or maybe it wasn’t that he couldn’t but more of the fact that he didn’t want to.
Whatever the case, one thing was for sure: this was a bad idea. But that didn’t stop him from entering the mall, nor did it stop him from stepping into the store where she worked. His gaze drifted up to the camera set at the entrance. No longer did the stores hide the fact that they had surveillance. Now it was all in the open.
Any pretense of privacy was being eroded right in front of everyone, and very few people seemed to notice or care. It was unfortunate. They were trading freedom for security, and in the end, it would be their undoing. But this was the aliens’ plan. How nicely it all fit into place.
“Can I help you?” a young blonde woman asked as she came up to him.
He wondered if he should ask for her co-worker or just “look”. But then, what would he look for in the women’s section of a store? Finally, he said, “I have a matter to discuss with someone who works here. She’s 5’4”, a reddish blonde hair, probably in her early 30s.” And pretty. He willed that thought away.
“Oh, you mean Autumn.”
So that was her name. “Right.”
“She’s outside on a break. She likes to smoke a lot.” She rolled her eyes and giggled.
“Thank you,” he replied, deciding that women as young as the woman in front of him had limited appeal.
His boss preferred those types—probably because they weren’t smart enough to figure out what a loser he was. But then, his boss didn’t want smart; he wanted easy. And the type standing in front of him would fit the bill. Sighing, Devon headed out of the mall through a doorway that wasn’t blocked off by security. He found Autumn sitting alone on a bench a few stores down and took his time in approaching her.
She put out her cigarette but remained sitting. She stared ahead, not seeming to be looking at anything in particular. He wondered what she was thinking. He was aware that they were being watched, but he’d been aware of that ever since he started his job a good seventeen years ago, though he hadn’t been a human guinea pig until seven years later.
He stopped in front of her and realized she had her eyes closed. “Autumn?”
She jerked and sat up straight.
An amused smile crossed his face. “I didn’t realize this bench was a good place to nap.”
“I’m not sleeping,” she denied, even though it was apparent she was dozing off. She gave him a good look. “What are you doing here?”
He sat next to her. He would have asked if he could, but he figured she’d say no. “I came to talk to you. How have you been doing since the explosion?”
Her eyebrows furrowed. “You have a lot of nerve, you know that? You spent all that time warning me to leave matters alone and now you’re digging them up?”
“I’m not digging anything up. I just thought I’d ask a questio
n.”
“What do you care? You set a bomb, and three people died that day.”
He shook his head. “I told them to stay away from that plant. It’s not my fault they didn’t heed my warning.”
“You’re amazing, really amazing.” She pulled out a cigarette and lighter. He noted the slight trembling of her hands. “One minute you’re telling me I better watch what I say and where I go and the next, you’re claiming to be a good Samaritan.”
“I’ve never claimed that. The goal was to scare people, not harm anyone. Sometimes unpleasant side effects are part of the job.” He mentally kicked himself. Why was he telling her this? He knew better than to reveal anything personal to anyone.
“I find it hard to believe you care about anyone but yourself,” she muttered and lit up her cigarette.
“Well, you’re wrong.” He did care, and that was a problem because it was probably a matter of time before they found out and conveniently replaced him with someone who didn’t. “I do what I have to do.”
“Oh really? And does that thing hovering around you tell you what to do?”
His head snapped in her direction. “There’s nothing hovering around me.”
She shrugged, said, “Whatever,” and took a puff of her cigarette.
The way she casually stated that gave him an uneasy feeling in his gut. “I don’t,” he insisted, unsure if he was trying to convince him or her.
“You must not see it.”
A shiver crawled up his spine. He didn’t want to ask it but felt compelled to. “See what?”
“The black shadow that lurks near you. It’s standing behind you.”
He glanced back. “I don’t see anything.”
“I know. I didn’t see it until those people vanished. Ever since then I’ve become aware of a spiritual world around us.”
“Spiritual? As in God?”
“I think so. It’s the only logical explanation for angels and demons hanging around.”
“You’re a nut.”
She glared at him. “You’re the one bombing places and I’m the nut?”
Return of the Aliens Page 9