by J. E. Taylor
“Why?”
“I got you in trouble.”
“You didn’t get me in trouble, Kat. I did that all by myself,” he answered, catching a kiss before he led her downstairs where Matthew and Linda waited.
No one spoke. Neither Matthew nor Linda knew what to say and André didn’t dare utter a word with the angry thoughts going through their heads until Matthew glanced at Katrina, silently blaming her.
“It was not her fault.” André glared at his father, unconsciously stepping in front of her in a protective reflex.
“But you...she...” He trailed off.
“Blame me, not her,” André said, a little softer. “I’m the one with the experience.”
Both Matthew and Linda stared at their son, dumbfounded by the admission.
“Yeah, I’m only seventeen, but I’ve been around the block. She hasn’t.”
“How far did you go up there?” Linda gasped.
André dropped his gaze to the floor, his cheeks flaring with heat and he stole a sideways glance at Katrina. She stared at the floor with the same guilty expression he imagined he wore. Her hands gripped his and he sighed, bringing his gaze back to Matthew’s, offering an apologetic shrug.
“Jesus Christ!”
Katrina cowered against André and tears created a glossy sheen on her eyes. “Please don’t tell my dad,” she whispered, her voice shaking.
“How did you get in?” Linda asked.
“I climbed the tree,” she admitted. “I wanted to see if he was okay.”
“And you couldn’t have done that with your clothes on?” Matthew snapped.
“I’m taking her home,” André said and started toward the door.
“The hell you are.” Matthew quickly blocked the exit path. “I called her father. He’s on his way.”
Katrina let out a muffled sob.
“Nice going, Dad.” He glared and then wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head in a gesture so sweet, it brought a fresh wave of tears from Katrina.
Matthew’s gaze bounced between André and Katrina, his thoughts racing over the brief conversation and then his eyes narrowed, locking with André’s. “How many?”
“That’s none of your business.”
Matthew took a step in his direction, reining in the need to launch at his son. His jaw tightened and he spun to the window overlooking the front yard, the fury wracking his every thought transmitting to André like a beacon in a dark storm.
André retreated, leading Katrina away from his stewing parents into the family room. He pulled her down next to him on the couch. “I think I’m grounded until I go to college,” he whispered, gleaning Matthew’s angry thoughts.
“My dad is going to kill you,” she said, wiping her face with her hands.
The doorbell rang and they traded a glance. Dread wrapped around his heart and he took her hand in his, walking toward the entry like he was navigating death row.
Commander Lawrence waited in the front hall. “Katrina Lee Lawrence,” he barked and she buried her face in André’s back, refusing to step into view of her father.
His eyes narrowed and his jaw clamped shut as he shot a deadly glare in André’s direction. “I told you once a long time ago to stay away from my daughter.”
“Sorry, sir,” André said. “I stayed away as long as I could.”
He looked at Matthew. “What happened here?”
When no one answered or met his inquisitive gaze, he knew and he turned his sights on the teenager before him, launching himself at André, his hands curled into claws, hell-bent on reaching around the boy’s throat and squeezing the life from him.
André held up his hand stopping the commander, suspending him in the leap. His bangs hung in his eyes and he stared through them, grinding his teeth against the murderous thoughts filtering through the commander’s mind. A chill skittered across his skin and memories of the hostility on his home planet raged. This man was no better than the Zyclonians who exiled him. “Tsk, tsk, you shouldn’t lose your temper like that. That’s setting a bad example,” he said, his voice toying but laced with a coldness that made everyone in the room shudder.
“André, let him go,” Matthew ordered.
André turned his hard gaze to Matthew. “Katrina and I are together. End of discussion.”
“Fucking alien,” Commander Lawrence seethed, still frozen in mid-air. “I should have locked you up the day you arrived.”
“You shouldn’t talk to your future son-in-law that way.”
“Over my dead body, you son of a bitch,” Commander Lawrence snapped back.
“Please don’t hurt my father,” Katrina said, finding her voice and breaking through the deadly layer of frustration building around André.
He softened at the shake in her voice and turned, locking his gaze with her wide eyes. Fear had exploded inside her, and he felt it. “I wouldn’t hurt him, Kat.” He lowered his hand, setting her father on his feet in the process. I didn’t mean to scare you. “Sorry,” he whispered and shrunk inside his skin. He stepped away from her, suddenly vulnerable and ashamed of his display of power.
Her father grabbed her arm and dragged her out the door without another word.
André sat down on the stairs and put his head in his hands. That last stunt of his scared her, and he wasn’t sure if he would ever see her again, never mind hold her in his arms. “You had to call her father,” he yelled from behind his hands. “You had to ruin my fucking life.” He flew up to his room.
Her scent permeated his bed sheets and he gripped his pillow in his arms, inhaling the sweet essence of her shampoo. Tears blurred his vision, brimming and cutting hot paths down his cheeks as he stared at the open window.
Linda stepped into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. Her hand ran across his back and she sighed. “What are you doing, André?”
He turned his head toward her. “I don’t know,” he answered and turned his head away again.
“Can I ask a personal question?”
He nodded without looking. “I did until tonight with Kat,” he replied before she could verbally ask.
“You didn’t use protection tonight?” she clarified her question.
“No,” he answered. “We didn’t.”
“Matt doesn’t know what to do with you right now.”
“He wants to send me away.” André turned to his adoptive mother. “I don’t want to go anywhere.” He wiped the tears off his face, smearing blood over the back of his hands.
“André, for the past year you have been a completely different person.”
“Mom, I don’t want to leave Dallas,” he replied again. “Katrina is here.”
Matthew leaned against the doorjamb. “You might not have a choice.”
“What do you mean I might not have a choice?”
“Commander Lawrence may revoke our privilege to keep you here,” he answered. “He was livid, André. Livid.” Matthew turned and walked away without voicing the other thoughts rattling through his brain, thoughts of what Commander Lawrence might do, all of which encompassed unpleasant outcomes.
“Jesus,” André whispered and closed his eyes.
“Actions have consequences, honey.”
He nodded acknowledgment.
Linda stood to leave. “Despite what you may think, both your father and I care a great deal about you, no matter how angry or disappointed we are in what you have done.” She walked out and closed his door.
André looked at the open window and thought of the options his father had entertained, all of which meant never seeing Katrina again. Sending him to a military base in another section of the country wasn’t an option. No way he’d allow anyone to study him under a microscope for the rest of his life, and the alternatives were even worse.
Closing his eyes, he sighed, falling back on the only instinct he knew.
Survival.
He opened his eyes and stared at the window, contemplating his odds.
Chapte
r 8
André went into action, packing some things in his duffel bag before he changed his mind. He clasped his watch, slid his wallet into his back pocket, and then tied his sneakers. As an afterthought, he grabbed a baseball cap and slung it into the bag before he zipped it up. He tossed the bag from his second-floor window and it hit with a solid thump. André looked back at his door with a pang of guilt and slid his legs out the window. He gripped the sill and lowered himself out, hanging his full length. Letting go, he fell the extra fifteen feet, landing solid. He grabbed his bag and hauled it over his shoulder, jogging quietly away from the house. Glancing over his shoulder, he inhaled.
“Bye,” he whispered, focusing his mind on Katrina, and headed in her direction.
André left his bag in the woods behind her house and snuck close to the foundation, unsure which room was hers.
“Katrina?” he whispered, sending the thought out to her and waited.
A light on the second floor flipped on and André moved under the window with a quick glance at the first floor sliders a few feet to the left. He hated to think what the commander would do if he caught him in his back yard. Thoughts of shotguns and blood filled his mind and he focused back on the upstairs window and Katrina’s surprised face in the glass.
She glanced over her shoulder before pushing the window open. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m not going to let them lock me in a lab for the rest of my life, but I’m not running without you.”
Katrina bit her lip and glanced behind her again, considering his implied invitation, her thoughts rolling to their earlier transgression. She sent him a sly smile and disappeared from view.
A few minutes later, an overstuffed duffel bag dropped and he caught it, smiling up at her backlit form. Another item dropped and he snagged it from the air, her pocketbook. He set it next to the duffel bag, casting a worried glance at the kitchen sliders again.
She swung her leg out the window and reached for the rose trellis on the side of the house like she had done a million times, but this time she miscalculated the distance and lost her balance.
André’s heart lurched and he stretched his arms out. “I got you,” he whispered, willing her into his arms. She landed right into his grasp with a small oomph, her eyes wide and frantic with panic pumping in her veins. He just smiled at her and set her gently on her feet.
He glanced at the doorway again and handed her the pocketbook before slinging her bag over his shoulder. Grasping her hand, he led her into the woods where he grabbed his bag as well. “Where do you want to go?”
“I want to see New York City,” she whispered.
“That’s outside the domes, Kat.”
She smiled and nodded.
“You’re out of your mind. There’s no oxygen out there.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” Katrina said. “That’s just what we’ve been told. If we go up to Chicago, we can get out of the dome through Lake Michigan.” She glanced at him as they navigated the thick woods.
“Then what?” André asked.
Katrina smiled. “Then we begin our adventure.”
André laughed. “That’s if we live long enough to see the East Coast,” he drawled. He shook his head a little. “I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this,” he said aloud and glanced sideways at her.
“It would be really cool if we could steal a hovercraft,” she said and they stepped out of the woods.
“No.” André shook his head.
“What are you, a fucking Boy Scout?”
“It’s not right,” he said, getting his bearings. He looked around and then over at her.
She pulled her hand out of his. “How do you suggest we get there?”
“Hitch.”
She gawked at him. “I’m not getting into a hovercraft with a stranger.”
“But you’d rather steal one and end up in jail?” He raised his eyebrows.
“And you’d rather be kidnapped and killed?”
André smiled. “No one’s going to harm us, Kat.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Did you not see what I did to your dad at my house?”
She went to say something and then thought better of it.
“I can stop anything,” he said.
“You can stop a laser gun?”
“I can stop anything on Earth.” He grinned and put his arm around her shoulder. “So could you, if you tried.”
“Yeah, right,” she said as they walked to the edge of the road.
He escorted her across and began walking north. André turned at the sound of a hovercraft coming in their direction. He stuck out his thumb and the craft stopped.
“Where you headed?”
“Chicago,” André answered.
The driver hesitated. “That’s a long way from here.”
“My aunt is up there and she’s sick. Andy was kind enough to agree to go with me but neither of us has a hovercraft and I’d really like to see her before she dies.” Katrina’s eyes filled with tears and she offered a sad smile.
The driver nodded. “All right.” He unlocked the doors and André dumped their bags in the hatch, sliding in front with the driver. Katrina took a seat in the back.
“I didn’t want Katy taking the trip alone,” André said and glanced back at Katrina, amazed at her acting ability.
“I’m Paul, pleasure to meet you.” His eyes drifted to the rearview mirror at Katrina in the back seat.
André smiled a little. “Don’t even think about it, dude,” he said, seeing the look on Paul’s face and hearing his feral thought process.
Paul glanced over at him, sizing him up and smiling like he didn’t just have thoughts of carnal activities with the girl in the back seat.
“Where are you headed?” Katrina asked.
“St. Louis,” Paul answered. “That’s as far as I can take you tonight.”
“That’s perfect,” Katrina said.
“So, Paul, what do you do?” André asked.
“I’m in sales,” he answered, again glancing at Katrina.
André looked out the window, his mood turning dark at the stranger’s thoughts. “What kind of sales?” he asked, his voice a little strained as the anger ebbed its way in.
“Sales.” Paul glanced over at him. “What’s it to you?” he asked as they entered the connector tunnel between the Dallas and Topeka domes. Paul hit the hyper-drive and they shot through, faster than the speed of sound, the sonic boom absorbed in the material of the shaft.
André shrugged. “Just making conversation,” he replied, putting his hands up in the air. He already knew what type of sales and it figured. Katrina was right about the dangers of hitchhiking. This man was a slime bucket who sold body parts to the highest bidder and he had plans for the two of them when they got to their destination. Killing André was first on his agenda and Katrina was another story. The things he planned on doing to her made André see red but he took a deep breath, calming the rising fury in his belly.
He looked around at the hovercraft. “Nice craft,” he observed.
Paul smiled. “Thanks. Do you two have a place to stay in St. Louis?” he asked as they entered the Topeka—St. Louis tunnel way.
André shrugged. “No. We really want to get to Chicago before morning.”
“It’s not that far from St. Louis,” Paul said over another sonic boom. “You can catch some Zs at my place if you’d like,” he offered. “That way you can have a fresh start in the morning.” He glanced back at Katrina.
“Thanks but I think we’ll pass,” André answered.
“You sure? Because your girlfriend is sacked out in the back,” he said, glancing at André.
André looked over his shoulder and back at Paul with an easy smile and shrugged. “We’ll see.” He had every intention of making Paul regret he ever picked them up and scooping up this hovercraft for the rest of their trip. He just hoped that Katrina wouldn’t wake up when he made that happen.
&n
bsp; “There is no aunt, is there, Andy?” Paul asked, glancing in his direction.
“What makes you think that?”
“I’ve seen my fair share of runaways and you two fit the bill.”
André laughed. “What kind of sales did you say you were in?”
Paul glanced in his direction, pulling out a laser gun and pointing it at André. “I didn’t say.” He smiled as the hovercraft began to slow down. “Now be a good boy. Just sit there and keep your mouth shut and you won’t get hurt.”
André morphed his expression into one of fear and his eyes flicked from the end of the barrel to Paul’s demented smile.
“Didn’t your parents ever tell you not to hitchhike?” Paul asked and pressed the tracking button on the dash, putting the hovercraft into autopilot. He turned his full attention to André, keeping the gun trained on him.
André tilted his head. “Didn’t yours ever tell you about the dangers of picking up a hitchhiker?” he countered, the fear no longer visible, replaced by a slow, evil smile of his own.
Paul leveled the gun to André’s forehead as they pulled into the stream of busy city traffic. “I’m going to have so much fun with your girlfriend.” He smiled and pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened and Paul looked at the gun, his eyes blinking rapidly. When he looked back at André, he screamed.
André felt the transition and knew from the horrified expression that his eyes had turned as red as the laser beam meant to explode through his head.
“Get out,” André ordered and the driver’s side door swung open. They were traveling at close to one hundred miles an hour and roughly thirty feet from the ground.
Paul looked out the door and then back at André. “I’ll die if I jump.”
“You’ll have more of a chance of survival jumping than if you stay here,” André said. “Now get out,” he ordered, loud enough to stir Katrina.
Paul glanced back at the drop and then at André’s red, murderous eyes. Opting for the remote chance, he jumped.
André slid over to the driver’s seat, closed the door and turned off the tracking system. He swung back toward the northern tunnel, glancing in the rearview mirror as the red hue diminished from his eyes, returning to the bright blue he was used to seeing. His gaze moved to the backseat, meeting Kat’s shocked green eyes.