by Kelly Goode
The only reliable data he possessed was witnessed first-hand. Carson was brave and strong, but equally impulsive and illogical. She’d been killing aliens for years and it showed. Her unique skills propelled her to a high standing within the organisation and even with her unorthodox tactics, she maintained an exceptional kill ratio that no other agent could compete with or dared to.
On a personal level, he knew she liked spicy food and drank brandy neat. Not much really for a partnership that spanned almost a year. It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried to get to know her better, to question her about her past, but whenever he thought their relationship was moving forward, she would pull back.
Blake was too old and too jaded for her, but that didn’t stop him from wondering what they would be like together. It was only natural when a man and woman worked so closely together, especially when that woman was as intriguing as Carson was, but Blake was not the kind of man she would ever accept.
Not that she tried to be anything other than one of the boys. Blake surmised she dressed deliberately modest so as not to draw attention to her femininity, although you’d have to be blind not to notice her. With her dark hair cut short to her face, high cheekbones and large, startling blue eyes, she almost looked doll-like. That was until you looked closely and realised that her face, arms, legs, shoulders and neck were covered in jagged white lines, or as she called them “battle scars”.
Carson oozed strength and power, leaving most men she came into contact with drooling like fools. Blake was not like most men, but he was a man nether-the-less and she affected him in ways that were primal and dangerous. He pushed his hands through his too-long hair, fighting the overwhelming sense of frustration and anger that came whenever she played the vigilante. He’d nearly lost her tonight. Whether she realised just how close she’d came to dying was another matter.
Thankfully, he’d seen her post-it note shortly after she’d left on her renegade capture-or-kill mission. Bursting into the warehouse to find her cornered by a desquamater almost caused him to lose control. Blake had felt his heartbeat accelerate and his skin itch as it stretched across his taut muscles. His own inner-demon stirred and it was hard to hold the beast back. He couldn’t afford to let loose around Carson. She didn’t know the threat that lurked inside him; what his true nature was. No one in the ISCU knew, nor could they ever discover his secret. It would be dangerous for him, and even more so for them.
5
‘Find anything?’ Carson called out to Blake, and he flinched. From the look on his face, it seemed she’d interrupted some dark thoughts and she hoped not all of them involved her.
‘No, there’s nothing here that will identify the second man you captured. I thought desquamaters worked alone. It’s the scouters you normally find in pairs.’
‘Usually I’d agree, but I went with my gut this time. That thing that lived within Malcolm had a fondness for stealing little girls from their beds. The current count in this area is four. I didn’t want to give him the chance to strike again. I couldn’t find you, and I couldn’t wait for back-up.’
Carson’s voice wavered and she bit her lip in an attempt to conceal how personally she took these cases, but each death felt like a bullet to her heart. She swallowed deeply before continuing her recount.
‘When I arrived, two men in a car were watching a bedroom window. One of them fitted the description of Malcolm Plummer, a suspected desquamater victim. I didn’t have time to think it through, so I tranquilised both of them and brought them to the warehouse.’
‘Was this second man an alien?’
‘Not one I’ve encountered before. He shifted into an animal without shedding any skin.’
Blake’s green eyes narrowed as his brow furrowed.
‘What kind of animal?’ he asked.
‘A wolf,’ she replied.
‘What like a werewolf?’
Carson shook her head. ‘I believe in werewolves about as much as I believe in the tooth fairy.’
‘I doubt you’d believe in aliens if you hadn’t seen one with your own eyes.’
‘Desquamaters aren’t the first invasive species to attempt to colonise Earth, Blake. There are confidential reports detailing other aliens that can transform into animals that date back to the turn of the century.’
Blake’s hands curled into fists by his sides, as if the subject was adding to his anger for some reason.
‘Those reports are above your clearance level,’ he said curtly. ‘How in the hell do you know about them?’
‘It’s not what you know, but who you know. Werewolves are folk-law. The second man was an alien - species unknown - but with animalistic resemblances.’
‘What did he say to you?’ Blake asked. ‘Did he know who you worked for? Did he understand why he’d been detained?’
His questions came thick and fast, and Carson deliberately avoided his eye contact by pretending to study her dirty fingernails.
‘You did question him before you neutralised him, didn’t you?’
Blake’s voice was short and sharp.
‘Well, see, that’s the other thing I meant to tell you. I didn’t get a chance to neutralise him.’
‘Why not?’
‘He escaped?’
Carson lifted her gaze in time to see Blake’s eyes widen in surprise, not an emotion she witnessed from him very often.
‘He escaped? How could he escape? Nothing fucking escapes from you.’
‘I know, I know, but I was so focused on Malcolm that I didn’t see the guy break free from his bonds until it was too late. He shifted into a big, black wolf and jumped out of the window. I managed to get a clean shot off, but it didn’t stop him. I decided not to pursue, as I deemed dealing with the desquamater more important.’
Blake cursed as he kicked out at one of the crates lining the wall. The power he put behind it sent it cannoning towards the other side of the warehouse and it hit with a clunk. Carson flinched. Her partner usually kept a tight rein over his emotions so it was always a shock whenever he let loose. She sometimes forgot how strong he actually was – like superhuman strong. That crate had to weigh a tonne and he’d moved it as if it had been made of paper.
‘I’m sorry.’
Blake ignored her apology, as he lifted his wrist and connected once again with HQ. He gave an update on the situation and Carson recognised the exact moment when communications were taken over by their boss, because Blake held his wrist further away from his ear. Carson heard the shrill tirade coming from the small speaker, but Blake took the reprimand on the chin like the perfect soldier, never once arguing, merely answering with a “yes, sir” or “no, sir” before disconnecting.
‘I’m sorry,’ she repeated.
‘Fuck being sorry, Carson. You should have told me about this earlier.’
Blake checked all the guns in his holster to ensure they were loaded.
‘I know, but my head was all fuzzy-like from the grenades.’
‘If I’d known from the start, I could’ve tracked the alien straight away, instead of wasting time here.’
‘I wasn’t thinking straight. I really am sorry. I should’ve known I wasn’t the priority.’
Blake didn’t reply. He pulled a band out of his pocket and secured his long hair at the nape of his neck. He had that cool, detached look in his green eyes now, like he was running a strategy through in his mind.
‘What’s the plan?’ Carson asked.
‘I’m going to find him.’
‘It won’t be easy. He wasn’t a crazed alien like we’ve dealt with before. He was quick and intelligent.’
Blake eyes were like hard chips of green glass as they met hers.
‘I know what I’m tracking,’ he said. ‘He’s a jaktten.’
6
Carson’s eyebrows came together and the scorched skin on her face cracked as she stared up at Blake.
‘What’s a jaktten?’ she asked, and he felt the muscles in his arms tighten as he tried not to react to
o strongly to that question.
‘Humans haven’t always been the predominant life forms on Earth,’ Blake said. ‘Some argue mankind is just another evasive species that deserves to be eradicated for the destruction they’ve brought to this planet. Those confidential reports you mentioned earlier would’ve told you all about the jakttens, if you’d really read them.’
‘I didn’t say I’d read the reports. Just that I know they exist.’
Blake had been trying to gain access to those reports ever since he’d joined the unit, and she’d played him, leading him to believe she knew about the other aliens co-existing on Earth when she was as clueless as the rest of the planet.
‘Jaktten are a species of alien shape-shifters, but they’ve lived peacefully and undetected on this planet for years. They arrived before the desquamater invasion and closely resemble wolves.’
‘Are they dangerous?’
‘Jakttens don’t attack unless provoked, but their bite is deadly. It contains an infection that changes a human’s molecular structure. A bitten human doesn’t die straight away. They might even attempt to fight the virus and interact with society for a few months, but they’d never survive the first transformation. They would be prone to lunacy, unable to control their blood lust around healthy humans. That’s probably where the werewolf myth first came from.’
‘And these jaktten can control themselves?’
Blake was disappointed, but not surprised, to hear sarcasm in her voice.
‘Of course they can. Jaktten loosely translates to Hunter. They hunt animals, not people. It’s been said that some choose to live in towns - marry, mate, even have kids. They don’t hurt humans. Never have and never will.’
Carson looked thoughtful. ‘So I could be standing right next to one of these creatures and not even know it.’
‘Yes.’
Blake thought it was a testament to how disciplined the species was that tonight was the first time one had revealed itself to someone like Carson.
‘So what would a jaktten be doing with a desquamater?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘He must’ve sensed there was a monster inside Malcolm Plummer that liked to kill and eat children. That doesn’t sound much like a species I want to share the planet with.’
Blake didn’t have anything to add, so remained silent.
‘I really should’ve questioned him,’ she continued, as if compelled to fill the void, ‘but I was so focused on Malcolm, I didn’t think he posed a threat until it was too late. I really fucked up.’
Seeing Carson sitting there on the floor, looking up at him with her blackened face and sad expression, he had the urge to scoop her up in his arms and tell her everything was going to be alright, but he couldn’t. Things never turned out alright for people like them.
‘What happens now?’ she asked and Blake sighed, knowing she wasn’t going to like his answer but he desperately needed to put some distance between him and his partner. He needed to clear all thoughts of her out of his head. Otherwise, he lost objectivity. Carson had made a huge mistake, probably her gravest, but his anger was gradually fading, as it always did. He needed to hold onto his temper and use it as a barrier between them.
‘I need to go,’ he said quietly and she nodded resolutely.
‘I know.’
‘I have to find the injured jaktten before he gets near a densely populated area.’
‘But you said his kind didn’t hurt humans.’
‘That’s true, but you shot him so he’s still dangerous. The beast inside always takes over in a survival situation.’
Blake was just about to turn and leave, when he heard Carson struggle to her feet. She clung desperately to the wall, and grimaced when several blisters on her arms popped.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’ he asked.
‘With you.’
‘Like hell you are. Sit back down and wait for the cleaners to arrive. They need your statement before they process the scene. The doctor is on his way too.’
‘But-’
‘Don’t question me,’ he cut in. ‘I said stay here. That’s an order.’
Carson stared at him and her defiance showed all too clearly in her blue eyes, but Blake wouldn’t relent this time. He met her stare uncompromisingly, as if daring her to disobey him. They stood in limbo for a few seconds, as it was clear that neither wanted to back down. Finally, the pain proved too much for Carson, as she relinquished the battle and slumped once more to the floor.
‘Fine, just be careful,’ she muttered, and the concern in her voice was enough to destroy the flimsy barricade he’d tried to erect around his heart. He bent down and kissed the top of her head.
‘I’m always careful. Stay out of trouble and wait to be processed.’
Blake stood up and jogged towards the emergency exit. He was eager to track the mysterious jaktten, as he had questions of his own to ask the escapee, starting with why he’d allowed himself to be captured and whether he knew in doing so, he might have jeopardised Blake’s already risky position inside the ISCU.
7
Carson stood back and let the cleaners do their thing. The name itself could be viewed as derogatory but it was used affectionately within the organisation. The cleaners started where she left off; processing any part of the alien left behind after elimination. As individuals, they were the best in their selected fields. Most of them had been poached from the police force or leading laboratories. They processed prints, DNA, fluids, and trace evidence against a centralised database in an attempt to build a profile for the alien invaders.
It was a painfully slow task, one that Carson could never do in a million years. She craved the thrill of the chase and the rush of the kill, which added weight to the fact she was pretty fucked-up in the head. Her latest psychology evaluation had confirmed that sentiment but in far more technical terms.
Carson rolled her head to the right then back to the left, trying to ease the tightness in her neck. Two hours had elapsed since she’d killed the desquamater and the warehouse was alive with activity. Chemicals permeated the smoke laden air and irritated her nose and throat. She rubbed her gritty eyes as her attention wandered towards the far end of the warehouse where Malcolm had died.
Carson recalled the way the bullet had pierced his skull, the way his body had crumpled, and the look of surprise on his pasty face. She didn’t feel guilty that she’d ended his sorry existence, but deep down she knew that Malcolm was just as much a victim as those little girls.
‘Hey, are you ok?’ Blake asked, as he came to stand beside her. His masculine scent trumped the ash-laden air and Carson inhaled deeply. He always smelled clean and woodsy, as if he’d been running through a forest or chopping down trees. It was a unique smell that she associated with him and secretly wished she could bottle.
‘I guess so. I was just thinking.’
‘Bet that hurt,’ he replied with a grin, which earned him a scathing look. ‘Ok, sorry, what were you thinking about?’
‘How hindsight is a bitch. I wish I hadn’t let that alien get to me. He was only bragging about killing little Liv to upset me, and that made it all too easy to shoot him. I should’ve restrained myself, found out where he was from and what his plans were. I should’ve made him suffer.’
‘What’s done is done,’ Blake said, lightly rubbing Carson’s arm. ‘You can’t change what happened, so don’t waste time dwelling on it.’
She looked across the sea of white suits as the cleaners collected what remained of the exterminated desquamater. They meticulously put the chunks of flesh into plastic bags and any gloop into test tubes.
‘I know that, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. I had the opportunity to do some real investigative work and I blew it. Guess the psychiatrist was right; I really am just a merciless assassin at heart.’
Carson didn’t hear Blake’s reply as a loud exchange erupted between two of the cleaners. They’d been processing the scene where the grenades ha
d detonated and seemed to be having a heated debate about something. It was hard to tell exactly what they looked like due to their white all-in-one suits but from their sizes, she guessed one was male and one was female.
As if sensing Carson’s stare, the guy looked right at her. He was light-skinned and cleanly shaven. He looked too fresh to be a veteran, and she wondered what his speciality was. He seemed to have the right build for a field agent, yet he was on collection and detection duty. He didn’t look the type that would be satisfied processing hair samples or DNA results all day, which was a shame really as under those plastic whites she could see a toned, taut arse…
‘Carson?’
Her head snapped back to Blake as if it was on a piece of elastic.
‘Are you even listening to me?’ he asked, folding his arms across his wide chest. His green eyes drilled into her and she had to look away as a blush crept onto her cheeks.
‘Sure, yeah, of course I was.’
Blake raised an eyebrow. ‘Liar.’
‘Ok, so I wasn’t listening, sue me. I’m a little preoccupied by all the blood and guts on me.’
‘And not with the new hotshot?’
‘No.’
‘So why is he checking you out then?’
Carson’s heart jumped and she chanced another look at the cleaners. Only this time it was the woman’s eyes that held her stare, which in itself said something of her character as most people avoided Carson’s eye contact. The woman was pale with a thin face, but her dark eyes were challenging and Carson had no choice but to win the face-off, after all she had a reputation to uphold. The woman finally conceded and went back to collecting her samples and Carson turned back to Blake.
‘Fooled you,’ he said, and his devilish dimples appeared when he smiled smugly. Carson was glad that their earlier tensions had evaporated and that he wasn’t cross with her anymore. She punched him playfully on the arm by way of reply, but pain exploded across her shoulders and white light filled her eyes.