by A. R. Crebs
“Research,” she mumbled and opened a page. “I’m going to go find me some mystical beast to help destroy those things out there.”
“What are you talking about?” Gavin raised an eyebrow, enjoying every minute of the woman’s uncharacteristic inebriation.
“Ives, Gavin.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “IVES!”
“No. Bad idea, Aria. Bad idea!” He sipped from his lager. “What the hell are you going to do in Ives?” The man leaned forward, listening carefully.
“I told you. Find some half-man, half-beast.”
“No such thing.”
“Yeah, well no such thing those things out there!” She pointed toward the door. “Right?”
Gavin smiled, his perfect pearly-whites glimmered in the neon lights. “Right,” he said with a low chuckle.
Aria stared, enthralled momentarily by the man’s caramel-colored eyes. Resting a chin on her hand, she leaned on the corner of one book hanging over the side of the table. The woman quickly lost her balance, the item dropping heavily onto the floor. Nearly falling off her chair, she cursed as she leaned down to pick it up.
Gavin sipped, eyeballing the room.
“Um, what was I saying?” She quickly sat up, her hair mussed over her eyes.
“Ives,” he stated with amusement.
“Oh. Well, logically, I think there may be a possibility that those things are coming from Ives.”
“Half-man, half-beast?” Gavin thought aloud.
“Maybe, I mean it’s all considered mythology, but maybe, you know. Sheesh, it’d make more sense if I were making more sense,” she fumbled with her words, feeling frustrated with herself.
“I get what you’re saying. I’ve heard of this place before, actually.”
“You have?” Aria asked. She didn’t think Gavin would know a thing about the small continent.
“Of course,” he chuckled. “My great-grandparents used to help operate one of the churches in the city. They passed down what they knew to my grandparents and then my parents and so forth. It may be the watered-down version in my head, but I kinda got the gist of the whole thing,” he explained.
“Wow, that’s pretty cool. I haven’t met too many people who know anything about the churches or…stories about Ives,” she sneered as she said ‘stories.’ “No offense, but you would have been the last person I would guess to know anything about the subject.”
“Well, I don’t know too much. Like I said, watered-down version.” He swirled his beer, pondering momentarily to himself. “You think Mr. Clarke would allow you to go there?”
Aria laughed. “I doubt it. Oh, by the way, we’re on call!” She leaned forward and slapped the table, revealing the true reasons for her drunken state. The bartender approached and slowly set an electric-blue drink next to the boisterous woman, knowing her order without her actually ordering it. Her eyes lit up like candles, and she quickly snatched it up.
“Whoa! Wait! What?!” Gavin asked, pulling the glass from her hands.
“What, what?” Aria looked up at him, her mouth open in confusion.
“On call? We’re on call? You know this, and you’re trashed right now?”
“Well, I’d rather be trashed than sober going out there to die.”
“Out there? You mean he may send us back out to that base from yesterday? Does Troy know?” Gavin sighed loudly. Aria shook her head, the sudden barrage of questions were a few too many for her to take in all at once.
“No, haven’t been able to reach him. He’s been on training grounds all day.”
“Damn….” Gavin ran a hand through his long dark strands. It reminded Aria of the man she saw in the elevator earlier that day. She thought about asking the pilot if he knew who the stranger was but then passed on the subject.
“Well, let’s go find him!” Aria beamed. “I’ll drive!” She began to stand but was abruptly tugged back down.
“How’d you get here?” he asked her, his tone slightly more severe.
“Hm….” The black-haired woman thought long and hard and then scoffed to herself. “Shit, hell if I know. Aliens!” She shrugged.
“Aliens…oh! Aliens! Tell me about last night!” Gavin laughed.
“Oh! You heard about that?!” she hooted loudly.
“Yeah, heard he thought the gal in his bed was one of those aliens!”
“Yup! He started screaming and shouting! ARIA! I was so scared! And I came running out into the hall in my underwear!” She slapped her forehead.
“Your underwear?!” Gavin looked her up and down. “Damn, Troy’s a lucky bastard.”
“Damn right he is!” she giggled quietly.
Gavin stared at the woman. He was dumbfounded. Aria’s personality had pulled a one-eighty. She was like an entirely different person. Too bad it was because she was drunk. His smile faltered, but he quickly shook the thought from his head. He didn’t want Aria to know that he sometimes felt sorry for her. It wasn’t a terrible thing; he just felt sad for such a beautiful woman to have gone through so much pain. So much that the only time she smiled was when she wasn’t actually herself. And Aria rarely drank this much, which meant something bad must’ve happened, and he could only assume that it had to do with being on call.
“So I go in there and he’s out in his boxers with his gun, ready to shoot!” Aria rambled on about the story, leaving out no details. “But anyway, I just had a great idea!”
Gavin gave a curious look as the woman leaned forward and spat out a few words to him, and it all made perfect sense.
“You, my dear, are a genius!” Gavin finished off his beer and jumped up, grabbing his brown, leather jacket. With a couple clicks on his wrist, he had their tab paid and was rounding the table.
“Oh!” Aria snickered to herself as she was tugged by her arm out of her chair. “Wa-w-wait!” She fumbled for her drink. “I’m taking this!” she shouted, but Gavin took it from her hands.
“You can’t take it,” he laughed at her.
“But–” She watched as he pressed a finger against his lips and secretly opened up a flask from his jacket pocket. He took a big drink to empty the bottle and dumped the contents of Aria’s glass into it. Sure, it was irresponsible of him, but how could he resist a smile from Aria? Besides that, he didn’t want to feel the repercussion if he didn’t let the woman finish off her favorite drink.
“That burned.” He gasped for air, feeling the heat from the whiskey. “There. Hold onto that for me.” He handed the flask to the woman. She gave him a childlike grin, and together the two darted out the door.
Troy walked with heavy footsteps across the outdoor training grounds. Underneath a navy-blue sky, cicadas and crickets chirped loudly, making his headache all the more painful.
“What a shitty day,” he sourly grumbled to himself.
Training had been a complete nightmare. First of all, Troy was late for class again. The crew wouldn’t listen to him all morning, and some newbie had shot himself in the foot within the first twenty minutes. The rest of the day was rocky at best, but at least no one died. Troy so desperately wanted to call-in and make Aria handle the recruits, but after last night, he figured she’d kill him. However, because of the little stunt she pulled earlier with his sandwich, he decided the next time he was assigned training duty he was playing hooky and she was getting called in. The thought made him smile. Aria, pissed off, would be yelling at frightened recruits all day long.
A small chime interrupted his thoughts. Troy looked down at his wrist and saw in his optic hologram that Aria had been trying to call him all day, and then he noticed a new message from her.
‘Damn.’ He pushed the inner monologue button behind his ear. Whatever the news was, it must have been important, but why didn’t she come look for him? His demeanor quickly changed as Aria’s voice broke out through his consciousness.
“Troy?! Troy! Help! Oh, God! You have to help me!” The militant stopped dead in his tracks. Static faded in and out, distorting the woman’s vo
ice. There was a small growl, one that sounded animal. Aria’s voice was scratchy, cracking as she spoke. “Ah! Troy! They got me, Troy! Those…those aliens!” A high-pitch sound had interfered with the message before everything went silent.
“A…Aria,” Troy whispered to himself, frozen and unsure of what to do. Then, his body moved on its own accord. “Shit!” He sped off, running toward the military complex as fast as he possibly could. He dropped his bags, not caring about the items anymore as he voice-dialed her number, hoping she would pick up. There was no ring; the phone went straight to voicemail. “SHIT!”
A wild, gusting wind swirled around him. He slowed his steps, coming to a halt, listening to the quiet hum that emitted from the sky. Lifting his worried gaze upward, he saw nothing but a black void from a starless night. Small noises surrounded the area, clicks and hums followed by a terrible screeching and then a low growl, the same growl from Aria’s message.
‘Shit, aliens. I was right, aliens.’ The man lifted his weapon defensively, spinning slowly in a circle. A horrifying shriek sounded from above along with mechanical chatter. Troy raised his head again just as a spotlight popped on overhead, blinding him. Fear paralyzed him as something soft and warm wrapped around his torso and tightened. Roughly, the rifle jerked from his hands as he began to fly skyward. And then he screamed.
“Ah, shit! AHH!” Chattering noises clicked in his ears as one of the things latched onto him. He felt the alien’s hot breath on his neck and then its tongue lick from his collarbone up to his ear. Troy fought with it, but its grip only tightened, and before he knew it, he was tugged inside the ship into darkness and dropped heavily onto the cold metal floor. There was a clamor of noise from above, and before Troy could move, lights flashed on inside the ship.
Laughing. He could hear laughing. His eyes quickly adjusted to the brightness. Lifting his confused gaze, he found standing above him a hysterical Aria. She was cackling like he’d never seen before. Her hands tugged on a rope clipped to her belt. As the wheels slowly turned in his feeble mind, Troy finally grasped that Aria had fast-roped from the Hawk 90 and snatched him right off the ground. Still, the terrible alien noises were ranting in the background.
“Oh, man! That was great!” Gavin’s voice intruded, joining in Aria’s laughing fit. The pilot came to the back and pulled a switch from the intercom system; the alien chatter shut off.
“WHAT THE HELL?!” Troy more than shouted. “You bastards!” He sat upright, making a pained expression.
“Oh my God! You should have heard yourself!” Aria slapped her legs as she stumbled.
“You…you’re wasted.” Troy watched the woman in wonder, his anger temporarily fazed.
Gavin laughed as he responded to Aria, “Oh, he will. I filmed it all!” He held up a small recording device.
“Give it to me!” Troy reached toward the camera, but Gavin pulled away. The two men had a quick tussle before Gavin roughly shoved Troy away, laughing cruelly.
“That’s not all…we have different angles! Gavin was filming up front. We have a camera on the side of the Hawk, and I,” Aria held up her hand to show a small camera was attached to her palm, “got a close and personal view.”
“Why?” Troy whimpered, watching Aria as she smiled wickedly. “What did I ever do to you? And you stole my sandwich, too. You are just a bully.”
Aria dismissively waved a hand at him as she sat down in a chair.
“Her idea, Troy. All her idea.” Gavin smirked. “We have got to get her trashed more often.”
“I would if I could,” Troy grumbled as he quickly wiped the side of his neck. His eyes widened as he realized that Aria must’ve licked him on their way back up to the aircraft. He gave her a look, his pupils flickering with curiosity. “But she won’t ever drink that much. How’d you do it?” He looked back up at Gavin. The other man shrugged.
“She did it all herself.” The pilot glanced at Aria, who now held a rather sleepy expression on her face.
“Uh, oh.” Troy stood up, stretching his back. Something had gone out of place after being dropped mercilessly onto the floor. “That means something bad must’ve happened.”
“We’re on call,” Gavin announced.
Troy twisted his head to meet his friend’s stare. “What do you mean on call? We? All three of us and you two have been drinking?” Troy gave him an incredulous look.
“Don’t blame me! She didn’t tell me till later!”
“Aria!” Stomping a foot, Troy shouted loudly. The woman jumped in her chair, a little more alert. “We’re on call?”
“Desert,” she sputtered. “The President said he’ll ship us out whenever he needs us.” Her words sounded rather bitter, but now it all made sense. Aria was mad at the President. She never called him by his title but by his first name only. Something must’ve set her off badly. “Born a soldier, die a soldier,” she muttered to herself, her hand swaying back and forth as she spoke.
“Damn it…how can you be the most irresponsible, responsible person I know?” Troy asked, running his hands over his face. Really, it had been the first time she had ever done anything like this. He blamed stress. Didn’t that do weird things to a woman’s head if she had too much of it?
Three alarms abruptly went off. Aria, Troy, and Gavin all looked down at their wrists. They all three had messages to meet with the President ASAP.
“Shit,” Aria grumbled, sounding a bit more sober.
“Come on; let’s get our trusty leader some hydrate or something,” Gavin suggested.
Aria moaned, wishing she had fallen back to sleep when she had first awoken that morning.
"Aria’s Just A Bully"
Chapter 5
The elevator ride to the President’s office was more than excruciating. Everything seemed to move in slow-motion as Aria swayed between the two men, each one feeding her a hydrate pill and a bottle of water. Her glazed eyes struggled to focus on the colorful lights from the streets below. Streaming vehicles played a light show between dark masses of skyscrapers and the tiny, blinking traffic signals. A blur of digital advertisements lit up the building next to the corporations. One was about shampoo, the kind that smelled like flowers and candy all wrapped into one–a fragrance that could only be imagined since something like an orchid no longer grew in the wild. The ad flickered brightly into a series of fast-paced cars racing down an urban highway, streaks of light spilling from the tires. The city was a rave party at night. Traffic illumination and commercial billboards bled into a series of seizure-inducing dances, reflecting on the glass of the elevator. Aria closed her eyes; luckily she didn’t feel too badly, just full to the brim with liquid. She moaned as Gavin forced another bottle in her hand.
“You guys are treating me like I’m a child,” she growled.
“Grumpy, that’s a good sign!” Troy gave a thumbs-up to Gavin.
“I’m going to show you grumpy when I shove your ass through the elevator window!” Aria smacked the man’s gesturing hand out of her face.
“You do not want to be drunk when you are in front of the President. I am just trying to save your ass, Aria,” he lectured her.
“I’m sorry, Troy; I should have made her behave herself.” Gavin looked down at the woman, feeling a tidbit guilty for her drunken spell.
“I’m fine! I’ve been worse off before!” The woman finished off the bottle of water and threw the container in aggravation at the pilot. “The one time I let loose and I actually get called into work! All because of stupid aliens!”
Gavin and Troy pointed at one another. “Aliens!”
“Shut up!” the woman roared.
The elevator chimed happily as the doors slid open. Aria moaned; she just wanted to go to bed already. The hallway leading to the President’s office seemed never-ending. Gavin and Troy briskly took the lead. Aria didn’t mind. Right now, the last thing she wanted was to be in the lead. She strolled slowly, depressing thoughts of her earlier discussion with the President plaguing her mind. She was e
xpendable. Her life wasn’t any more valuable than the clones from Camery’s lab; she knew that. Troy knew that. Then why was she so miserable?
Looking over his shoulder, Gavin took notice of the woman’s sad expression. Aria eyeballed him. He winked at her and gave her his boyish, cock-eyed smile. Tiny butterflies fluttered in her stomach. Aria sighed to herself. Now was not the time to be blushing at boys. She could deal with her self-pity and lack of a love life once she was done reporting in with the commander-in-chief.
“Grayson!” Gavin cheered, holding up a hand to the rigid personal bodyguard for Mr. Clarke. The suited man, lacking enthusiasm, returned the gesture, allowing Gavin’s hand to collide with his own. Gavin gave a laugh, whereas Grayson remained stoic and expressionless, staring straight ahead through dark lenses.
Troy stood a moment at the door to President Clarke’s office. Aria probed him with an ugly glare. He ignored the stare and took a slow breath before turning the knob, opening the heavy wooden door to the man’s office. A cloud of smoke fogged the middle layer of the room. Aria was momentarily on alert for the cause, but Troy and Gavin remained unfazed; they recognized the familiar smell of cigar. Aria narrowed her gaze. James Clarke rarely smoked, which meant that he had nothing but bad news for her team.
“Please, have a seat,” Clarke welcomed the three, quickly smothering the traditional stogie in its tray.
Aria gratefully took a seat next to the window furthest from the President. He watched her cautiously as the two men took their places before his desk. Grayson silently closed the door, remaining outside to stand guard.
“Sorry to bring you in at this late hour, but I have dire news about Dr. Camery and his team.” The President cleared his throat, trying his best to ignore the green-eyed glare Aria was feeding him.
“Dr. Camery?” Troy asked.
“Were you not informed?” Mr. Clarke asked with interest. “I figured the news would have been relayed to you by now.” His dark eyes shifted to Aria, who was looking out the window in disinterest, watching the bright advertisements across the street—Bio-Tech, a household name, selling household products and assault rifles.