Alphas in the Wild

by Ann Gimpel

  “Don’t these things have radar in them?” He glanced at the instrument cluster. “Guess not.” He answered his own question.

  “The newer, fancier ones do, but not these models,” she replied and set them up to land at LeConte. Her breath came fast, and she felt like she wanted to puke. They’d had way too close a call for her taste. How many Lonnies and Stuarts were cruising around in Park Service property, pretending to still be human?

  “I need to know what’s going on,” he said as she hovered right before setting them down.

  “Yeah, I know you do. We need to get the bird unloaded, and then we have an unpleasant task. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to help with it.”

  He followed her and Jake out of the chopper. “What kind of unpleasant task.”

  “Butchering aliens.” Before he could ask her anything, she added, “We need meat, and I figure they’re as good as anything else.” It was a good lead in, so she started at the beginning and told him everything she knew as they unloaded the chopper.

  Chapter Five

  Jared didn’t say much. He’d asked a question or two for clarification, but he mostly listened as Sara’s story spilled out of her. Any tendency to not believe her vanished in the face of the aliens’ bodies.

  He’d kept a stoic front, a skill honed through his years as a doctor, until she led him to where she’d stashed the two bodies. Jake beat them there and he’d made a significant incursion into one of the corpses.

  “Humph. Guess it’s better than kibbles.” Jared tried to make a joke to lighten the grisly aspect of the dog feeding on the bodies. It wasn’t that dead things bothered him. He’d earned a living examining tissues and organs, but that was in a controlled environment. The hybrid aliens laying in the dirt took it to a whole other level.

  “Shoo!” Sara batted her hands at the dog. For the barest moment, it looked as if he might disobey, but the moment passed, and he hopped out of the way, sprinting back through the forest.

  Jared hunkered next to the nearest body and ran his fingertips over its scales. “What I wouldn’t give to have my microscopes and lab equipment.”

  “What do you do? Or what did you do?” Sara stood behind him, arms crossed over her chest.

  “I’m a doctor, but I don’t see patients. Not live ones, anyway. I run a biomedical research firm. I’d love to study the DNA that made these.”

  “I don’t have your background, but I’ll bet the science behind this transformation doesn’t work like anything you’ve ever seen before. These men were my friends.” Her voice ran down and she started over. “In a matter of a couple weeks they turned from human to that.” Sara extended a hand, pointing at the corpses.

  He considered it. Recombinant DNA could work fast, but to blend humans into a whole other form in mere days defied credibility. Jared pushed to his feet. “Are they how the chopper got here?”

  Sara nodded. “I hadn’t gotten around to telling you that part, except you knew I arrived on foot, so I guess you put two and two together.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Yeah. It’s part of what made me a decent researcher. Do you think someone will come looking for these guys?”

  “I have no idea.” She shrugged. “The little bit I saw of Lonnie and Stuart before I—” she faltered before going on “—killed them, they seemed to still think like humans.”

  Jared eyed her. “You okay?”

  “Truth?”

  He wanted to hold out his arms and cradle her against him, but knew at an instinctual level it would be a mistake. “Of course, truth.” He infused as much compassion as he could into his words, in lieu of the hug he wanted to give her.

  Her expression altered, became less guarded. “I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again, but that doesn’t excuse me from doing the best I can to stay alive.”

  The words, resolute, determined, jarred him. He swept his earlier decision to keep his distance aside and opened his arms. “That’s one of the bravest speeches I’ve ever heard. Now come here, just for a minute. It doesn’t mean you’re weak. We all need someone.” Jared hesitated. “It’s been one of my problems. An uber-independent streak that chases support right out the window.”

  “Takes one to know one.” She fastened her amazing eyes on him, but didn’t come any closer.

  “It does, doesn’t it? If a hug feels too risky, how about this?” He moved to her side and draped an arm around her shoulder, squeezing lightly.

  She leaned into him for all of five seconds before disentangling his arm. “We have work to do.” Her tone shifted back to brusque. “Stuart kept a smokehouse down by the river. Guess I figured we’d preserve the meat that way.”

  Sara’s voice held a broken note, as if she’d rather face a firing squad than deal with the bodies.

  “Look.” He exhaled softly. “We brought back a lot of food from McClure, and boxes of ammunition. Another gun too, beyond the one in that belt holster around your waist. Surely we can hunt. Even if we went to all the trouble to butcher these bodies, could you bear to eat the result?”

  She favored him with a wry smile. “I worried how I’d manage. Guess I figured worst case scenario, they’d feed Jake.”

  “He seems pretty handy hunting up his own game.” Jared spread his hands in front of him. “If you think I’m being pushy or overbearing, say something, but I’m good with burning these two. We could douse them with a splash of fuel, so it would be over faster.”

  She folded her arms beneath her breasts and was quiet so long, he worried he’d offended her. This was her turf. He was the guest, the interloper.

  “Yeah,” she finally muttered. “Let’s do it. Probably should drag them closer to the river first. So we don’t set the forest on fire.”

  “I’ll take care of that part. How about if you scare up some gasoline?”

  She turned and sprinted back toward the cabin.

  Jared slung one of the bodies over his shoulders, staggering under its weight as he made his way downhill to where he heard running water. Once there, he moved another hundred feet downstream to a flat, sandy area.

  Sara trotted up carting a red fuel can. “I’ll sit with him,” she said. “Or I can go get the other one.”

  “How about if you finish putting things away.” He kept his voice gentle. “I can take care of this.”

  “You don’t have to do that. I can fight my own—”

  He pried the gas can out of her hands and set it down, then he faced her squarely. “I know you’re strong. Tough as nails, as dried shoe leather, but you have help now. Their bodies may not be human anymore, but do you really want to watch their faces burn? Can you separate who they used to be from what they turned into?”

  “Not entirely.” She swallowed visibly.

  If he knew women, she was doing her level best not to cry.

  “How about this?” A tear spilled down one cheek, but she ignored it. “I’ll go get Stuart, er, the other body. You can get a pyre together while I’m gone...”

  “Sure, Sara. That’s fine, but once Stuart is here, you can leave. I’ll find you once it’s over.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “I know that. We partners. Even though we didn’t say it in so many words, we made that decision back at McClure. It means we help one another. This is one small way I can help you.”

  Sara didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. He recognized relief in the set of her shoulders and the softening of her expression before she turned away from him. He watched her move up the sand bar until she disappeared into the trees. Her arms and legs swung with an easy grace. She was probably a lot like him. More at home here in the wilds than anywhere else. Why else would she be a backcountry ranger. She’d told him about her twenty years with the Park Service. Surely after all that time, she could’ve snapped up a desk job—if she wanted one.

  * * * *

  It was well past dark by the time Jared made his way back to the cabin, working by feel since he hadn’t thought to bring his
headlamp. The light from the pyres masked just how dark it had grown, but the deed was done. Unlike human remains, something in the scaled skin made the bodies burn quickly. He’d wanted to do a cursory autopsy to determine just how much of the parts beneath the scales weren’t human anymore, but he hadn’t.

  For one thing, all he had was a pocket knife. For another, it felt disrespectful to chop into men who’d been Sara’s friends. One had manned LeConte. The other had been her boss. Surely the loss added to her grief and horror about aliens commandeering Earth. She’d mentioned humans reneging on some kind of intergalactic trade agreement, and he was looking forward to hearing whatever she had by way of information to shed light on the incidents that had blown into full-fledged war.

  He saw LeConte’s lights long before he came to the cabin, and the sight warmed him. In a very real way, it felt like coming home. Not home to his old life, but home to a new one. One he was just beginning to explore. Sara was someone he wanted to get to know better. Not because she was tall and striking, but because she was bright and resourceful and loved the backcountry.

  He’d had his share of women, but a few nights in a tent sent them running for the hills. None of them could tolerate leaving civilization behind for very long. Even the ones who’d enjoyed his body and his mind drew the line at multiple days in the same clothes with only cold creek water to wash in. Balanced against no Internet, no one appreciated the wonder and the glory of sun-dappled meadows and alpenglow that lasted for hours, turning the world a stunning golden pink.

  He had a feeling Sara nurtured a self-sufficiency to rival his own, and the thought excited him. He wanted to get to know her a whole lot better. To see those wonderful eyes warm when she looked his way. He snorted laughter. Nothing like getting a wee bit ahead of himself. He’d just met her. For all he knew, she had a husband somewhere, or a partner. Maybe that added to the sadness mirrored in her eyes.

  A shadow detached itself from the darker places and ran to his side whuffing softly.

  Jake.

  “Hey, boy.”

  The dog, apparently past his earlier ambivalence, nuzzled Jared’s hand and together they covered the final distance to the cabin.

  * * * *

  Sara stood over the woodstove mixing ingredients into a pot. Since she had time, she opted for rice and beans over freeze dried food. It had been exceptionally kind of Jared to offer to do her job for her. Something he’d said stuck in her mind. They were partners, which meant she didn’t have to do everything. Just because she didn’t have to, though, didn’t mean she wouldn’t try. Old habits truly died hard.

  With it all, the simple fact of not being alone anymore soothed her, which was odd since she’d never minded her isolation in the backcountry. Not having any front country left altered that. No Park Headquarters. No Lonnie.

  Sadness welled. He’d been the one who’d hired her, and he’d been like a father all the years she’d worked for him. She’d never had another boss, and she’d miss him terribly. Knowing he was as close as her radio had bailed her out of many a situation. Not that she’d called—at least not often—but knowing she could made a lot of difference.

  “Maybe I’m not as independent as I figured,” she muttered and stirred salt into her stew.

  Her thoughts shifted to Jared. What had he left behind? He’d mostly listened to her story. She had no idea about him, beyond his research firm. Maybe she could get him to share a little bit about his life over dinner. He was damned attractive, but maybe he had a wife or girlfriend. Hell, he probably had kids. He was plenty old enough to have that part of his life in hand.

  As if her thoughts had drawn him, she heard Jared’s footsteps and Jake’s whine that meant he wanted inside. She hurried to the door, and then felt foolish. It wasn’t locked. She wanted to see Jared, and the knowledge made her uncomfortable. She’d carved an independent life. No reason to alter that.

  It’s logical to want to see him. We’re the only ones left.

  I don’t know that, the other side of her mind argued. Where there are two, there are likely more.

  Beyond logic, her heart gave a funny little flip as she laid her hand on the doorknob and pulled it open.

  “Hey there!” He grinned and moved aside so Jake could bound into the cabin.

  The dog sat by his empty dishes and barked, tail thumping the floor.

  “You have water,” Sara told him.

  “Aw, we could give him some kibbles. He might not have found anything after you shooed him away from...” Jared hesitated.

  “It’s okay.” Sara picked up the dog’s dish and scooped kibbles out of a sack she’d opened earlier when she was arranging things in the cabin. It was a small space, and she’d filled the cellar until it would be a challenge to locate things. What didn’t fit spilled over into the main living space.

  She dumped the food into Jake’s dish, and he bent his head, chomping noisily.

  Jared unzipped his jacket and hung it on a hook. He checked the woodstove and tossed a couple chunks of wood into it. “Anything I can do to help with dinner? It smells great, by the way. Thanks for taking care of it.”

  “Least I could do.” She smiled because she couldn’t stop herself. “Only thing I didn’t rustle through was your pack. You must have food.”

  “Oh, that I do. I probably broke a bunch of laws riffling through the bear boxes at the North Lake campground. Took as much as I could carry.”

  “I’ll never tell. Sit.” She gestured at the small table. “I’ll dish us up.”

  He tugged a water bottle out of one of the side pockets in his pack that she’d propped against one wall and drank deep before pointing at the pump. “Water okay to drink?”

  “It comes from the creek. Probably. All the horses left this station a couple weeks before the attack.”

  He moved to the pump and refilled his water bottle. “Since you mentioned the attack, you said you had dispatches. You could tell me what’s in them, or I could look through them over dinner.”

  “I don’t mind sharing what’s in them, but...” Heat rose to her face. “I was hoping you’d tell me about yourself. You found out a lot about me, but all I know about you is what you do for a living.”

  A smile began in his eyes and spread to his mouth. “Sure. So long as you do the same. All you really described was how you ended up trapped in the Muir Hut and making a run for this station. I can look at the dispatches anytime.”

  “Fair enough. We can play you show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.” Her face grew warmer. “Crap! I didn’t mean it to come out quite like that.”

  His grin broadened. “It sounded fine by me.” He stopped by the stove and peeked into the pot. “Is it ready? I’m hungry.”

  “Yeah. Told you I’d dish up.”

  “I know you did, but I don’t need you to wait on me.” He picked up one of the bowls she’d laid out and ladled stew into it. Then he did the same with the other bowl and held it out to her. “Come on, Sara. Let’s eat.”

  They settled at the table and tucked in. She was hungry too, and didn’t pepper him with questions until they’d begun on their second bowlfuls.

  She caught his gaze. “Where do you live? And what do you do when you’re not working or in the backcountry?”

  “Would you like me to start at the beginning so you don’t have to feed me questions?”

  “Sure. That would be great.” She took a drink from her water bottle, waiting.

  “I live in San Francisco. Moved there to go to medical school and never left. My residency was in internal medicine and pathology, and I worked in the path lab at City General for six years, most of that for the government. They paid for my med school, and I owed them service.

  “Got a few ideas about how to address some of the worst diseases. Also brainstormed a bunch of fertile possibilities to stave off the aging process. On a whim, I floated them past some venture capital firms, and no one was more surprised than me when offers for funding began rolling in.” He shrugged
.

  “The rest is history. I opened Donovan Enterprises, and it’s done well enough for me to employ several people. We have—or had—some boutique cures in the FDA’s pipeline. If even one of them panned out, it would’ve made us all rich. We were actually planning an Initial Public Offering for our company in the next few months.”

  “So you would’ve been on one of the stock exchanges?”

  “Exactly.” He cocked his head to one side. “You know. Give John Q. Investor a chance to share in the spoils.”

  Sara pushed back enough from the table to cross one leg over the other. “Where’d you grow up? Do you have family?”

  “Oh.” He rolled his eyes. “Funny how I always leave out the personal stuff. Long habit.”

  “Know what you mean. You don’t have to answer—”

  “No. I want to. I grew up in Portland. Both my parents died quite young from cancer, which was why I was so interested in studying it on a cellular level. I have one brother. He’s a dentist and practices in Seattle.” He angled his head until his gaze met hers. “Never been married. No kids. No dogs, but I was contemplating changing that.”

  “So you have a fiancée?” She forced the words out. Wanting to know, but not.

  He threw his head back and laughed. “No. What I was considering changing was getting a dog. I’ve always been way too much of a loner. Not that I didn’t have girlfriends, but no one ever shared my obsession with the backcountry.” He winked at her. “That was always one of my make-or-break requirements.”

  He got to his feet and carried their bowls over to the stove. “Do you want more?”

  Sara shook her head. She was outrageously pleased by his answer about no fiancée, and trying her damnedest to hide it.

  “Me, either.” He pumped water into their dishes and left them on the roughhewn counter next to the pump.

  She started to get up.

  “Hold up there, sister.”

  “What? Why?”