Nemesis Alien Hybrid

by C. S Luis

  "Besides, I know what we're dealing with. And with the school being deserted for the holidays, there's no reason we can't make a stand here."

  "So, what are we going to do?" Mr. Claypool nervously asked.

  “Are we getting guns too?” Mr. Vasquez asked and Thomas seemed to echo his question as well.

  John wrinkled an eyebrow at them.

  “No,” he very dryly and plainly said. “No guns for anyone, boys.” He didn’t believe he had to say it. Was he talking to a bunch of 9th graders?

  “Ahhhh,” they both said, very disappointed.

  Not only that, there was no sense in telling them he wasn't staying. Michael would have to deal with that. All he was interested in was getting Claudia out of there before the fun started. That had been the plan all along.

  "Perhaps it's time we talk to Michael about the arrangements?" John suggested. He would let the old man handle that detail. He was sure of their safety, Bryce didn't want them. With Claudia beside him, Quentin would have to leave. Quentin would not dare follow them with the crystal tightly around her neck. And a smile spread over his handsome face with that rewarding realization.

  "Of course, I'll get him," Mr. Claypool volunteered but before he could move, Michael came rushing down the hallway toward them.

  "She's run off!" he exclaimed, coming closer. He nearly stumbled.

  "What?" John shot back. The look on Michael's face was enough to send fear running down his entire body.

  "She's gone—She ran off!” Michael yelled, trying to catch his breath.

  "Gone? What do you mean gone?" John growled.

  "She just ran off…she was quite upset!"

  "Well, did she say anything?" John nervously asked, staring at the old man. But just what did he expect him to say? His voice sounded shaky and unreal to him.

  "No. I tried calling her cell phone but she's left it behind. She must be in the building somewhere. Oh god!"

  "Well, if she's still in the building then she should be alright."

  "No, you have to get her out of here! There's no time to waste!" Michael yelled, putting a shaking hand on his head. He looked up at John; his lips were quivering as he did.

  "We have to find her. What if they already have her? What if we're already too late, John?" he yelled.

  "Claudia!" he called out into the empty halls. John grabbed hold of him and spun him around.

  "Sir, take a hold of yourself…. She's fine…we’ll find her, trust me."

  "No, don't tell me to relax! You said those people are out there, and if they find her...I won't be able to live with myself. Please, you must find her and get her out of here. Before they do!"

  "John! Please…" Michael cried, slightly shaking him. "You're the only one that can protect her."

  John blinked as the old man stood within inches of him, almost in tears.

  "Please," Michael said. "You said you wouldn't let anything happen to her."

  "Yes, I did," he uttered. “Liar!” a voice loudly shouted in his head. “Liar, Liar…” it continued.

  He staggered forward, feeling slightly light-headed, steadying himself before he could fall. Only realizing what was happening when Michael took hold of him and he was looking into his concerned eyes.

  "John, are you alright?" Michael asked. It sounded like utter nonsense at first. He couldn't understand his own words when he finally could make them clear.

  "Where is he?" John mumbled, regaining his composure and clearing his head. No one knew what he meant; Mr. Vasquez, Mr. Claypool, and even Michael seemed perplexed at what he was talking about.

  He moved around Michael, as the principal followed him nervously, the others moved aside, clearing a path for him. Then, suddenly, he spun around, the throbbing veins on his forehead showing his anger. Michael stood behind him, searching the entrance and the cafeteria itself in the same manner when he realized why John was suddenly so angry and distressed.

  "QUENTIN!" John yelled, clenching his teeth.

  31

  The Invasion

  Just outside Milton, two large delivery trucks pulled into the school parking lot. At the front of the building, a construction crew set up a few orange cones, redirecting traffic in the other direction. A few crewmen headed to the side of the building holding a large chain and wrapped them around the door handles, then attached a padlock.

  A crewman grabbed the radio strapped to his utility belt as a voice came through the other end, and listened closely before he answered.

  "Yes, sir, the doors are all secured at this end. The men are putting chains on the remaining doors as we speak. We have a crew heading to the back of the building now, sir." He looked at his partner then spoke into the radio again. "We're ready on our end…"

  They walked down the steps and to the back of the building where the rest of the construction crew was lifting the metal lid that led into the tunnels below the school. A secret most didn’t know of was that the school had a basement that was kept closed because it easily flooded.

  A fancy black SUV Lincoln turned into the school parking lot and stopped beside the construction crew. Two men in orange overalls came toward the SUV as the door opened in front of them. They lowered their flashlights as they glanced around the dark empty parking lot. There were few lights in the surrounding area and the cars that moved up and down Broadway Street were almost completely gone. With the holidays around the corner, there were few people and hardly any traffic to worry about.

  A tall man stepped out of the black SUV and came to stand in front of the two men in orange overalls. He was dressed in a white suit with a black silk shirt beneath and a red tie, wearing a dark pair of shades that he removed, putting them into his pocket. The glasses were not just merely a pair of shades but a strange device with the ability to see the odd. Another man stepped out from inside the Lincoln as the first visitor walked ahead toward the men working to lift the lid off the tunnels.

  The other man was wearing a long dark trench coat, the same shades but a dark suit. He too removed his shades and took two steps forward, staring ahead at the building.

  “Such an old school,” the man in the trench coat said, staring up at the structure. “Quite dated, the tunnels will come in handy.” He came across the gravel, the pebbles crackling below his feet as he managed to keep his balance.

  “The tunnels have been here since the school was built as a military hospital. They served to move supplies and bodies to and from the morgue to avoid possible contamination for those ill. As well as to not disturb or panic patients.” His lip slightly curved. “They closed it down only after the flooding,” Bryce replied.

  He appeared calm, gazing up at the building with a smile. Dr. Klein grinned, impressed perhaps with Bryce’s tiny history lesson.

  “Interesting structure,” Dr. Klein said, studying the building as The Man in White watched the crew working ahead.

  “I believe the architecture is called Romanesque,” Bryce said in reference to Milton’s exterior.

  "Why a school, I wonder? What is the alien in search of?" Dr. Klein asked Bryce.

  "That is what I intend to find out. All my patience has led me to this moment," Bryce replied, looking over at Dr. Klein. The doctor looked nervous and uneasy.

  “And I have been very patient for far too long.”

  “You’re taking a big risk, Bryce, all this without The Company’s authorization?” Dr. Klein worried.

  “I have authorization—to retrieve the rogue Venator at any cost.” Dr. Klein glared at him, puzzled by his defiance. He had never been aware that the Venator had gone rogue, hadn’t they been working together? Bryce flashed him a confident smile.

  The Company’s strict orders were to capture any rogue agents and terminate traitors at once. Was Bryce merely using John Slater to acquire the alien by any means?

  "Why is this particular alien of such an interest? Why is he so important to you, Bryce? You’ve never been one to care much for these things, for these beings. Even if they do
fancy The Company. Weren’t they all terminated by The Company years ago?" Dr. Klein asked.

  The Man in White frightened him because he could never be quite sure what he was thinking, or what his expression revealed. Or even what his intentions were. And he had learned from experience never to cross a man like Bryce Nicholson.

  "I have my reasons,” he answered very dryly and Dr. Klein seemed to understand what the glare meant. It was obviously none of his business, The Man in White’s eyes seemed to indicate.

  “We have unfinished business—the alien and I.”

  Dr. Klein didn’t understand what that meant.

  "How can we be sure it's still there?" Dr. Klein asked.

  "John Slater has assured me it is…and that is where I will find the source," Bryce offered, looking back at John’s baby blue Shelby Mustang sitting at the far end of the parking lot.

  Dr. Klein didn’t say anything as Bryce smiled again, turning to watch the crewmen in orange jumpsuits lift the metal lid away. A squad of 10 highly-trained men then dropped into the tunnel.

  “Once we have the alien—we’ll have the source,” Bryce said, gleaming victoriously. “And I can finally complete my experiment-”

  Dr. Klein glanced over at him as Bryce seemed assured of a victory.

  At the other side of the building, a group of men in military gear were entering the structure, one by one, while the remaining men chained the doorway to prevent any escape.

  The sergeant stood by metal doors along with a few other men and, one by one, each entered the dark hallway. He then stepped aside and allowed Bryce and Dr. Klein inside before he too followed into the dark interior.

  32

  Untrustworthy

  Someone could so easily get lost in Milton, the school hallways were endless and long, they seemed to stretch forever, unlike any other school. Milton was an old building with history, Michael had said to me at our first meeting. The school was a giant fortress and I wanted to be alone in it. But in that moment, I realized how much I wanted to be with Q and for him to be by my side to tell me everything was going to be alright. I didn't understand why the feeling was so great.

  Nearing the railing that overlooked the lower part of the entrance into the auditorium, I looked around, hoping with all my will for Q. I had pulled apart Mr. Slater's mind, his intentions, and I didn't want to believe them. Much worse, how could I expect Q to trust anyone, including me? All he wanted was to be accepted. Did Mr. Slater not understand that? He was human after all, Q was right in that sense. He saw only what he wanted, like everyone else.

  I walked on, weeping silently, my own sobs echoing loudly back at me. In Mr. Slater’s eyes, although beautiful in their strange golden hues, I saw a weakness and hatred. A part of him I thought could not exist.

  I closed my eyes, his voice was ringing in my ears, and it was full of malice.

  “I don't care what you do with it. I don't care.” It echoed. “I don't care what happens after. Just give me the girl…”

  But there was more, and I couldn't stop the flooding of such thoughts from entering my mind. I didn't want to hear anymore.

  “I don’t care about the others, do what you want. I’m done. Just promise me the girl. That’s all I’m interested in. I want her.”

  Was I some sick trade? But for what? The mere thought made me drop to the floor near the railing, leaving an uneasy feeling inside me. In the distance, I could make out unknown sounds, some echoes and voices darting then fading. Alone, I found myself unable to continue.

  At the front of the auditorium, facing me, there was a large mural displayed, which read “Go Milton Buffaloes.” The school mascot was a large buffalo, wearing a cheerleader’s sweater painted in the school colors, blue and gold. Flames or what resembled fire was drawn shooting out of its large nostrils, with a single, golden ring piercing through its snout and a grin on one side of its face.

  I recalled the envy in Mr. Slater’s eyes, as well as jealousy, whenever he looked at Q. I knew he meant to take me with him from the moment he had set foot in Milton. But why? Was it to protect me as his mind kept repeating to assure himself? Or was there a darker purpose that I still couldn't crack? Whatever it was, I didn't want to see anymore, afraid of what I'd find.

  I looked up at Q, who stood a few feet away from me, just as I had thought of him moments earlier; he was now tenderly gazing down at me.

  Immediately, I rushed to my feet and to his side, wrapping my arms around him. I held him tightly. He embraced me in return with a tenderness I longed for.

  As he held me, I felt my lips quiver as I tried to speak.

  "There, there, it's alright, my pet," he began long before I could even say a word. "I am here now. No one will harm you."

  "I won't let them hurt you," I sobbed, squeezing him to me. "Ever!" I boldly declared.

  He gently pulled me away, proudly smiling. His beautiful pale and flawless face floated like an outline in the darkness of the hall, while his dark dressings made him appear white as a ghost.

  "I know," he softly answered; a breath escaped him as his hand gently stroked my hair. I felt at ease.

  "I can take you far from here," his voice whispered.

  I pulled away and looked into his eyes; the flames of purple mixed with gold hues were dancing just like the colors of golden did in Mr. Slater green eyes. They were large and beautiful and I felt willed and drawn to him even more.

  "I know," I said, avoiding his words as he warmly smiled at me. I wanted to go. I wanted to say yes to him in that moment and never look back. But something made me break away, something awakened in me. I'm not sure what, and instead, I said,

  "Q, I don't want anything to happen to you," as I looked up at him with confusion and guilt in my eyes.

  "But I can't…please understand," I softly pleaded. "I just need your help. I can’t leave now—Please..."

  "Of course, I understand," he answered with a slight curve of his lip. "Anything for you, my pet."

  He then extended his hand to me and I took it. He pulled me close into his arms and I held him tightly as he enclosed me. Closing my eyes, I felt slightly intoxicated, like I was floating slowly up into the sky. I couldn't think straight. And then I began to realize that perhaps I needed Q more than I thought. I felt at peace whenever he was near; I had never felt such calmness with anyone else. Like he was a part of me that hadn't been completed until now.

  "Q," I softly whispered.

  "Yes, my pet…" his voice softly responded. I could feel his lips against the side of my face pressing gently down like a tender kiss.

  "Please don't hurt Mr. Slater...it's not his fault, he's only human after all."

  Q fell silent for a moment. His thoughts stirred slightly then there was calmness, an uplifting calmness I felt.

  "As you wish," he finally whispered into my ear, and then added, "But he will not take you away from me, that I can assure you."

  33

  The Deal

  John lowered his gun as he heard Claudia and Quentin's voices around the corner. Biting his upper lip, he sadly ducked away, moving back in the other direction. Thomas and Sam came to meet him halfway.

  "There's nothing there. Let's keep moving in the other direction, boys," he uttered. They looked at one another and clumsily scattered ahead.

  Claudia wasn't safe with Quentin, John thought. Why had she removed the crystal from around her neck? But he knew why and it filled the very veins in his body with rage. Yet, what power could the crystal hold over him? He wasn't sure how it worked and how it would protect her. Only that it had once, and that was good enough for him. But without it, she seemed easily drawn to him, easily manipulated. The more time she spent with him, the more she would become like him. And his will over her would strengthen, if it hadn't already.

  And now he recalled the last conversation…

  “He’s returned to Texas,” John said into the phone.

  “And you know his location?”

  “Not yet, but it�
�s only a matter of time,” John informed the voice at the other end. He knew he was smiling.

  The phone call ended as three black SUVs drove up to the gas station where John had stopped for gas. He was standing next to his blue Shelby when they drove up.

  “Bryce,” John whispered, knowing the entourage of vehicles could only be his boss. He put the phone down and leaned against the side of his car. The vehicles parked alongside his vehicle, one beside the other, the one nearest to him opened, and a man in a black suit stepped out to allow John inside. He climbed in.

  Bryce was seated at the other end of the seat.

  “You failed to bring him in as I requested. Where is he?” were his first words. He was staring out the side window. He very slowly turned and gazed in John’s direction. His blue eyes were darkened, shadowed by the black silk shirt he was wearing, but the pale of his face was far whiter to match the suit he wore. He appeared washed out except for those bold, dark blue eyes that were usually a pastel blue.

  “Near…and I didn’t fail anything. He’s returned to Texas as I informed you.” John corrected him.

  “He plans to make contact?” Bryce asked him.

  “I’m almost certain,” John said. “I left my calling card. I know him.”

  “He’s coming to Milton.” John wrinkled his eyes at him. Why did he suspect that?

  “There must be a reason for his return, other than making contact. He can’t be that stupid,” Bryce said. “If he knows you are tracking him it would be a foolish mistake on his part returning to Texas, and far worse a mistake to come to Milton.”

  “In all fairness, sir, we both know Jack doesn’t always use the greatest judgment,” John replied. Bryce wrinkled a lip slightly. It was well noted.

  “Indeed. Still, I can’t help but wonder what has convinced him to return.” He glanced out the window again. John sat, nervously awaiting what he would say next.