Outside, the green-eyed man sat in his car. He watched as a flash came from a third-floor window in the hotel. “Dammit, here we go,” he whispered and took a drag on his cigarette.
VI
After a dream first feeding, Savannah had flashed away and the nightmare began.
The problem with flashing was that the traveler had to be able to visualize where they wanted to go in vivid detail. It could take a traveler almost anywhere. Some were good enough that they could flash between planets. Others had the ability to flash somewhere simply from the description. The problem came when the traveler’s mind became confused, disoriented or distracted.
Savannah had tried to visualize a field she had seen behind the hotel. Not a far flash at all. However, having experienced her first feeding followed quickly by her first very powerful orgasm, she was disoriented and distracted. To say that she missed was a severe understatement.
That she found herself cold and naked was bad. The snowy road she looked at was further cause for concern. The biggest problem, however, was that she was mid-air thirty feet above the road. She had been trained to deal with Earth’s stronger gravity for walking, but not for flying.
Gravity, a harsh and violent mistress, dragged Savannah’s body down and slammed her on the icy asphalt.
Both arms held out to defend, but were twigs snapped on impact. A scream leaped from her lips and tears streamed down her cheeks.
A cold wind whipped some of the snow against a large green sign that read, “Welcome to Winnipeg.”
“I don’t like this place,” she said to the dark clouded sky. She rolled off the asphalt to lie back in the snow. Death seemed inevitable and, she imagined there would be much ridicule from colleagues about how short this mission was. A shiver took her and she felt like she was floating. Thoughts of the poison tooth in her mouth fleetingly crossed her mind. These human doctors could not be allowed access to an engineered corpse. Then she heard the crunch of snow under an approaching vehicle. By the sound, it was a large vehicle that had its engine turned off followed by a door click.
“Miss? Can I help you?” Boot falls followed as the owner of the deep voice approached.
Savannah looked up and saw the shadow of a face and ball cap in silhouette against the dark clouds before fading to unconscious.
Part Two
In the Cold North
I
April 1 1977…Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan
“No joke, Ma!” Howard smiled into the handset of the wall payphone. “You have a grandson...about seven-thirty this morning.” He took a drag from his cigarette. “Weight...um...I'll have to get back to you on that.”
The maternity ward waiting area was nearly empty. As was typical of the conservative nature of the area, just sheer will had most weekend births happening on Sunday...the Lord's day.
Howard Moss did not care, though. A scientist needed proof of things...such as divinity, and he had none, so his first-born son on a Monday was perfect.
“Isaac Gerald...yes, Isaac...for Isaac Asimov. What? No, we told you we were not going to name him after Uncle Bernard.” He sighed. “No, Isaac Asimov was not Catholic...yes, mother...I know...I know...goodbye, mother.”
II
June 3, 2016…Eastern Prairie Maximum Security Penitentiary, Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan
Isaac Gerald Moss never met his grandmother. She refused to acknowledge a grandchild named after an atheist. The irony that her favorite grandchild, Peter Joseph Templeton, killed her over her refusal to loan him twenty dollars for smokes was a quiet one that even she did not see until it was too late.
Like his namesake, Isaac Gerald Moss, became a writer. His success was limited to publishing a few short science fiction pieces under the pseudonym of Moss Isaaks, but he published nonetheless and had a small loyal following. His real job, a term that he always followed with his eyes rolling, was a long haul trucker working for WonderMart and taking retail materials to the firm’s stores along a route from the main warehouse in Winnipeg, Manitoba, to Chicago, Illinois.
With no kids, and never having married, he had some decent money put aside for his own future. It also helped not needing a big place and finding a nice landlord that kept Gerald’s rent cheap for fear of losing a good and loyal tenant.
His life had always been solitude. It began as an only child and only increased when both his parents passed on. Evenings were spent with his laptop, either in the apartment or his truck sleeper, imagining the next great space opera that he would begin to write. This space opera would be exciting and dramatic until Gerald lost interest and went in search of a new idea.
Every so often he did go to home to Saskatchewan and visit cousin Pete in prison. With the family tending to slant to the religious right, Pete was the only family member that seemed interested in keeping in touch. The interest had only started when Pete went to prison, however, and Gerald assumed it came from a shared exclusion from the family.
Initially, Gerald was convinced that the interest would vanish if Pete were ever paroled. Twenty years later, however, the cousins had a strong bond and parole seemed very unlikely.
Gerald rapped his fingers lightly on the grey table, waiting for his cousin to be brought out for their biannual visit. Thanks to recent events, he always thought of the Bluth family as he sat here.
“There he is!” Pete’s voice was severely gruff, likely from the thirty years of smoking.
Gerald looked up to see his older cousin. Pete was thirteen years older than Gerald. “How are you, Pete?” He stood up and hugged his cousin.
No one yelled, “No touching!” as the guards here knew the cousins and trusted them.
Pete sat down. “I got the new Skewer,” he said, holding up the rolled up magazine in his hand. “I love the new story.”
“Thanks, Pete.” Red came to Gerald’s cheeks.
“I love how you have that character Jameson trying to start a war with the aliens. Way out there, man, starting a war to improve the economy. But I liked it.”
Gerald grinned. “How’s your dad?”
Pete’s face dropped.
“Oh fuck, I’m sorry, Pete.”
Pete held up his hands. “No, man, he’s still alive. He just doesn’t remember shit anymore. The dementia has gone too far. Truth is, I think his mind couldn’t handle mom dying last year, so it decided to shut down.”
Gerald nodded and grimaced.
“So it’s just you and me, brother. When I get out of here I’ll come to Winnipeg and we’ll work on that novel.”
Gerald exaggerated a long blink and sighed. “I’m not sure…”
Pete held up his hands again. “I know. I’m not getting out of here.”
“Grandma had too much money. Lawyers have way too much funding for you to get out easily.”
“I know, man. I know. Listen, though, I had an idea for a story for you.”
“Let’s hear it then.” Gerald smiled. Pete’s ideas were always interesting, but rarely usable.
“What if an alien came down and fell in love with a human?”
“Dude, it’s been done.”
Pete frowned. “Well, I’m sure it has been done, but…”
“I’ll think about it and see what I come up with, alright? Can I at least give you credit for helping me write this one?”
“Fuck, no,” Pete said. “I’m just an idea. You’re the talent.”
Gerald reached over and patted Pete’s hand. “As you wish, Pete.”
Pete grinned. “How long are you in town?”
“Driving home tonight. Was able to get a run here, actually, subbing in for Sammy and now taking back an empty trailer before heading to Chicago tomorrow.”
“No woman in your life yet?”
Gerald could not stop the small chuckle. “No woman, yet.”
“One of these days, man, she’ll just fall from the fucking sky.”
“Yeah, right, like your romantic alien idea. Oh, where’s Darryl?” Gerald looked around at the guards.
Pete pointed straight behind Gerald. “You got it, didn’t you?”
“Dude, it’s me.” Gerald turned and raised his voice to call the guard, “Hey Darryl!” He waved him over.
Darryl, with his tight mustache and lack of hair, grinned. The burly guard walked over. “Howdy, Gerald.”
“How are you?”
“Great now, but if you have what I think you have…”
Gerald pulled open his coat. The inside pocket contained a hardcover book that he had shown at the security scans prior to entering and explained what his plan was with it. He was relieved there were no rookie guards on today or they would likely have given him issue over his plan.
Darryl’s eyes widened. “You didn’t?”
“You bet I did.” Slipping the book out of his pocket, he cradled it briefly. “First edition of American Gods, but unfortunately it has lost its dust cover.”
Pete grinned, also knowing what it was. “You fuckin’ did, man.”
“However, think I have something better than the dust cover.” Opening the book, Gerald pointed to the words scrawled in black pen on the title page that read:
“To Darryl, thanks for reading, Neil Gaiman”.
Darryl’s face went pale and he grabbed the table for balance.
Three other guards, seeing the large man nearly stumble, came charging. The smile on Darryl’s face and laughter had them slowing and just coming over to see.
“Got him to sign it at a conference I was at in Chicago,” Gerald said. “I told you I’d get it.”
His eyes now tearing, Darryl lifted Gerald from his chair and hugged him. “You did. You really did.”
III
June 6, 2016…approaching Chicago, Illinois, USA
Savannah awoke to the voice of Sting singing about being the King of Pain and the hum of gears grinding. She blinked at the rising sun and could see the Chicago skyline beginning forming like a mist ahead. Turning to see the driver, she recognized him from her last memory in the snow. “Where did the snow go?”
The vehicle was large, old and squeaked with every bump. Occasional blasts of static blurted from the old style CB-radio followed random quiet words. Outside the sun held sway, but dark clouds were ominously heading towards the city from the east.
He laughed. Obviously these were not the words he first expected out of her mouth. “We’ve gone south. June is more what you would expect down here. Not as many random snow falls in the middle of summer as you’ll get in Manitoba.”
Her brown eyes searched his pockmarked face. “Where are we?”
His eyes were wide. “Chicago. Have you never seen Chicago? I figured it was pretty obvious.”
“Oh?”
“You said you wanted to come.”
“I did? I don’t recall that when you picked me up last night.”
“Last night? You’ve been with me two days. I think your head took a pretty good knock. Plus those arms, I swore they were both broken.”
Savannah shrugged. She was not about to share the fact that she could heal injuries significantly faster than humans. “No, they are fine. Two days…?”
“I picked you up and put you in the cab. You said you did not want to go to the hospital and that you wanted to ride south. You were asleep in the cab’s sleeper when we crossed the border and luckily the customs officers never looked, so we just kept going.”
Silence followed. Savannah did not know exactly what to say. Kindness was not something covered in her training, especially shown by a random stranger to her.
“Coffee?” He picked up one of the two large brown wax-paper cups that were held in the cup-holders.
“Thanks.” She swallowed a gulp. The caffeine in the drink did nothing for her, but the warmth of the liquid did wake her more. “You could have just left me…?”
“I’m Gerald, by the way, and you seemed to need help. I couldn’t just leave you.” He switched gears as they came to a highway exit that took them off I-90 and onto 290 heading south.
The tune changed as a guitar opened the next song.
“You’re not the average bear, are you?”
“Nope. Most would have just kept driving. I can’t, though. When I saw you in the snow, all bleeding and naked, I had…”
“What is this music?” Savannah found her head bopping to the tune involuntarily.
A quick glance at her had Gerald laughing. “It seems you’re a Rush fan.”
“Who?”
“Rush? Big Money is the song. You’ve never heard of them? I mean it is a retro tune, but that is funny.”
“Where did the clothes come from?”
Gerald sighed and picked up his own coffee for a sip. “My girlfriend. Luckily you are about the same size.”
“Are you driving home to her?”
He sipped again and put the coffee back down. “I am driving home, yes…but not to her.”
“Oh?”
“She died three years ago.”
This development had Savannah at a loss for further words. Having only been on the planet the better part of a day, her small talk skills were basic to begin with. She had no idea how to answer with anything other than silence.
The next few minutes left only the music between them.
Pulling the truck off and turning back east on Elgin O’Hare Parkway, Gerald slowed the truck. “Hungry?”
“Yeah, I’m famished…um…”
“…Gerald. The memory is bound to come back.”
“Gerald,” she repeated slowly and knew he would not be the next meal. She could not prey upon one that had shown her such kindness. She could not prey upon a friend.
“So where are you going, anyway?” He eased the truck off the road into the parking lot for David’s Truck Stop.
“South, I think.”
“South, you think. Well, not sure I can take you much further.”
“You’ve done so much for me already…Gerald. Thank you.”
He smiled. “Tell you what, let me buy you breakfast and then we’ll see about getting you a ride further.”
They had breakfast together…sort of. Gerald plowed through a plate of bacon and eggs while Savannah sipped coffee, again without mentioning that her nourishment came through other means. It seemed an odd thing to tell him and, at best, would have him thinking her to be crazy.
Outside, the skies began to cloud over and even fog rolled into the parking lot gently misting the area.
As Gerald wandered to the washroom, Savannah made her exit. She even used the credit card she had taken from Lilyanne, the flight attended she had fed upon the night prior, to pay for their meal.
It was easy to find a horny trucker willing to give her a ride. Simply walking by one bald plump man as he climbed up into his cab and the ride was offered. The ride she had in mind, however, did not involve him driving anywhere. She quickly polished him off with a blowjob that dragged his orgasm so fast she almost was not ready to take it. Glancing up from his now ancient looking body, she watched just over the dash as Gerald left the diner.
He spun around, obviously concerned about her. He had expected, however, that the bruised and injured brunette would run. The unexpected part was finding out she had taken the time to pay for his meal.
Savannah, thanks to now having a quick feed, was no longer bruised. He would not recognize her other than the clothing.
Gerald climbed into the cab of his own truck and quickly headed off to deliver whatever he was hauling.
Slipping out of the cab of the now dead trucker, Savannah walked over to another driver that seemed to be preparing his smaller cube van to head out. “Excuse me?”
He turned around to face her. His blue eyes almost flew out of his head as he took in her model-like features, and he made a very poor attempt to suck in his massive beer-belly. “Can I help you?” His voice was deep and heavy southern.
“Where are you heading?”
He smiled and looked over the glasses riding down his nose. “Gary, Indiana. Ab
out two hours with a few stops between here and there.”
She smiled. “Sounds perfect.”
IV
South Ave. G, Camulet Park, Chicago, IL
His green eyes burned as he took in the dusty corpse. Evan had trouble understanding the arrogance of the girl to take such a man for feeding, one who had deliveries and would be missed. “Shit,” he whispered.
The dusk came swiftly with the remaining overhead crowds. The heavy rainstorm and surrounding trees had kept anyone from finding the vehicle before Evan. A few drops fell on the dark shoulders of his overcoat.
He stepped across the road to his car and opened the rear driver-side door.
“Was it her?” Genna sat in the passenger seat.
“Yes, it has begun.”
“Fuck,” Genna gasped a whisper. “I still hope you’re wrong.”
“I’m not. We need to prepare the children to run. For her to have done this…” He reached into the sleeve behind the drivers seat and pulled out something that looked like a pistol. Turning back to the truck, he glanced both ways to make certain he was still unobserved. Leveling the pistol at the cube van, he pulled the trigger.
The van was gone, save a dark shadow on the ground that no one from Earth would later be able to figure out.
Evan slipped the pistol back into its hiding spot and got back behind the steering wheel.
“For her to have done what?”
“To feed so openly, without concern of getting caught. It means this is not simply a reconnaissance mission and the eviction will be coming soon…and she is likely to find the predator quickly.”
“Who is the predator?”
“The last agent sent on reconnaissance. Once that agent is found…”
“The predator is the one you’ve never found,” Genna said with a gasp.
Evan nodded and his eyes flashed green. “Eviction will begin almost immediately.”
Just Prey: Savannah - Book One Page 3