by Darien Cox
“What’s going on?” Elliot stared down at Baz, whose shoulders looked too lean for the CIA tee shirt he wore.
“Is he awake?” Wiley asked Rhonda. “He fall asleep again?”
“Hey, Baz?” Rhonda leaned over and gently shook his shoulder.
Baz mumbled something incoherent, then his head turned to Rhonda. “Thirsty,” he rasped.
“Here, have some more of this. Elliot and Nolan are here.”
Baz struggled to sit up straight.
“Here, here, drink some more of this first.” Rhonda handed him a cup of something brown and sludgy with a straw. Baz took a long sip.
“Hey buddy,” Nolan said. “Nice sunglasses.”
“Take off,” Baz said, swiping at his face. He seemed extremely weak, his arm dropping back at his side.
“His eyes were hurting, so we gave him the glasses so the light wouldn’t bother them.” She slid the glasses off Baz’s face.
“Kind, Rhonda,” Baz said. “Thank to you.”
Rhonda smiled affectionately. “My pleasure.”
Baz’s beautiful large eyes with the colorful double-iris were red and bloodshot. But he shifted them, focusing on Elliot. “Ellytot.”
“Hey!” Elliot shuffled over and took the seat Dr. Sullivan vacated. “How you feeling?”
“Much to tell, Ellytot. Bad times. But happy to look you face.”
Elliot smiled. “It’s good to see you too.”
“Baz,” Wiley said. “Ask them. What you said before. No time for niceties.”
Baz took Elliot’s hand in his, skin hot and dry. “Hybrids? Touch you?”
“No,” Elliot said. “None of them touched us. We were speaking to them from a second floor window. Do you know that hybrid? Shorter hair, gray gown?”
Baz’s white eyebrows lowered. “Yes. Bag of dirt.”
“Bag of dirt?” Nolan said.
Baz looked up at Nolan. “Words wrong? What Rudy say when he does not like person.”
“Oh, dirt-bag.” Elliot chuckled.
White lashes blinked, high forehead wrinkling in a frown. “No touch you? Shaytee? Nolan? Chrischris? Hybrid touch?”
“No. No one got touched.”
“I did,” Nolan said. “On the mountain a few days ago. That hybrid shook my hand.”
Ogden flinched.
“Oh shit, that’s right,” Elliot said.
Baz lifted a weak arm and gently pushed on Elliot’s shoulder. “Nolan. Sit.”
Elliot got up and Nolan squeezed by, taking the seat next to Baz.
“Touch you? Handshake?”
“Yeah.” Nolan nodded. “Just real quick, though. Why?”
“Cold?”
Elliot’s gut tightened. Nolan nodded. “Yeah. His hand was really cold.”
“Fuck,” Baz said. “Give to. What hand?”
Nolan offered Baz his right hand. Baz’s spindly fingers took it and turned Nolan’s hand over, thumbs tracing across his palm. “Okay. Yes. Okay. Tag.”
“He’s been tagged?” Elliot said.
“Yes. Okay. They be look for me. Maybe want to follow you.”
“What the fuck,” Elliot said. “That’s how they knew we were at Quint’s.”
“And that’s how they can know where we are now,” Wiley said. “Can we cut the tracker out? Rhonda?”
“No to cut,” Baz said, his voice dry and raspy. “Baz to do.”
“What do you need?” Rhonda asked him. “Baz, tell me what to do.”
“Alcohol?”
“We have alcohol pads,” Dr. Sullivan said. “Will that do?”
“Many,” Baz said. “For ready?”
“How many?” Sullivan opened a first aid kit and grabbed a handful of prepackaged alcohol swabs.
Baz glanced at them. “Open all. Hold ready please. Push me up?”
Rhonda adjusted the cot, making Baz more upright. His big colorful eyes looked at Nolan as he took his hand again. “Apology. Will be pain.”
“Just get it out of him!” Ogden snapped.
“Hey, easy!” Rhonda said. “He’s had a head injury, is coming off painkillers, and he’s moving as fast as he can.”
“Not as fast as those hybrids likely can if they’re still tracking us,” Wiley said. “Baz. Whatever you’re going to do, do it now.”
Baz’s long lashes closed over his eyes, bony white hands wrapping around Nolan’s palm. Baz’s arms trembled, mouth falling open.
“Ah, fuck your mother!” Nolan shouted, his back jerking. “Son of a bitch!”
Elliot and Ogden jumped in and held onto Nolan’s shoulders.
“Apology,” Baz said, barely above a whisper. His breathing became audible, raspy whistles as he squeezed Nolan’s palm.
Nolan winced and hissed, and Elliot said, “Holy fuck what is that?”
Silver beads like liquid mercury seeped from the skin of Nolan’s palm. “Alcohol,” Baz said. Sullivan handed him one of the pads and Baz swabbed Nolan’s hand clean.
“Is that it?” Elliot asked. Nolan was still hissing in pain, his jaw tight.
Baz closed his eyes again and clung to Nolan’s hand. More of the silvery liquid seeped from under his skin, pooling in his palm. Baz’s eyes opened. “Alcohol.”
Dr. Sullivan handed Baz swab after swab, and Baz wiped Nolan’s palm until the skin was clear. He stared at Nolan’s hand for another thirty seconds, then looked up. “Okay.” He let go of Nolan’s palm.
Nolan let out a long sigh and leaned back. Elliot held his shoulders. “You okay?”
“If that shit’s out of me, yeah.”
“Burn,” Baz said, pointing to the soiled alcohol pads. “Burn.”
“I’m on it.” Wiley put on rubber gloves and picked up the swabs, then disappeared into the back of the truck.
“Is that it?” Ogden asked Baz. “No more tag?”
“No more,” Baz said. “All clear.” He wobbled, then teetered forward, slipping off the cot and falling to the floor.
“Shit!” Nolan scrambled to get him up, Rhonda leaning down to help lift.
They picked Baz up and set him back on the cot, Rhonda feeling around his neck.
“Is he okay?” Elliot asked.
“Let me see.” Dr. Sullivan stepped in and peeled back Baz’s eyelid. He shone a light, then leaned down and listened to his chest. “I think he just passed out.”
“Whatever he just did to get that tracker stuff out of Nolan, he wasn’t in top shape to do so,” Rhonda said. “He needs to rest. And I want to set up an IV to get more fluid into him.”
Ogden’s phone buzzed and Quint’s voice came through. “Ogden, you read?”
“I’m here, Quint.”
“JT and Christian just arrived. You want to see them?”
“No. Take them in the car with you. I’ll keep Elliot and Nolan here. We need to get on the road. Right now.”
“Copy.”
Wiley walked to the front of the truck and pounded his fist on the cab. “Shane! Let’s go.”
The engine rumbled, then they were moving.
Elliot rested a hand on Nolan’s shoulder, both of them staring down at Baz while Rhonda hooked him up to an IV. “He looks like hell.”
“Yeah?” Rhonda said. “Well he’s tough as nails. He’s still catching up after the blood loss but he’s healing faster than anything I’ve ever seen.” She smiled at them. “You can relax. He’s gonna pull through. I’d bet on it.”
Ogden sat down on a bench and sighed, leaning over and holding his head in his hands. Elliot had never seen Ogden show even a glimmer of weakness, so it was unsettling. “Have you been able to get any intel from him?” Nolan asked.
Ogden straightened. “Not yet. As soon as we got on the road, Wiley briefed him as to what was happening. First we weren’t sure he was even listening, then he started going on about whether or not you all had been touched by the hybrids. Talking about tags and tracking. After that?” He pointed to Baz. “Here we are.”
“How long will he be out?�
� Wiley returned from the back of the truck.
“I don’t know,” Rhonda said. “If he can rest for the trip, he should be able to talk once we arrive at headquarters. He did pretty well just now, even half-sedated.”
“He did great,” Elliot said. “Must have taken some juice to get that shit out of Nolan’s hand. You feel all right by the way?”
“I feel fine.” Nolan traced a finger across his palm. “It’s like nothing even happened. Hurt like a bitch at the time, though.”
“Yeah,” Tyler said. “We heard.” They all glanced back at Tyler, who stood behind them with a smirk. “You said fuck your mother.”
“I’m aware Tyler,” Nolan said. “Thanks.”
“So.” Elliot cocked an eyebrow at Ogden. “You’re finally taking us behind the curtain.”
“Don’t get too excited,” Ogden said. “You’ll have limited access to the facility.”
“Oh come on,” Nolan said. “No Grey aliens floating in chambers or anything? Nuclear physicists from the cold war chained up and forced to design weapons of mass destruction?”
“Bigfoot,” Elliot said. “I bet you’ve got a bigfoot in there somewhere.”
Ogden rolled his eyes. “No bigfoot. Nothing like that.”
“Is there food?” Elliot asked. “I’m starving.”
“Yes, Elliot, there will be food.”
“From replicators?” Nolan said. “Like in Star Trek? Can I get me a Klingon blood pie?”
Ogden stood. “I’m going to talk to Tyler. It’s way too early to deal with the two of you.”
****
“When are they gonna let us know what’s going on?” JT said. “I love you guys, but this room is getting claustrophobic.”
Elliot mumbled his agreement as he mauled a meatball sub.
Christian laughed. “Elliot sure is hungry. Nolan, you wear him out?”
“Don’t be rude,” Nolan said.
Wiping his mouth with a napkin, Elliot smiled. They’d been ushered into a conference room once they’d arrived at the facility. No one saw much on the way in, as Nolan and Elliot were in the back of the truck, and Christian and JT said Quint had made them wear hoods the last half-hour of the trip, which they were significantly displeased with. They’d been brought food, but the waiting was getting on everyone’s nerves. They all had too many burning questions. About how Baz was faring, if he’d woken up, and what he’d have to say about things when he did.
“Do you think the hybrids are the ones that hurt Baz?” Christian asked.
“I think escaping through the air vent is mostly what hurt Baz,” JT said.
“Rhonda said someone made that incision on his thigh, though,” Elliot said. “Someone was bleeding him.”
The door opened and Wiley stuck his head in. “JT. He’s awake. He’s asking for you.”
JT and the others stood.
“I said JT.” Wiley scowled.
JT stepped toward Wiley. “Did Baz specify he wanted to see only me?”
“No. But you’re the only one he’s asking for.”
“Then they’re coming with me.”
Wiley’s teeth clenched.
“Come on, Wiley,” JT said. “Whatever happens they’ll have to be briefed anyway and you know it. Anything Baz has to say, the whole team needs to hear.”
“Fine,” Wiley said. “I don’t have time to argue. Let’s go. Elliot, wipe your mouth.”
“Huh?”
Nolan grabbed a napkin off the table and swiped Elliot’s chin. He smiled. “Tomato sauce.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
“Follow me.”
The hallway was wide and sterile looking, gleaming tile floors, shiny black domes concealing surveillance cameras along the walls, a string of closed doors. They got in an elevator and Wiley pressed in a code, then they were descending. “Is this whole place underground?” Elliot asked.
“Irrelevant,” Wiley said.
The door opened and Wiley led them down another hallway. At the end was a large silver door. Wiley punched in a code and the door slid open.
They stepped into a large room, wide and open with white walls, few furnishings aside from two long tables along the wall with computer monitors. Baz was there in his cot, sitting up, eyes open and blinking. Rhonda was removing the IV from his arm, a slim table with medical supplies alongside the cot. Ogden and Dr. Sullivan stood nearby.
“Okay.” Ogden approached the cot. “JT is here, Baz. Start talking.”
“Shaytee.” Baz smiled.
“Hey, you.” JT and Christian approached the cot. “Had a rough ride, huh?”
“Rough,” Baz said. He held his arm out. “Chrischris. To be well?”
“I’m very well.” Christian took his hand. “So good to see you. Nice tee shirt. You in the CIA now?”
Baz smiled at Christian then lowered his eyes, letting go his hand. “Ah ah. No. Hoggin say…shady fuckers but should fit.”
Wiley laughed hard and long, an unusual sound coming from him. Elliot gave him wide eyes. Wiley shrugged. “The CIA are shady fuckers. It was funny.”
“Didn’t realize you had a sense of humor,” Elliot said.
“No to joke now,” Baz said. “No time. Before to grill by Hoggin give to Shaytee. Prepared. But then Baz need…” He glanced up at Rhonda. “Three week since use facility.”
“What facility?” Ogden asked.
“Embarrassing,” Baz said.
Dr. Sullivan said, “I think he needs to use the bathroom.”
“Yes. Okay. Injury. Make things not good inside.”
“Oh, that’s great!” Rhonda said. “If he has to pee it means his kidneys are functioning.”
“Three weeks,” Wiley said. “How often do you usually go to the bathroom?”
“Pretty sure that’s irrelevant at this point,” Elliot said.
“We can take you to the bathroom now, Baz,” Rhonda said.
“No.” Baz held up a hand. “First. Important. Shaytee? Behind.”
JT moved closer to the cot. “Behind what, Baz?”
Baz rolled onto his side, reached back and slid the sweatpants down.
“Oh boy.” Christian took a step back.
Elliot stared down at Baz’s bare white ass. Aside from the chalky white color, it looked like any human buttocks. There were a couple of bruises and a small cut. Baz pointed to the cut on his left cheek.
Wiley leaned over. “Something under your skin? What is it, Baz?”
“Behind,” Baz said. “Inside. Made for you, Shaytee.”
Ogden said, “Baz what do you mean?”
“Oh, of course,” Rhonda said. “Excuse me, JT.” JT stepped back and Rhonda moved in, touching Baz’s buttock gently. “This wound here. I didn’t pay much attention because I assumed he got it in transition, like all the others but…” She pressed her fingers down. “Yeah. There’s something under his skin. I can feel it now.”
“Yes,” Baz said. “To cut? Cautious please. Prepare. To Shaytee.”
“Dr. Sullivan?” Rhonda said. “Bring me that light?”
Baz let out a long, tired sigh. Christian rounded the table and leaned over Baz. “So you hid something in here, huh?”
“Ah ah. Yes. Butt most flesh. No to likely they find if Baz to be caught second time.”
“What happened to you?” Christian asked softly.
“Step back please, Christian,” Rhonda said. “I need him completely still. Okay Baz?”
“Yes, okay. Please to cautious.”
“I’ll be very careful.” Rhonda leaned over and went to work.
Nolan turned away. Elliot glanced at him, then did the same.
“Got it,” Rhonda said. “Dr. Sullivan, can you close this up for me?”
Nolan and Elliot turned around as Rhonda placed something on a metal tray.
“What is that?” Ogden leaned over the tray, and the rest of them gathered round. On the tray was what looked like a translucent, oval amber gem.
“Baz can I touch this?�
� Rhonda asked.
“Okay.” Baz winced as Dr. Sullivan stitched him up. “To squeeze, for Shaytee. To pinch?”
Rhonda dabbed the item with a gauze pad, then picked it up with tweezers. With gloved fingers, she pinched the gem. Something flat and metallic poked out one end.
“What is that?” Elliot asked.
“May I?” Ogden gently took the item from Rhonda. “Looks like…a USB connector.”
“Yes. Okay,” Baz said. “Make fit. Make fit for Shaytee. Make fit for you to read.”
“You made me a flash drive,” JT said, staring at the item in Ogden’s hand.
“Will heal,” Baz said, turning on the cot and slapping Dr. Sullivan’s hand away.
“I wasn’t finished stitching—”
“Butt to heal okay!” Baz sat up. “No time.” Baz looked over at Ogden. “Hoggin. How long? Find me?”
“We found you yesterday morning,” Ogden said. “This is the second day you’ve been with us.”
“Okay. Shaytee to read. Baz to use facilities.”
“Yeah.” Rhonda took her gloves off. “Let’s get this guy to a bathroom. Do we have a wheelchair handy?”
“I can walk.” Baz slid his legs over the side of the cot.
Rhonda frowned. “Are you sure?”
“To be strong now,” Baz said. He let his feet hit the floor then rose up. Stumbled once, and Rhonda caught him. Then he took a step.
“Okay let’s go,” Rhonda said. “This way. Lean on me if you need to.”
As Rhonda led Baz to a room in the corner, he called back, “Shaytee. To read now. Hoggin. All to listen. Okay?”
“Okay,” Ogden said. “Thank you, Baz.”
Once Baz and Rhonda disappeared into the bathroom, Ogden ran to the corner table and picked up a tablet. “JT. Over here. Now.”
JT walked over and watched as Ogden slid the gem into a USB port.
“Damn.” Nolan shook his head. “He created a flash drive for us.”
“Probably a simple task for him,” Wiley said.
“I know,” Nolan said. “This means they’re extremely comfortable and intimate with our computers, ASCII, our operating systems, protocols, the whole nine. With Baz’s baby talk we forget that he’s—”
“An alien,” Elliot said. “And brilliant.”
Ogden tapped the tablet, then frowned. “Holy shit.”