Just Plain Weird (34 page)

    
    
“What is that noise now?-- that buzzing noise?” Eliza asked.

    
    
“It’s flying.”

    
    
“It’s flying? It can do that? Why didn’t you tell me?”

    
    
“I didn’t know-- I just figured it out myself.”

    
    
She snorted. “You weren’t kidding about a problem communicating. The artifact doesn’t tell you that these things can fly, and I’m the one who’s insane?”

    
    
I shushed her, then. The humming had stopped; it hadn’t stopped abruptly, but faded away. I tried to figure out where it had landed, playing the sound over and over in my mind. It was impossible to tell for sure. It might be on the opposite side of the warehouse, or it could be right next to the side passenger window, staring in at me, the blackness and its repugnant form blending in with the darkness around us.

    
    
I heard Eliza draw a breath, as though ready to speak and I squeezed her hand very hard, hard enough to make her wince. At least she got the message to keep her mouth shut.

    
    
Seconds passed slowly, as I listen intently and tried not even to breath. All I could hear at first was my heart beating, hard and fast. Something told me this would be a very bad moment for Eliza to open her mouth and say something. She must have had the same feeling, as she remained silent. I could feel her hand trembling, maybe out of fear but probably from forcing herself to keep quiet. It must really have been killing her; she was one of those people who just have an impossible time not saying something when they have something to say-- she would never in a million years win one of those contests to see who could remain quiet for the longest time.

    
    
I thought I heard something, then, a soft rustling sound. It was near the car, but I couldn’t say exactly where. I was certain we were about to be discovered. I turn Eliza’s hand over. I pinched my index finger and thumb together, and pressed them into her palm, and made a twisting motion. I wasn’t sure whether she would understand, but she reached for the ignition. I heard the keys make a little jangle in the dark, as if asking, Now? Now?

    
    
I waited a few seconds, before I said, “Now!”

    
    
When she turned the ignition, the engine caught and roared to life. The headlights flickered dim and then bright. The alien was right in front of the four by four. It was standing on its back legs, leaning forward somewhat. It was not five feet long, but at least seven, its large triangular head looming forward. Its eyes were large and dark and it was impossible to tell whether they were focusing on anything. Its mouth looked like black pincers, opening and closing menacingly, like some medieval instrument of torture. It just stood there, in the beams of the headlights, and didn’t move. It might have been startled by the lights-- it was impossible to tell.

    
    
Eliza didn’t scream, but released a long loud keen, as her hand fumbled with the gearshift. I put my hand on top of hers, and help her drop into drive. She quickly glanced at me, her eyes wild and questioning.

    
    
“Floor it!”

    
    
She did, and the four by four shot forward. We hit the alien with a loud sickening thump, and blue blood jetted from its mouth, behind the wicked-looking pincers, in a fine spray that speckled the windshield. It didn’t seem very hurt, though, just stunned. A heartbeat later, it took flight, emitting a loud clacking noise that could only be a warning signal to his-- her--its companions.

    
    
“Crap!” I yelled. I shoved my door open, and jumped out. I pulled up the shotgun and aimed it toward the creature, just as it vanished into the darkness near the rafters of the high ceiling. I squeezed the trigger, firing a shot into the dark, trying to guess where it might be. The shotgun roared incredibly loud, coughing a flash of fire from its barrels. I didn’t know whether I was very lucky or it was hard to miss your target with such a weapon, but the panicky clacking stopped and then was a loud crash as somewhere in the darkness the alien crashed into a display. I imagined it as an old World War 2 airplane, an engine afire and trailing smoke, angling down to its smoky doom upon the earth.

    
    
I jumped back into the four by four, and slammed the door shut.

    
    
“Get out of here,” I told Eliza.

    
    
All of a sudden, Eliza turned from a very good driver into the worse driver the planet had ever known. She must have clipped, sideswiped and crashed into about twenty displays before she made it out of the retail area and into the back room. She didn’t even slow down as she flew through the back door and out into the dark swirling snow that was still falling, although letting up some. She turned on the windshield wipers, and the blue blood blended with the black snow before it was all washed away.

    
    
We were flying down the street so fast that even though the four-wheel drive was engaged, the four by four kept slipping on the icy pavement, threatening to spin out.

    
    
“You think they’ll chase us?” Eliza asked.

    
    
“I’m pretty sure that clacking noise it made was a distress alarm, but there’s no telling if any others heard it,” I said.

    
    
“Because we’d be really easy to track, with our headlights being the only thing in the dark. We’d stand out like a sore thumb. And we can’t turn them off, no way-- we’d be running blind.”

    
    
I tried to calm myself, at least enough to reason things out. “I don’t think they’ll follow, even if they heard the alarm and knew what was happening.”

 
   
    
“You’re sure about that?”

    
    
“I wouldn’t make much sense for them to come after us. We’re only so much value in chemicals. They know we have a weapon, and can hurt them. There are just too many other things available for them to salvage-- steel, copper, tin, aluminum-- from the buildings, the streets, the cars, and a lot of other things that don’t shoot back. No, I’m pretty sure we’re safe. It just wouldn’t be worth their while to chase us down.”

    
    
“All right, good, that makes sense,” Eliza said, as if to herself, as if trying to calm herself down. “Geez, did you see the size of that thing? There’s never been a foot big enough to step on that sucker…. Geez, the gun was loud; my ears are still ringing. Am I talking too loud? Are you saying something? I’m not really hearing too well….Hello?”

    
    
“Yeah, I was just thinking.”

    
    
“Thank God, for a second, I thought I went deaf. So you think it’s safe?”

    
    
“Yeah, and the farther we get from the downtown area, the better. I hope we have everything we need, because there’s no way we can go back. They probably know we’re here now. They’ll be watching now.”

    
    
Feeling more secure, Eliza reduced speed. “It’s crazy,” she said, then, “I know we’re safe-- I really believe it-- but my heart is still beating so hard it feels like my ribs are going to crack.”

    
    
“Me, too. It’s the adrenalin,” I told her.

    
    
“Whatever it is, I’m feeling so pumped up. It’s not a bad feeling, though-- not at all.”

    
    
“No, it’s not,” I agreed.

    
    
There was a pause, and then we both, at the same moment, broke out in giddy laughter.

    
    
“All right, I’m laughing and I don’t even know why,” she said.

    
    
“Happy to be alive, maybe,” I suggested.

    
    
“Yeah, that’s it. I feel so alive. Maybe you always take it for granted, until you have a close call. I hope I never stop feeling this way,” she said, and paused thoughtfully before she asked again, “You sure we’re safe now.”

    
    
“Yeah, positive.”

    
    
She slowed down, then, and pulled over to the curb.

    
    
“What are you doing?” I asked, wondering whether something was wrong. Did we have a flat tire or run out of gas or what?

    
    
“Shut up,” she said. She said it in a forceful yet not unkind way.

    
    
She shut off the headlights and wipers, and slipped the gearshift into park. It was pitch dark in the car now, and the snow quickly began to blot out the window. I heard her pull down the long zipper of her snowsuit. Her hand searched in the dark to find mine. When she grabbed it, she pulled it toward her and laid it flat on her breastbone. “You feel that, Travis? Feels like my hearts going to break right out of my chest.” It was true; I felt the heavy thudding beneath my palm. She shoved my hand away. She stirred in the darkness as the motor idled and the heater hummed and warmed the windshield enough to melt the falling snow. I couldn’t see exactly what she was doing; I thought she was resettling into her seat, getting ready shift in gear and continue home. Then she lunged out of the driver’s seat at me. I was startled at first. The move seemed so abrupt and violent that I didn’t know what to think. She had her arm round my neck, as though trying to get me in a headlock, and our faces were pressed together. It took a moment for me to realize she was kissing me. She wasn’t kissing me on the mouth, though, but just under my eye, right aside my nose, as though she’d aimed and missed in the dark. When she corrected the mistake, and her lips found mine, she was relentless. It felt as though she was intent on setting a new record for the world’s longest kiss. Even as she climbed over the gearshift, so that she could straddle my legs and sit in my lap facing me, she wouldn’t take her lips off mine. I realized, then, that she had slipped out of her snowsuit and boots. She was just wearing her shorts and her feet were bare. My hand naturally came to rest on her thigh. Her skin felt hot, as if she was running a fever. When she finally pulled back some, I could hear her release a shuttering breath. Her hands slipped forward, and gently held my face.

    
    
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to be doing this now,” I told her.

    
    
“Oh, Travis, don’t think,” she murmured. “Please don’t think-- not now. In fact, don’t even talk.”

    
    
Her hand sneaked down, then, and unzipped my snowsuit. She reached inside and ran her hand across my chest. She pressed herself against me. I felt the warmth of her body, and her head dipped down to nuzzle my neck. She blew her warm, quivering breath in my ear, and tingles ran through my entire body. I was trying really hard not to think about things, about what a truly awful idea it was for us to be doing this right now. I found my reasoning beginning to drift away, like an abandoned beach ball going out on the tide. Even when I had some small grasp on better judgment, I couldn’t convince myself that what we were doing was entirely wrong. It all seemed so natural, so… fated-- that was it-- fated; it was all as though it was meant to be and could be no other way, as though it had already happened and was happening again and there was no way to stop it because fate had carved it all in stone…. Her head slipped down and she started to do something to my neck; I couldn’t tell whether she was kissing it, or licking it, or softly sucking it. She worked her way down and round to my throat, and it finally happened: I reached a point where I wasn’t thinking about a thing, nothing at all, not that the world was all messed up, nothing that there might be alien around looking to kill us, nothing. All there was, was us and how we felt, and everything else was a blur.