Fire in the Woods (21 page)

“But I’m confining you.”

“But in this case I want to be confined.” Like, forever.

I leaned up, and this time he took the bait. His lips brushed across my cheeks, and his tongue eagerly sought the parted space between my lips. The heat of his body shot through me, sending a ricochet down to my toes and back until I tilted my head with a sigh. His cheek came to mine, and I was sure to return the gesture, becoming surprisingly entranced as our chins touched.

“Wow,” I whispered. Warmth swirled around us—attraction transcending anything I'd experienced before.

David's eyes sparkled and saddened as he stepped back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

The pain in his eyes echoed what I already knew, and it slapped me back to reality. He wasn’t human. It didn’t matter how either one of us felt. It could never be.
I turned away in hopes of warding off embarrassing tears.

The rumbling of the tractor saved our awkward silence. I pushed through the stalks until the fields opened up before us. Dust billowed above an outcropping of trees.

“Come on. Whatever’s in season is where the tractor is.” I took David’s hand and led him out of the corn.

His fingers instantly squeezed around mine as he stepped back into the air.

“It’s okay,” I said.

I followed his eyes up the branch of the tree beside us.

“What is that?” he asked, pointing to a cascade of red fruits clinging to the tree branch.

“No way.” I reached up and grabbed the largest specimen, yanking hard to dislodge the stem from the tree. The half of the fruit shaded from the August sun still held a slightly green hue, and a white spotty dust shaded its skin. I rubbed it in my shirt until the skin shined. “This is how apples grow. It’s just like what we bought from the store.” I took a bite, and grimaced at the bitter taste. “Ugh. I guess they’re not ripe yet.”

“Can I try it?”

I nodded, and handed it to him. The fruit crunched in his mouth. He turned his nose, but took another sample despite the taste.

I took it from him before he could take a third bite. “This is not the best Jersey has to offer. Let’s go see what they’re picking over there.”

We moved through the trees and around a corner, coming out to the rear of a long, railed flatbed attached to a tractor.

A mother helped a few younger children down a rickety ladder beside the rear wheels. As others holding buckets sauntered away from the wagon.

“Come on,” I said.

I reached up and swiped a basket from the back corner of the flatbed. Walking as innocently as possible, I guided David beside me to join the group moving about the trees.

“If you keep to this side,” the driver said, “you will get the ripest fruit.”

The crowd split up. David and I joined them, moving into the field and ducking under low hanging branches. My heart throttled my chest as I did my best to blend in with the group.

“I thought we were trying to keep hidden,” David said.

“Don’t worry. Who’d think to look for an alien in an orchard?” I reached up, and plucked a plump fuzzy peach from a branch above my head. I held it to my nose, and breathed in its luscious scent. I bit into the fruit, and closed my eyes, allowing the sweet nectar to roll across my tongue. I handed it to David. “Here, try it.”

He turned the fruit over and pressed his thumb against the skin, releasing the juice. A smiled crossed his lips as he licked his finger. Taking a large bite, he closed his eyes and mmm’ed as he chewed. It took forever before he finally swallowed. “That’s the most unbelievable thing I’ve ever tasted.”

I smiled. “You should taste their strawberries. They are out of this world—well, in June they are—before the bugs get at them.”

His eyes shined brilliantly. “The trees bear fruit at different times?”

A smile graced my lips as I nodded. “Yeah. Strawberries come early, blueberries in July, and peaches at the end of the summer. It’s so we don’t get bored with our fruit. There’s tons of other stuff, too.”

The tractor geared up and drove down the path, leaving the customers to play farmer to their heart’s content.

“Didn’t he forget the people?” David asked.

“No, silly. He’ll come back to get them later. I guided him further into the orchard, away from the other patrons. I picked another peach, and placed it into the bucket.

“Can I try?” David asked.

“Sure. Reach up and pull one off.”

David laughed when the stem popped off the tree, allowing the peach to fall into his hand. “Is this where all your food comes from?”

“What, you mean, from trees? Well, some of it. Other things grow on bushes and stuff, or in gardens like the buggy strawberry before. Why? Where does yours come from?”

David shrugged. “It comes from the people who deliver it. I know they grow it in special places on the ship, but we’re not allowed to go there.” He grasped another fuzzy orb. “This is incredible.” He rubbed the surface of the peach, his eyes seemed to study each hair on the skin.

A warm sensation settled into my chest. “It must be so cool, experiencing all this stuff for the first time.”

He brought the peach to his nose, closing his eyes as he inhaled the scent. “You have so much. You have no idea.”

“Yeah. I guess it’s cool. I never really thought about it. It’s just always been here, ya know?”

“No. I don’t know. I’ve never had a planet to call home.”

I sucked in the side of my cheek. Guilt panged beneath my ribs. For what? Having a planet to live on? “I guess it’s hard, being out there, huh?”

“No. Honestly, I never even thought about it. I didn’t know there could be anything else.” His gaze centered far away. “Now I understand.”

I snatched a few more peaches from the tree, and placed them in our bucket. David lifted the handle, and we made our way back to the group. Our quarter bushel paled in size to the overflowing buckets lining the trail, waiting for the driver to return.

“Let’s try picking over there,” I said, much louder than necessary.

I motioned David to follow. We dashed into the next set of trees, re-entering the woods. I stopped on the edge of the forest and looked back. My chest stung, strangling my heart as my gaze fell over our bucket of peaches.

“What’s wrong?” David asked.

“I just stole. I never stole anything before.”

“What does that mean?”

“There’s no word for stealing in your language either?”

“I guess not.”

Hmm. Part of me started to think his world seemed like a pretty cool place. “Stealing is when you take something that doesn’t belong to you. It’s wrong.”

“Can you un-steal?”

I fingered the credit card in my pocket. I could go back and pay for the peaches. An itchy feeling in my stomach told me not to. I turned my face up to the sky. “I’ll pay for it when I get back, okay? I swear.” The sun poked out of a cloud, and shone through the treetops, warming my cheeks. “I’ll pay for it. I promise,” I whispered, wiping a tear from my eye.

“Who are you talking to? Are you sad again?”

“No,” I said, breaking out the compass. “I just miss my mom sometimes.”

He wiped my cheek clean with his thumb. “Me too.”

I sank my teeth into a peach as we walked deeper into the woods. “So your Mom really is dead?” I asked.

“Yes. Why would I lie about something like that?”

“I don’t know. To gain my trust?”

“I’ve never lied to you, Jess.”

“You didn’t tell me you were an alien.”

“You didn’t ask.”

He had me there. Note to self: Next time you meet a cute guy in the woods, check to make sure he’s not an alien.

“So, your dad really is ticked off at you?”

“Now that I crashed a plane and ended up lost on an alien planet, I’m sure he is.” David slowed his pace. “I was an embarrassment before. I can't even imagine what he's thinking now.”

“What happened between you two, anyway?”

“I had this crazy theory.” The muscles in his cheek twitched. “At least everyone else thought it was crazy. I spent three years formulating it, and testing the hypotheses. I know it would have worked.”

“What was the theory?”

“Do you know what terraforming is?”

“Like in Star Trek? Making a livable planet out of a dead one by flipping on the Genesis Project or something like that?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a way to do this on your world?”

“Ah—no. It’s from a movie.”

His gaze lowered to the bucket of peaches. His eyes seemed to linger on each piece of fruit, as if memorizing the imperfections on the skins. “My theory was a dead planet could be revived if it once held life. If I could tap into a natural water table, if it still existed…that I could bring the water back to the surface.”

“They didn’t like your idea?”

“That’s an understatement. They laughed at me. They said even if it were possible, it would take too long.” He shook his head. “I don’t agree. I know I could do it.”

“So, I guess your dad didn’t stick up for you, huh? That sucks.”

“He was ashamed. His rejection hurt me, you know, here.” He touched his breastbone.

I lowered my gaze. “We call that a broken heart.”

He nodded. “Yes. I felt broken.”

For several moments we listened to the chirping of birds and the sounds of the wind blowing through the trees. I thought about Dad, and how he didn’t think I could make it as a photographer. He didn’t believe in me as much as I believed in myself. It wasn’t far off from David’s relationship with his own father.

I moved closer to him. “I was wondering why you were piloting a ship if you’re some kind of smart scientist-like-person.”

“Losing my father’s favor killed me inside. I would have done anything to get it back. So I joined the military and studied to be a pilot.” David rubbed his eyes with his fingertips. “He was so proud. He was there at my inaugural flight. He smiled and waved as I took off.”

“And what happened?”

“I never returned. I crashed on my first mission, and here I am.” He quickened his pace. “When I get to the extraction point, I’m going home in shame. My father will probably never talk to me again.”

A pang of emotion balled up in my chest. After all that had happened over the last few days, would my own father react the same way? Would he disown me for helping David and never speak to me again?

“I’m sure that’s not true. He’s your dad. He has to love you, right?”

David stopped and set the bushel of peaches on the ground. Fire touched his eyes. “You don’t get it, do you? I’m going home to be ridiculed and loathed for the rest of my life. I’ve had two chances. I won’t get more. I’m done.”

I stepped back, surprised by his tone. “You could stay here.”

He huffed. “Yeah, what a great life I’ll have here.” He spun toward me, his eyes darkened. “They are hunting me right now. What do you think they’ll do if they catch me?”

I sucked both of my lips into my mouth. Dozens of movies came to mind—dead Martians floating in liquid ooze, alien experiments, and torture among other uncomfortable scenarios. “You’re right. You can’t stay here. I’m sorry.”

I looked down, and he gently lifted my chin. “Jess, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been like that with you. I’m tired, and I have to admit, I’m scared. We’re not even sure how close we are to the pick-up location, and I’m running out of time.”

“All right. Let’s see.” I pulled out my phone, surprised to see it still lit up.

Smooth move, Jess. The navigator was still on, so the phone didn’t automatically power off. The phone had been on the entire time in my pocket. Battery power: five percent. Wasn’t that just great.

“We have about ten miles to go. We’re still on the right track, but I don’t have much power left.”

A text message popped up.

Maggie: I hope U don’t read this. Don’t use UR cell phone. They can trace it. They R waiting for U 2 turn it on.

The words scorched my eyes, slowly sinking in. My cell phone had been running, with the navigator on no less, for at least an hour. David would be lucky if he didn’t have a bullet in his back by nightfall.

“Oh my God!”

“What?” David checked over both shoulders.

I shut off my phone, turned in the opposite direction and threw it with all my might.

“What are you doing?”

“We have to go.”

I handed two peaches to David, took two for myself, and left the bucket.

“What about the rest of them?” David asked, slipping the fruits into the pocket of his sweatshirt.

“Forget the peaches. They know where we are. We need to run.”

I tugged his elbow and bolted into a sprint, hopping over brush and fallen trees, doing my best to stay focused on one direction. My chest stung with each breath, but I concentrated on keeping my respiration steady. We’d come too far to get caught because the stupid little human girl needed to rest.

The sound of barking ping-ponged through the trees. We both skidded to a stop.

“It’s probably dogs fighting,” I said.

“Are you sure?”

“Umm…yeah.” The crinkle in his brow told me I had a lousy poker face. I choked back the pain filling the base of my throat. We’d come so far, and I’d screwed it all up with my dumb phone.

David centered his eyes on me, and ran his palm across my cheek. His touch reached through my skin, injecting courage where mine had faltered. Strong hands settled on my waist, and he lifted me at the hips and into his arms. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and crossed my ankles around his back. Not very lady-like, but I was beyond caring about appearances.

“Okay,” I said, tightening my grip. “I’m ready.”

David broke into a sprint. My hair flew behind us like a banner as he increased speed. The trees blurred together, and my stomach flopped. I closed my eyes, clinging to him for dear life—not mine—his.

The barking dogs advanced, their cries encircling us from several angles. Was it just an echo, or were they closing us into a trap?

David slowed, his heartbeat quickened beneath my grip. Sweat dripped down my sides.

“Jess?”

I shivered, slipping to the ground. There was no denying it anymore. The dogs were getting closer. “I hear them.”