Runner's Moon: Yarrolam (9 page)

            She remained quiet but observant. After a while, she stared down at her hands.

            “You risked your life to save mine. Again.” It was a simple statement, as if she needed to hear herself say it to make it true. Her next remark surprised him. “Why?”

            “Because…I had to.”

            “You had to? Why?”

            “Cherron…”

            “Liam, what
are
you?”

            He took a deep breath and kept his gaze straight ahead. “The whole truth?”

            “Yes. The honest to God truth.”

            “I’m an alien.”

            He counted off three seconds of silence before she replied. “I know, but—”

            “I’m an alien from another world. Another planet called Barandat Vor. My people were kidnapped and enslaved by another race called the Arra. They took us as slaves and used us. Most of us were sold. Some of us they ate. They did that for years, until there were only a few of us left. It was a miracle we managed to overtake our captors and escape on a lifeboat. We wandered through space, looking for a new home. We eventually landed on this world.”

            She was staring at him. He waited, tense with expectation. Wondering how much she’d believe him, and how long before she exploded. He didn’t have to wait long, and her response wasn’t what he expected.

            “Why?”

            The air inside the SUV was thick with the scent of lemonade and apples, and the sharp hint of oranges. He allowed himself to hope.

            “Why what?”
Why did I rescue you? Why am I risking exposure to help you?

           
“Why did they kidnap you?”

            At first, his head and heart spun with certainty. Not only did she believe him, albeit guardedly, but she wanted to know more. He couldn’t tell if she still held any reservations, but at least she hadn’t completely dismissed his comments as nonsense. Not yet. She needed more time to think. But for now…

            “That’s what the Arra do. They’re slave traders. They deal in merchandise the inhabitants of other worlds want to own. My race, the Ruinos, are strong and powerful. We can do labor that would kill other life forms.”

            “And they
ate
you?”

            He nodded once. “Mostly the old and infirmed. The ones who were no longer strong or healthy enough to work were sold as food. The Arra ate us, too.”

            A light coming up from behind him caught his attention in the rearview mirror. Yarrolam checked his speed to make sure they remained under the limit.

            “Tell me about what you did back there to make yourself look like them.”

            “I can’t explain how. It’s what we can do. It’s what also made us a very valuable commodity to the Arra. We can shift our outward appearance to look like the indigenous species on any planet. At least, most of them. There are some lifeforms out there we can’t imitate, but those are few.”

            “So…what do you look like…normally?” Her voice shook.

            This time he finally chanced a glance over at where she sat, her back pressed against the door. As he scrutinized her, she moved further away from him. Her heartrate remained fast-paced, and the scent of her fear filled the cab. She wasn’t as terrified of him as she was wary. And worried. And apprehensive. As an afterthought, he hit the door lock on his side to make sure she wouldn’t fall out, even though she had her seatbelt on. Cherron realized what he’d done, her eyes widening in surprise.

            “Will you show me?” she continued.

            “Soon,” he promised. “But first…”

            They’d reached the outskirts of the city. He pulled into the drive-through of a Bungo Burger. Holding up a hand in a mute appeal for silence, he changed back into the thin, dark-haired man who had been one of their captors, then pulled up to the speaker to order for them. Driving up to the pickup window, he withdrew a wallet from his pocket and gave the cashier a twenty. Once they had their order, he got back on the street and continued north.

            “Eat up.”

            “How about you?” she asked, already unwrapping her burger. “Oh, God, I’m so hungry!”

            “I’ll eat once we hit the highway. But we’re not finished here.”

            “Oh?”

            He checked the navigation screen. “There’s another WonderMart a few blocks from here. I’m going in to grab us a few things. You’re staying in the car.”

            “Why?”

            “Because the police are already looking for us and our captors. What size do you wear?”

            “Size eight pants, medium tops, size seven shoe.”

            “Anything else you’re going to need?” he questioned.

            Cherron shook her head. “I can manage. Liam, you looking like that is freaking me out.”

            “I know, but I need to keep this disguise until after we leave the store. That way the police will have this man’s identity on video.”

            “Do you have enough money to pay for everything?”

            Yarrolam grinned. “I got the guy’s wallet with his ID and credit cards. He’s going to foot the bill for us.”

            Cherron snorted. “I haven’t done this much shopping since Christmas,” she remarked jokingly. He had to chuckle.

            When they reached the store, he parked away from the lights. “Stay in the back seat and don’t open the doors if anyone comes knocking,” he instructed. While she climbed into the back, he quickly hurried into the building to buy them a couple of changes of clothing and a small suitcase. The clerk at the checkout counter didn’t give him a second look when he swiped Mr. Brad Lee Brodie’s credit card and signed for the items. Swinging the bags over his shoulder, he hurried back to the SUV, opening the rear of the vehicle to toss their things inside. When he unlocked the driver’s side door, Cherron returned to the front seat.

            “Any trouble?” he asked.

            “Nope. Now what?”

            “Now we ditch this car and get us another one.”

            “Where are we going to find us another car this time of night?”

            “You’ll see,” he told her.

            They meandered through the streets, finally reaching an apartment complex without a gated entry. Yarrolam pulled up near the dumpster, next to the street, and parked. “Stay here. I won’t be long.”

            She watched him in the side view mirror as he walked a little ways from the vehicle and pulled out the cell phone to make a call. When he was finished, he opened up the back.

            “Here. Catch.” He tossed her the keys, which she caught with both hands. “Put them in the ignition.”

            “Seriously?”

            “And this,” he added. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a billfold. After extracting the bills, he threw her the wallet. “Put it in the glove box.”

            She glanced at the driver’s license. It belonged to the dark-haired man. Quickly, she placed the billfold in the box.

            “Hurry, Cherron. Don’t lock the doors.” He grabbed the suitcase, opening it and stuffing the bags inside before zipping it back up.

            “But what if someone steals the car?” she argued as she exited the vehicle and joined him.

He closed the back and grinned at her. “Let’s hope.” Taking her hand, he led her to the street.

            “Okay. Now what?”

            “First, this. Hold on.”

            She watched in wide-eyed wonder as he changed his appearance again. This time, into a shorter, lanky redhead. She remained quiet as he waved down the cab, which pulled up next to the curb. As the driver dumped their suitcase into the trunk, Yarrolam opened the rear door and helped Cherron inside.

            “Bus terminal, right?” the driver said, climbing under the steering wheel.

            “Right,” Yarrolam told him.

            Cherron laced her fingers through his and placed his hand in her lap, where it remained all the way to the station.

Chapter 13

Terminal

            Once inside the bus terminal, Cherron headed straight for the ladies restroom. When she emerged from the stall, she glanced at herself in the mirror and winced. A woman washing her hands next to her gave her a quizzical glance.

            “Honey, are you okay?”

            “Yeah.” Cherron managed a weak smile. “I am now.”

            “Can I get you something?” The woman’s honest concern warmed her, but Cherron waved her off.

            “No, I’ll be okay. A very good friend just helped me escape from a dangerous situation,” she said, hoping the woman would think it was a domestic issue. At least it would explain her current state. She was grungy and dirty. She’d soiled herself, thanks to those heartless bastards. She knew she must smell atrocious. It would take an hour under a hot shower to clean the crap from her body and soul.

            A shudder went through her. Pressing the palms of her hands on the sink, she closed her eyes. The realization of what she was doing, of what she’d recently gone through, was a thick cloud of adrenaline-infused anger.

            She heard the door close behind her, leaving her the sole occupant. Grabbing a paper towel, she added a little soap and water to it, and tried to scrub off most of the grime from her face and hands. Once done, she pulled the elastic band from her hair, ran her fingers through the sweat-soaked mess, and re-tied it at the nape of her neck. She had no brush, no makeup, and no purse. Her credit cards, driver’s license, cell phone, money—everything was gone.

           
But I have Liam.

            She gazed at herself in the mirror, meeting herself eye to eye. “What are you doing, Cherron Nicole Greene? You’re getting ready to board a bus with a man… No, with an alien from outer space. Why aren’t you running to the cops, girl? Why are you hanging around with something that only exists in science fiction movies?”

            She took a deep breath, and the act reminded her of Liam’s unique scent. She knew why she was sticking by him. “It’s because…he’s strong. And he cares for you. And, somehow, you know he’ll give his life protecting you. He has done everything he can on this world to make sure you’re safe, and fed, and out of those idiots’ clutches. Aaron… Aaron… If I ever get my hands on you again…”

            She heard a terminal announcement announcing a bus boarding. Not knowing where Liam intended for them to go, she drank some tap water, then exited the restroom.

            He was easy to spot, with his flaming carrot-top, and the fact that he was sitting in the first row of seats facing the ladies’ room. The nearly-empty container of salad he’d gotten from the burger joint sat in his lap. He grinned when she came into view and patted the chair next to him. Cherron dropped into the seat with a groan.

            “You look fresher,” he remarked, placing the container in the seat on the other side of him.

            She folded her legs to the side, using the arm rest to tuck them next to her, and laid her head on his shoulder. She caught a whiff of freshly-baked cinnamon rolls, and her insides uncurled. There was something very calming about being around Liam. It was as if he was surrounded by a giant web of comfort, and the closer she got to him, the more relaxed she felt. He was safe and safety.

            “Where are we going?”

            “Tonight? Just to Mobile.”

            “Alabama?”

            “We’ll catch the next leg of our trip tomorrow. Up to Charlotte. From there, I plan for us to go to Baltimore, then the day after, up to Boston. And from Boston to Tumbril Harbor, where friends will pick us up.”

            “You plan? You didn’t buy the tickets yet?”

            “I thought we needed to be as unobservant as possible. When we reach one stop, we’ll disembark. Then I’ll change identities and buy us tickets for the next stop.”

            She lifted her head to stare at him. “Sounds like we’re heading for the east coast. To where, finally?”

            “It’s a small coastal town in Maine called Tumbril Harbor.”

            “You mentioned it back at the diner, didn’t you? I’ve never heard of it.”

            “Few people have. They’re not exactly a tourist haven. Their main source of income is a logging mill.”

            “I take it that’s where some of your people are located?”

            “Yeah. Thom, the man who called me, he’s a deputy sheriff there. He’s married to Tiron. She’s Ruinos. She works for the forestry service. Jebaral is Ruinos. He and his wife Hannah live there, too. He works at the mill, and she’s a waitress at the local diner. Challa and her mate, Compton, live just a couple of hours away. They’re going up to join the others and wait for us.” He gave her an apologetic look. “It’ll take us a few days to get there. Hope you don’t mind traveling, but I figure whoever is looking for us expects us to take the fastest method of transportation to get out of town.”

            “I don’t mind as long as you’re with me,” she admitted, surprising herself with the admission. But it was true. As long as he remained by her side, she’d go anywhere with him.

            “What about your family?” Liam asked. “Won’t they get worried when they don’t hear from you? Or when you don’t come back home? Cherron…” He turned around in his seat and grasped her hand she’d rested on his arm. His touch was warm, his fingers firm. She would swear she could feel her tension and worry melting away at his touch.

            “Cherron, if at any time you decide you want to go home, just tell me. I’ll pay for your bus ticket, and give you a little extra to help with food and such.” He slowly shook his head. “I’m sorry I can’t put you on a plane, but I’m afraid whoever is behind this mess might have eyes at the airport. I may be able to change my identity, but not you. Not unless you want to color your hair or something.”

            She snorted and gave him a weary smile. “Wouldn’t matter, anyway. I don’t have an ID to get me through screening. Besides, I don’t have any family. My dad died overseas. He was in the military. Mom died a few years ago from a stroke. I have a sister, but she and I have been on the outs for years. She lives over in Washington state. The last time I saw her was at Mom’s funeral. We don’t communicate. Hell, we don’t even trade Christmas cards. I doubt if she even knows where I live, or what I do for a living.”