The Face of Earth (6 page)

Megg transferred the fluid from the bowl to one of the bottles. She smiled as she corked it, thinking that if she gave it to Agnar, he would live thousands of years longer than the thousands he was already living. She enjoyed having him in her universe. She set course to rendezvous with Agnar’s ship. It would be a century or so before the Earthlings would be able to leave their solar system. Their termination could wait.

By the time Megg caught up with Agnar, he had parked his starship on the far side of Earth’s moon. She put in a call to his ship, confused at his proximity to her project. His pilot answered.

“How can I help you?”

“I’m looking for Agnar. Where is he?”

“He’s down on the planet.”

“On Earth, you mean? Why?”

“He has some business there.”

Megg was shocked and amused. “With the Earthlings? What profit could there possibly be in that?”

The pilot shrugged. “You’ll have to ask him. I don’t discuss his business.”

Megg eyed the youthful pilot, recognizing him as the same man who flew with Agnar hundreds of years ago. The pilot stared back at her unflinchingly. She shrugged. If Agnar chose to share the elixir with his crew, that was his business.

“Very well,” Megg said. “Let him know to call me when he returns.”

The pilot nodded. “I will.”

Megg disconnected and steered her ship toward the surface of the moon, setting it down next to Agnar’s. She hoped the wait wouldn’t be long.

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Fearing pursuit after her terrifying alien encounter, Karina ran until her legs shook with the strain and she gasped for breath. She slowed her pace, breathing heavily. She tasted blood in the back of her throat as she sucked in each lungful of air. She kept glancing behind as she walked, searching the sky for UFOs and the forest for aliens. As daylight faded and none appeared, she relaxed enough to stop.

Karina lay out her sleeping bag in an indentation under a granite boulder. She felt more secure with solid rock over her head. She slept fitfully, unable to rest with the looming threat of abduction. When she awoke, she ate a hasty meal of beef jerky before continuing her trek down the mountain.

Her legs wobbled as she took her first steps. They ached from yesterday’s run and the extra weight of her pack. She ignored them, knowing they’d loosen up with exercise. She saw Hetch Hetchy Reservoir in the valley below and hurried down the trail toward it, anxious to reach her truck and leave the wilderness behind. She wanted to surround herself with people, to feel the safety of numbers.

Karina finally arrived at her truck and threw her backpack into the cab. Climbing in, she locked the doors and started the engine. The Dodge roared to life. She drove away from the reservoir toward civilization, merging with the weekend traffic. When she reached the freeway and was able to blend in with hundreds of other vehicles, she finally felt safe. She turned on the radio to take her mind off her near abduction.

“Of the four backpackers that set out on that fateful trip, only one returned,” the announcer stated. “John Miller claims to remember nothing and can give no explanation for the disappearance of his friends. Police are now using dogs to scour the area for clues to their whereabouts. While they haven’t found the missing campers, they have found the dead body of a man who appears to be in his fifties. They have a positive identification of the man but will not release his name pending notification of his next of kin.”

Karina’s foot came down hard on the accelerator at hearing this, and she had to quickly step on the brake to avoid hitting the car in front of her. The voice continued, “The police have reason to believe the man was murdered, and after finding his car and inspecting it for clues, have issued an arrest warrant for Karina McKay, whose DNA was found in the car.”

Karina’s heart skipped a beat and she felt a new fear drown out her fear of the aliens. She switched off the radio, thinking hard. She had been careful not to leave fingerprints, but she had forgotten that the military had taken a sample of her DNA at basic training, to identify her body should it be damaged beyond recognition anytime during her career. Somehow it didn’t surprise her that the government had kept it on file. She couldn’t go home now; the police were probably there waiting for her. She decided to go to Mexico. At least she was already headed in the right direction. She could be in Tijuana in eight hours. The decision helped calm her as she continued her way south.

Two hours from the border the gas light came on. Karina hit her palm against the steering wheel in frustration. “Shit!” She loved her old truck, but she hated the lousy gas mileage. She exited the freeway and pulled into a busy Chevron.

She took her wallet out of her pocket and opened it. No cash. She would have to use a credit card. She slid the card into the reader and prayed it would work. It did, and she inserted the nozzle into the tank and began pumping gas. She watched the numbers scrolling the cost and gallons and wished they would go faster. The nozzle finally clicked off and she pulled it out and screwed on the gas cap. Then she hurried into the convenience store. She really needed to pee.

There were several women waiting in line for the two stalls this restroom boasted. Karina tried to look bored as she waited her turn. When she finally got to the front of the line, she felt as if her bladder would burst. A minute later it was her turn, and she sighed in relief as she sat on the toilet. When she exited the stall, the bathroom was deserted. Karina found that odd, since there had been several women in line behind her. She had a bad feeling about this.

She went back into the booth and climbed up on the toilet in order to reach the tiny window near the ceiling. She looked out. There was nothing to see. No police cars, no officers. There were also no other people where it had been packed minutes before. Cars sat empty, their passengers hidden from sight. Karina got down off the toilet and pondered her options. There were none. She was effectively trapped.

She went to the sink and washed her hands, soaping them up well and then rinsing them in warm water. She let the water run over her hands while she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Coming to a decision, she turned off the water and dried her hands. She exited the restroom with her hands held high.

Several cops greeted her with drawn weapons. “Put your hands on your head and turn around,” one of them yelled. She complied. There was nothing else for her to do. She was read her rights and taken into custody.

Hands cuffed behind her back, she was led out of the convenience store to a police cruiser parked outside. One of the cops opened the back door and shoved her inside, his hand on her head. Slamming the door shut, he and his partner climbed into the front and started the car. As they pulled away, Karina could see the customers returning to their cars. She watched them grow smaller in the distance before turning and facing front.

The men drove her to the police station, where they roughly pulled her from the car and marched her into the building. They turned her over to a female officer, who thoroughly processed her before throwing her into a holding cell. The slamming of the metal door had the sound of finality to it. Karina slumped on the bench, leaning back against the concrete wall. Exhausted from her hike, the six hour drive, and the stress of her capture, she fell asleep sitting up. When she awoke hours later, her back was stiff and her legs sore.

Karina got up and stretched. She walked around the cell, swinging her arms. She felt a little better. Her stomach growled at her, demanding food. She ignored it, unable to comply. She rubbed at her fingertips where the ink hadn’t come off completely, and pulled at the waist of the scratchy jumpsuit they had forced her to wear. Well, she may not be free, but at least Fred wasn’t alive. Somehow that made her feel better.

A few minutes later two policemen entered her cell, cuffed her hands and feet and led her to their vehicle, for what she assumed was transport to a court or prison. At this point, she didn’t care which.

As they drove along, Karina stared out the window. People were living their lives; going to work, going to school, playing, fighting, loving. She wondered why being a part of that was so hard for her. She hadn’t felt like a whole person in a long time. She had hoped killing Fred would remedy that, but it hadn’t. She still felt disconnected.

The car slowed and turned into an alley, surprising Karina. Some tough-looking men were standing around, but when the cops got out of the car and glared at them, they found it prudent to be somewhere else. Pretty soon the alley was deserted. The driver turned and opened the back door, sliding in beside Karina. His partner did the same on the other side, squashing her between them. The driver pulled a pre-filled syringe from his pocket and grinned evilly at her.

Realizing this was not standard procedure, Karina began to struggle violently. The driver’s partner held her down while the driver pushed up her sleeve and inserted the needle into her shoulder, pushing the plunger down. His partner continued to hold her down until she went limp as the drug took effect. The two cops then let go of her, got back in the front of the car, and resumed driving.

Karina swam in and out of consciousness until they reached their destination. They pulled her from the car abruptly, making her head spin. She tried to walk, but her feet wouldn’t obey, since the chains to the cuffs on her feet made it difficult to walk even when sober. She tried to struggle, but even that seemed like a lot of effort. The cops half walked and half dragged her into a large metal building.

Karina stared around the foyer with bleary eyes. Something bothered her about this room. It wasn’t the man standing behind the built-in counter, or the man standing in front of it. It wasn’t even the two guards positioned at one of the two doors in the room. The bright lights reflected off painfully white walls, and there was no furniture in the room. She suddenly realized it was the lack of windows that made her skin crawl. Karina resumed her struggles, feeling an overwhelming desire to get out of the building. The two men at the counter stared at her, one angrily, the other curiously and a little sympathetically.

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Agnar watched as two policemen brought a woman into the foyer where he was waiting. She wore an ugly orange jumpsuit, and her hands were cuffed and chained to her feet. She appeared to have been drugged, as she was having trouble walking, and without the support of the two policemen accompanying her, would not have been able to stand. Still, she managed to struggle enough to make their job difficult. Agnar could see a fire in her eyes despite the dulling effect caused by the drugs. He turned to the man behind the counter. “Who is she?” he asked, pointing at the woman.

The man glowered at the sight of her, and practically spat her name out. “Karina McKay. She murdered one of our members. We’re going to use her to test the cryogenic pod we create from your blueprints.”

“Oh.” Agnar felt some sympathy for the woman, but only because he didn’t know if the blueprints would actually work. They weren’t his design; he had stolen them. But it was none of his business how they were used once they were out of his hands. He was just here to get paid.

“So, what kind of name is Agnar?” the man asked.

“Russian,” Agnar lied.

As the policemen led Karina past Agnar, she managed to trip one of them and wrest herself away from their grasp. She fell against Agnar, gripping his shirt and looking up at him with pleading eyes. His heart went out to her in that moment, but then the policemen recovered and pulled her back.

“Sorry, sir,” one of them murmured. They took her to the door where two guards waited. They exchanged her for a duffel bag, and when one of them opened it, Agnar could see it was full of cash. The policeman nodded at the guards, closed up the bag, and the two men left. Karina struggled harder now, but still ineffectually. The guards took her through the door and closed it behind them.

Agnar shrugged off the protective feeling evoked by the woman’s helplessness. He wasn’t here to be a hero, he was here to make some cash. Besides, all these people were beneath him. The other door in the foyer opened and a man exited, gesturing to Agnar.

“The chief will see you now.” Agnar followed the man into the room. Once inside, he was introduced to the chief. “This is our leader, Kevin White.” Then the man left, leaving Agnar alone with Kevin.