Decay Page 7

  “Yes, you are. Maybe I should divide you up. Keep some of you here, and bring some of you along.”

  “Split them up, you mean,” Orlando said. “Force some space on them?”

  “Precisely.” Alan nodded.

  Angela let out a quiet whistle. “Maybe. JD won't like being left behind.”

  Alan stood up and smoothed his pants. “I know. Cadence still has a lot she can work on. I will keep her tasked with the drug, we will postpone the plans to capture Bean and Sprout, and the rest of you can aid on the field task. I'll rework my plan. This should not have happened. It's unprofessional to date your comrades.”

  I was hoping you wouldn't say that, Angela thought and looked down at her hands. Her fate with Orlando was sealed right then and there. The guy may have had a rebellious side, but she doubted he'd seek her out for a date with Alan watching, and the alien would be watching to make sure nothing else got in the way of his precious mission.

  “We done?” Orlando asked in a soft voice, which wasn't like him at all. She would have given anything to be able to read his mind.

  “Yes, we're done. I need to go back to my ship, set a specific schedule, and get the materials you'll need to convince your parents to let you go. Among other things. I'll be in touch.” And without so much as a 'goodbye', Alan teleported out of the room.

  Orlando stared, blinking a few times, before facing her. “Still on for dinner? Or do you conveniently have plans?”

  She laughed. “The only plan I have is to get out of here because I don't want to be around for the aftermath of whatever is going on with them.” She pointed up at the ceiling, indicating JD and Cadence's fight. They were still yelling at each other, and chances were it was going to get ugly fast. JD was brutal when he got angry, and later he'd be sulking about the whole thing for days to come.

  “Exactly what I was thinking, and hopefully they remember that The Apartment is rated G.” Orlando glanced up and then shook his head. Angela smacked him firmly on the arm. “Ow, what was that for?”

  “You know,” she stated and then walked out of the room. She headed down the stairs, ready to leave and eat away her feelings.

  Half an hour later she was doing just that at a restaurant in uptown. Not the location she would have expected, but it was good to get away from her home town. Orlando probably didn't want to be seen with her in a place where people he might know would notice. Plus, the spot he had picked out had all of the things she was craving, pancakes, hash browns, and pie.

  She was in the process of devouring a pancake covered in syrup as she looked around the cute little building. “You know, I thought all of the places in uptown were, like, hip and trendy.”

  “Most are,” he said as he took a bite out of a burger. Just watching him eat it, made her stomach turn a little. She was a vegetarian. Meat in general always made her a little queasy. Something about the smell and the texture set her off, so she cut it out altogether, outside of the occasional sushi or shrimp scampi. For whatever reason, she was more sensitive to him eating the burger than usual. The last time she'd watched him eat meat hadn't bothered her in the slightest.

  Focus on something else. She did her best to stop watching. Unfortunately, he was too hot to take her eyes off of him. Even when he chewed, the way his mouth moved was delicious in its own way. Pathetic! Stop! It's not going to happen! Find something to say, quick!

  “But not this one, huh?” she said. “How did you know about it?”

  He took a sip from his water glass. “Family brunch was usually done here. It used to be more popular back then, before the area remodeled into a hipster bar scene. I figured we'd gone to the local joint so many times maybe we could try something new. Plus there's an art fair starting tonight. It runs through the weekend, and since I apparently have plans tomorrow and homework for Sunday, tonight will be the only chance I get to check it out.”

  “And you assumed I wouldn't mind coming with you.”

  “Was I correct?”

  “Yeah, but …”

  “But?” He raised an eyebrow.

  She shrugged. “Assuming can be dangerous.”

  “I like danger. It keeps me on my toes.”

  “Is that why you want to kidnap Sprout?” she asked quietly. Her appetite was starting to leave her for other reasons now, like the idea of him and Tait getting close again.

  Orlando rolled his eyes, his trademark move, and worked on eating his French fries. “Alan asked me what I thought about going on a bigger mission should the opportunity arose. He wanted to know if I felt we were ready for some reason. Probably just to make sure I wouldn't bolt again if things got tough. Anyway, I told him it seemed like a logical idea to mention to the boss-man. Hello? Who better to question than the leader of the henchmen? I didn't think he'd take it seriously. I certainly never said I wanted to do it just that it's a missed opportunity. Yeah, it's going to be dangerous, but that's not why I think it's a good idea. I'm not that bored.”

  “Or bitter?”

  “Or that,” he mumbled.

  Angela put her fork down and sighed. “You're right. As much as I don't want to admit this, it does make sense. I'm not sure what makes this artifact more important than getting answers, but we'll find out, huh? I just hope JD and Cadence can figure out whatever is going on between them.”

  “Same, though if you hadn't stopped it, he probably would have dug himself a hole to China at the rate he was going. And can we just say TMI? My poor virgin ears will never recover,” Orlando said. His voice was laced with the usual sarcasm, like he was trying to make light of the situation and add a little humor. Of all the things he said, the one part that stuck out the most was “virgin”. It actually made her heart skip a beat to know that he hadn't succumbed to all of Tait's charms, and that there were guys out there who didn't screw around.

  She forced out a laugh, not wanting her worry to show. “JD is the king of TMI unfortunately.”

  “Cadence is the one who mentioned it,” he pointed out. When the bill came, he pulled out some cash from his wallet, too much for their order, and put it in the leather folder. “Ready to walk it off?”

  With a nod, Angela stood from her chair. Her mind was slowly beginning to relax, but Orlando's laid back attitude usually had that effect on her. If he's on the mission, it'll be fine. Everything will be fine. We worked well together before, so I don't see why the future would be any different. Getting in on more of the action was exciting for her. She wanted to do more than just sit by and watch, while everyone else contributed. Training didn't qualify as being useful, productive maybe, but it didn't add much to the cause.

  They walked in the cold January air down the streets of uptown. She had to resist the urge to move in closer to him. It would have been such a wonderful and natural thing for her to do. Their friendship was special. If she had been with anyone else, she wouldn't hesitate in the slightest to touch him. Orlando didn't come off as a touchy feely kind of guy. The two had hugged once or twice in the couple of months she'd known him. He didn't give JD high fives or any other normal guy gestures of affection either. Angela's bond with Orlando was emotional and deep. She couldn't spoil it by putting him on edge from one misunderstood action. If she did, then he might close himself off again.

  So she kept her hands in her pockets, and at least six inches of space between them. That seemed like an appropriate distance. It was close enough where they didn't feel like strangers, but not so much he'd think she was putting the moves on him. Even if she did decide to act on her crush on him, she didn't want to be one of those girls who flung themselves onto a guy. It was probably why she'd never had a boyfriend, but she had more self-respect than that.

  Orlando led her inside a nearby mall full of high end shops, and littered through the hallways were tables of local artist's work. Most displayed paintings, but there were some who did sculptures or other kinds of arts and crafts. One woman had crocheted purses, and another had Ukrainian dyed eggs. Orlando paused a moment to buy a
number of homemade suckers before heading over to a table with some elaborate paintings. One in particular seemed to catch his interest, a picture of a galaxy in the shape of a horse head. The stars lit up in the background with the way the light hit the paint.

  “This is interesting,” he said as he studied the picture.

  Angela nodded, staying silent for a moment so she could focus on the image. “It puts a lot of things into perspective.”

  He nodded as well. “I used to have an actual photograph of it up in my room a few years ago. It's a real galaxy out there. This depiction makes the horse more defined, like it's a real, living, and breathing creature. I like the creative liberties taken on it.”

  “You've got a little art critic in you,” she teased.

  “Hardly. I just know what I like and what I don't. I know absolutely nothing about technique or whatever else they judge a painting on,” he said and picked up a small painting of a sea dragon with silver foil scales.

  Angela couldn't help but smirk. “You've got a secret nerd side huh?”

  “It's not a secret. I'm not hiding it, nor am I broadcasting it.”

  “Why not? It's sweet.”

  “Me and sweet don't go together.”

  “Sure you do. You're like a sour gummy. Once you get past the outer layers, you're soft and squishy.” She nudged him in the side.

  Orlando gave her a sideways glance. “Are you saying you want to lick me?”

  “No!” She could feel her cheeks growing warm, however. “How do you get licking from that anyway?”

  “These are nice dream catchers,” Orlando said and moved to a new table.

  He was impossible to read. She followed him and admired the intricately woven dream catchers. Many had beads, charms, and feathers attached, and all of them were at least a foot in diameter.

  “Nightmares?” she asked, but his attention seemed to be elsewhere. His gaze was on something further down the hall, and his brow furrowed deeply.

  “Dallas...?” he whispered.

  She frowned in confusion. “Huh?”

  “Nothing,” he said and shook his head quickly. “Thought I saw someone I knew.” He paused and stepped away from the dream catcher table. “Anyway, I don't have nightmares. I don't tend to dream often.”

  Angela sensed he was lying, but didn't dare challenge him. Clearly, it wasn't her business, otherwise he would have elaborated. As she watched him move to the next artist's table, she couldn't help but be concerned for him. His skin was more pale than usual, and he held his coat around him tightly, walking quickly instead of his usual relaxed, casual, swagger. Whatever it was he thought he saw must have been upsetting.

  Chapter Eight

  Nia walked with Dallas to her car. Their night out was coming to a close, and she kind of didn't want it to end because she enjoyed his company, but also because she didn't want to go back home. Friday night meant bingo night for her mother, which in turn meant a lot of drinking, and a lot of drinking resulted in Nia having a long night. Even if it was freezing, she'd rather spend the night in Dallas's mausoleum then go back home. She doubted either of her parents would notice her absence.

  “How was your first night back on the town?” she asked as they walked, trying to fill the silence as they made their way through uptown.

  Dallas gave her a smile. “Glad to know I pass off as normal. The hat helps of course, and so did the air freshening spray.”

  She shrugged innocently. “What can I say? I think of everything. Not like we were inside all that much, but not the point. Feeling strong still? No weak ankles or anything?”

  “They're holding up okay as far as I can tell. Hard to say since I still can't feel much of anything, let alone pain. Whatever you've been doing to me has been working. I feel a little stronger every day.”

  “Excellent,” she said and admired her work.

  He was indeed beginning to look more like a normal human being every day. Muscles that were once small from atrophy and decay were now visible. Yes, he still appeared to be skinnier than a normal guy his age, but he no longer looked as if he was starving either. His skin was still a little off color, but make-up easily fixed that, along with gloves, a scarf, and a hat to hide his still patchy hair-do. No matter how many times she cut it, Nia couldn't get it to cooperate with her. It would probably continue to fall out until his transformation from dead to living was complete.

  Over all, he passed the test. She even saw some younger teenaged girls checking him out while they were inside the mall.

  While Dallas may have been her age, technically, he had died at fifteen, and had yet to go through puberty. Nia couldn't wait to see how he would change once his body started to grow again. No doubt he'd be delicious. She'd always had a thing for brunettes with gentle, soulful, dark eyes. His legs were slightly longer than the rest of his torso, so that meant he was going to be tall too. She loved tall guys.

  They got into her car, and Nia was grateful to be out of the cold. The middle of January was always freezing. He may not have noticed, but she could barely feel her toes. Nia was about to start the car so she could get some heat running, when she noticed a small group of individuals in the back corner of the parking ramp. Normally, she didn't care too much about what other people did. She preferred her business to stay private, so she gave other people the same respect. But this particular group of people all wore black masks, and that immediately got her attention.

  “What are they doing?” she asked and leaned forward to see if she could get a better view. The parking ramp wasn't well lit in that corner unfortunately, so she couldn't get a good picture. She thought she saw someone sitting on the floor. “Are they surrounding that guy?”

  Dallas's eyes narrowed. “I think so. Pretty sure that's a girl though, not a guy. And she looks hurt, scared even.”

  “Are they robbing her?” Nia was disgusted. The group of people could have been some kind of obscure gang, completely unrelated to the war being waged on Earth in Altura's name. The way their masks obscured their identities, made her think otherwise. If they had masks, that also meant they had powers, and it was a gift they were abusing.

  A small growl escaped her lips, and she was about to grab her own mask and give them a piece of her mind, when Dallas grabbed her hand firmly. He shook his head. She wanted to protest, but she knew he was right. Watch for the time being, and live to fight another day. She cracked her window, so she could better hear what the group was saying.

  “I gave you all of my money,” the young woman from the ground said with a sniffle. “What more do you want from me?” She was dressed in the classic little black dress, her once styled hair now disheveled. She'd most likely come to uptown for a fun night with the girls.

  One member of the group grabbed her by the arm and forced her to stand. This one was clearly a guy; that much Nia could make out. A tall, lean guy, at that.

  “You're going to be our first example,” the guy said. “Don't worry, it's not like we're going to kill you or anything. We're just going to have a little fun and then send you on your way, so you can tell the police what happened. And when you do, you make sure to tell them everything so they know who's in charge from now on. Do you understand?”

  She nodded and whimpered. “Please don't hurt me. I'll do whatever you want.”

  “Unfortunately, you might have to get hurt a little bit,” the guy said. Another member of the group, a teenage girl, produced a glowing knife about five inches long in her hand. It appeared to be made of light, and under other circumstances, Nia might have thought it was beautiful.

  The girl with the light moved closer to her victim and used the knife to cut away part of the young woman's dress. Was the monster of a girl trying to humiliate the poor woman? Nia's hands clenched around the steering wheel. Quickly she threw on her mask.

  “Don't,” Dallas warned.

  “Trust me,” she said through gritted teeth then started up her car and turned her headlights on to bright. Just to make sure sh
e had their attention, she revved up the engine.

  The group surrounding the girl looked her way before scattering out of sight, except the young man who was holding the frightened woman. He made sure to look at Nia as he twisted the young woman's arm around her back at an unnatural angle. Even Dallas winced as he watched, and it didn't take rocket science to know the woman's arm was probably broken. What was even more disturbing, however, was that the guy did it with such ease. Then he left. The young woman sank to her knees, sobbing and holding her arm.

  Nia pulled out of her parking spot and made for the exit. When she was out on the street, she sped more than she probably should have, but she desperately wanted to get away from the parking ramp.

  “Are you going to call the police?” Dallas asked.

  “You're talking to the one seventeen-year-old on the planet who doesn't have a cellphone,” she said and pulled off her mask. “I'm sure she'll be okay. The jerk made his point, whatever that was. Whoever he is...”

  “What tribe do you think they work for?”

  “One of the bad ones, obviously. They robbed her and intimidated her. How could they be aligned with my group?” Nia asked. “Besides, I know all of the members of the yellow tribe. Not like there are many of us. And I know a few from the purple one too. Our leaders have a more peaceful philosophy. The only aggressive missions I've been on have focused on trying to keep everything normal here on Earth.”

  Dallas gazed out the window, his fingers tapping his mouth. “I wish I knew how to aura read better, because something about them was familiar to me.”

  She gave him a weak smile. “I bet the closer you get to being one-hundred-percent alive, the stronger your powers will be. It's so cool you have them naturally!”

  “You do too, you know. The things you do are part of an ability you were born with. The Alturans simply unlocked it sooner than it would have manifested on its own.”