Take Me To Your Reader: An Otherworld Anthology (18 page)

I ran faster.

City blocks gave way to long, squat buildings my host knew as warehouses. There was less and less foot traffic and then none at all. Even the streets emptied. Fewer cars travelled here and those that did were built with rectangular boxes on the back. Tractor trailers.

My lungs burned. My chest heaved in an attempt to suck in enough oxygen to calm my racing heart. It wasn
't enough. I couldn't keep this pace up much longer. Black dots danced at the edge of my vision.

Still, I ran, listening for sounds in the shadows.

When I was positive I would lose consciousness if I didn't stop, my feet slowed and then halted. With my back to the wall of a deserted building, I bent over at the waist and sucked in air. I stayed that way until the dots in my vision disappeared. Far in the distance a dog barked. I needed to move again.

I started walking, keeping to the shadows and the overhangs along the building entryways. When crossing the street couldn
't be avoided, I sprinted. Otherwise, I crept slowly.

Eventually, warehouses gave way to a river. The bank was sharp and rocky, the murky water swirling and pushing empty soda cans and other garbage along its edge. Humans were filthy.

I followed the current until I found a bridge, crossing swiftly. The sun was at my back now. I wasn't sure how many hours had passed. It felt like several. I wondered if Bone and Marnie had made it back to the hotel. Or Dieben.

I had to get to them before the shuttle arrived to take us home. First, I had to figure out where I was.

With the river behind me, the scenery changed. Rows of houses with lawns full of dead grass lined the street. A dog barked, this one much closer. Children played and rode bikes along the crumbling sidewalk. No sign of a police car anywhere.

When I reached an intersection with a stoplight, I paused and turned in a slow circle. In the left distance, high-rise buildings rose into the sky. I headed toward them, careful to keep an eye out for police. Traffic picked up again, including pedestrians. I tried to blend in, move with them. Despite that fact that I
'd slowed to a walk, my breath came in short gasps. My host identified it as panic. The Imperial felt impossibly far away.

Inside my pocket, my communicator buzzed. I bit back a yell as I reached inside my pocket and switched it off. Talking to my mother was not on the list of things I was capable of at the moment. Up ahead, the crosswalk light switched to red. The crowd stopped. I shifted my weight, antsy to be moving again. Not far off, a police siren sang to life and I darted into the alley, crouching there until the siren faded.

"Pssst!"

I froze at the noise and a hand closed over my wrist. I swung out, my host reacting out of pure reflex. 

"Ow," someone muttered. "Axel, it's me."

I straightened and stepped toward the figure hunched in the shadowed awning.
"Becca?"

"
Holy hell. That hurt." She rubbed tenderly at her shoulder, still wincing.

"
I'm so sorry," I said, reaching toward her only to awkwardly drop my hands at my sides again. Humans didn't touch each other often, not unless you were very close. "I didn't know it was you. I'm so sorry," I repeated.

"
It's fine, I'll live," she said. Her hand still held her shoulder but her expression cleared and she threw a glance up and down the alley. I did the same. It was empty.

"
I think I lost him," I said.

"
For now." She bit her lip and tilted her head, studying me. "Come with me."

"
Where?"

She didn
't respond except to turn on her heel and disappear through the doorway behind her. I hesitated for all of two seconds before ducking inside behind her.

I pulled the door closed behind me and waited.
"Where are you?" I whispered into the darkness.

"
This way. Up the stairs."

"
There's no light."

"
One foot in front of the other. You'll be fine. Come on."

Haltingly, I made my way up the stairs in front of me. Halfway up, a beam of light appeared as a door was opened. I hurried the last few steps and found Becca waiting for me on the landing. A scarred wooden door hung open behind her, which she promptly closed and locked behind me.

"I have to get back, make sure the others are safe," I said.

"
When it's dark I'll take you," she said.

"
Where are we?"

Like before, she seemed to debate before answering me.
"My place."

The space was open and full of light from long, narrow windows that ran along the ceiling. The walls were paneled in dark wood. Cherry? And the furniture sat low and scattered. It was inviting in a relaxed,
"no rules" sort of way. "You live here?" I asked.

"
Me and Marnie. And sometimes a third. She's out of town right now."

"
It's nice."

"
Thanks. You want something to drink?"

"
Water, please."

I followed her to the kitchen, separated from the rest of the room by a long counter with stools. I sat on one and drank deeply from the glass she set in front of me. When I set it down again, I found her staring at me.

"I'm sorry about the cops. Mr. Wu set up a couple of surveillance cameras a few months back when a place down the road got held up. I forgot all about them until it was too late. He must've seen the footage and then you came in … Well, I just wanted you to know I didn't rat you out."

Rat you out? I took a minute to understand the meaning.
"Actually, it never even dawned on me that you would've given us up. But thank you for explaining."

She frowned.
"Huh."

"
What?"

"
Nothing." She waved her hand as if to dismiss it and began refilling my glass. "I take it you and your friends split up."

"
Yes, Marnie went with Bone."

She nodded.
"And the other one?"

"
Dieben. He went on ahead." It was my turn to frown. "I think …"

"
I'm sure they all made it back just fine. From what I saw, the cop was alone and he pursued you, not them."

"
I hope so. I can't let anything happen to them."

"
You're not responsible for them."

"
Trust me, I am."

She eyed me.
"I think it's pretty obvious I trust you a lot already." At my blank look, she added, "I brought you here, didn't I? You could be an axe murderer for all I know."

"
I promise I'm not an axe murderer," I said, swallowing back the urge to laugh. If she only knew what I was … maybe she'd prefer an axe murderer. At least then we'd be the same species.

"
It's not funny. I mean, how do I know?"

"
I pinky swear I'm not an axe murderer."

Her eyes narrowed but I could see the hint of a smile.
"You've been talking to Marnie, haven't you?"

I laughed and she gave in and smiled back at me.
"Fine. I believe you're not a killer. But you are a criminal."

My laughter died and heaved a sigh.
"I can't believe I broke into your restaurant. It's so unlike me."

"
We all do crazy things when we're drunk."

"
That's the thing. I don't remember drinking. Or anything else about the night."

"
You and Dieben looked pretty trashed when I saw you getting into that cab. Dieben would've face-planted if it weren't for that chick you were with."

Jane. She was the only thing that still didn
't make sense. "Did you happen to notice anything about her?" I asked.

"
Like what?"

"
I don't know. Anything out of the ordinary."

Becca tilted her head in thought and I found myself staring once again at the curve of her neck, the fullness of her lips. She stuck them out when she concentrated. It was fascinating and made me want to trace them with my fingertips.

I shoved my hands in my pockets and looked away. I'd never, not once, had those thoughts about a girl before. Human or Panmeran. Dieben was right. It'd taken coming to Earth to awaken my hormones. I'd never live this down.

"
She was a little older than us. That was all."

"
How old?"

"
I don't know. She looked around twenty-five or so." Becca shrugged. "I figured she must've assumed you guys were her age. I mean, you're close, right?"

"
I'm eighteen," I said.

"
Yeah, so, not a big deal—"

"
How old are you, Becca?"

She blinked, clearly thrown off by the question. Frankly, so was I. I hadn
't intended to ask it aloud, but the urge to know more about her even in the short time we had left was too strong to ignore. "Me? Seventeen."

"
And you live alone in this apartment? Where is your family?"

Her mouth tightened into a thin line. She didn
't like my questions. "Marnie is my family. She's all I need."

"
Of course. I didn't mean to imply—I just wanted to know you better."

I watched as she breathed deeply, relaxing her shoulders and then the rest of her, the action very deliberate.
"And how is it you're staying in a hotel suite downtown with two friends? No car, no job, no family."

"
Spring break," I said, giving the answer I'd been trained to give.

"
Uh-huh and where do you go to school?"

"
I …" Suddenly, I couldn't remember the name I'd been given. Nor could I remember anything else about the lie I was supposed to perpetuate. For reasons I couldn't explain, I wanted to tell this beautiful girl the truth. Is that what'd happened to Bone? Is that why he'd told Marnie? "It's far away," I said, skirting the truth rather than giving it. "My parents let me come and stay for a few days before I go home and take over the family business."

"
And what sort of business is that?"

"
Politics?"

"
Is that a question?"

"
No, it's my answer." My dad is the viceroy to a consulate that governs half a solar system that would take your people eighteen hundred years to reach in a man-made space shuttle. I will one day take over and rule those planets in his place. In the meantime, I will eat a bunch of boring dinners and give a bunch of boring lectures to a bunch of boring constituents that chose plant-based life-formed planets for their Rumschpringe. This day will forever be the greatest adventure of my life.

I couldn
't say any of that. "It's just … complicated," I added instead.

"
It always is." Becca's lips quirked up in amusement. "And then you went and stole noodles."

"
The plot thickens," I agreed, using a term I'd gleaned from my host.

"
Is that a food pun?"

"
Huh. I guess it is."

She giggled and I grinned back at her. I enjoyed the sound of her laughter—especially knowing I
'd been the one responsible for it. I wanted to do it again and again.

"
Speaking of noodles … You hungry?" she asked.

"
I could eat. As long as it's not noodles."

She smiled.
"Deal. How about pizza?"

"
Pizza?" I was so absorbed in her smile, the way her whole face lit when she really meant it, that I fumbled in my host's mind for the meaning of what she'd suggested.

"
I can do something else if that's not …"

"
Pizza's great," I said.

"
Good. I need your help. Come around here." She began pulling things out of the fridge and handing them over her shoulder. I took the items and set them on the counter, reading and cataloguing each one in case she asked about them. I needed to concentrate, to be more careful. No more slip-ups.

Pizza was surprisingly similar to a Panmeran meal.  Not necessarily the ingredients themselves—dough was such an odd, sticky thing to hold on to—but the ritual, the movements involved in preparing food. Colryn had loved cooking. We
'd spent many nights, he and I, in the kitchen together, preparing food and horsing around before our parents returned from work. I hadn't attempted it without him. The idea had been too painful. But here, now, with Becca, it felt good.

The memories it triggered were bittersweet, but the scent and sight of her as we stood shoulder to shoulder over the counter distracted me. It was fascinating to know this species and mine enjoyed a common task.