Urine odor eradicated, he detected a fresh flower fragrance combined with an oddly pleasant, soothing essence, evoking a feeling of homecoming, caring, and belonging.
Inexplicably, the scents reminded him of the family in the church. What would it be like to be loved? To be valued by another just for existing? He had no idea how that would feel. A Progg wasn’t supposed to desire those things.
He took another whiff and shut the door.
One room had weird stuff in it, the likes of which he couldn’t fathom. The next musty-dusty room had a small, but adequate bed. He could park his sorry bones here, but one more room remained. When he pushed open the door, a fresh, cool breeze wafted over his face, bringing with it that alluring scent he’d detected in the sanitation chamber. The moon had ducked behind the clouds again, so it was too dark to see much more thanthe bed was lumpy and untidy. But he could smell. He inhaled that divine scent.This one.He would sleep in the fresh-smelling room evoking feelings of a home he’d never had.
He shrugged off his carryall and stripped off his clothes. He settled onto the bed and slipped the vaporizer under his pillow. He didn’t expect trouble, but the Earth campaign had taught him to expect the unexpected.
He relaxed and let the bed support his weary, injured body. That remarkable fragrance filled his senses and lulled him to sleep within minutes.
Chapter Ten
Awakening to cheery morning sun, the chitter of birdsong, and cool, woodsy air, Chloe realized she’d forgotten to close the windows before going to bed.
She raised her arms and flexed her feet in a full-body stretch. A solid night’s sleep had done wonders for her spirit, although thigh and butt muscles held a grudge after days of pedaling. She’d stay off the bike today. There was no urgency anymore, no deadline. She could rest for a day or two then cruise into Big Creek and try to find her mom’s friend’s house—or maybe pick out another place to live. Or, she could stay here until the water ran out.I have options.First on the agenda was breakfast. She’d spotted oatmeal in the pantry. She could cook it in a pot on the barbecue. Hot cereal had never sounded so good.
She stretched again and rolled over.
A Progg lay sleeping in the bed.
She screamed.
“Pikur zok vinik okum!”The alien jackknifed, grabbed a vaporizer, and aimed it at her.
“No!” She leaped up and backed into the corner, clutching a pillow to her chest—as if that could save her.This is it. This is how it ends.
He was huge—at least a foot taller than her five-foot-six, broad in shoulder with beefy muscles. His skin gleamed like polished silver, and there was a lot of it.Oh, god.She dragged her gaze away from his partial morning erection. Disconcertingly humanlike blue eyes locked on hers.
Why hasn’t he killed me yet?
“Que faites-vous ici?”he said in a deep, resonating, accented baritone.
French? They speak French?However, she did notparle français—she could only recognize the language when she heard it.
“¿Qué estás haciendo aquí?”Spanish now. He was trying different languages. “What are you doing here? Do you not understand me?” he said in English.
He hit the right language, and she found her voice. A shaky one. “I was sleeping.”Maybe I still am. Please let this be a nightmare. Wake up, Chloe! Wake up!
He fixed an assessing gaze on her face with those too-human inhuman eyes. “Did no one warn you it’s dangerous to approach a Progg?”
“Word got out, yes.”
He hadn’t lowered the vaporizer, but she was still alive.
“And yet, you chose this dwelling.”
“The house was vacant when I arrived. I checked.”Why didn’t I sleep with a weapon? A baseball bat. A can of hairspray. Bug spray.A flashlight heavier than the dinky one she’d dropped on the floor beside the bed.If her scream hadn’t awakened him, she could have brained him.
Note to self: get a gun.
She clutched the pillow tighter. He’d lost his partial erection, which brought a small measure of relief. She hadn’t heard of the aliens raping anybody, but perhaps no one lived to report it. With some surprise, she noticed he lacked testicles—at least, they weren’t outside his body. His skin glowed like liquid silver, but there was a puckered gray patch on his left thigh and right shoulder that reminded her of bullet wounds—not that she’d ever seen one.
Other than holding her at vaporizer point, he hadn’t made any threatening moves, so she said, “I’llbe going now” and inched her way along the window wall.
“No.”
Fuck.
