I inhale sharply, appraising his face. He’s not bluffing.
“I have constitutional rights?—”
“Been through this already. This is a national security issue. It trumps your so-called rights.”
I lean forward, staring long and hard at Clooney. “I’m just a waitress at a café. A one-woman rancher barely getting by. What could I possibly have to do with national security?”
“Start talking about your most recent employee. What he might have to do with the mutilated bull. The field you didn’t tell us about.”
My stomach twists, a thin sheen of sweat lining my forehead. I press my fingers into my temples, biting my bottom lip hard to hold back tears. “I’ve told you. I don’t knowanything.”
“Did he ever say anything to you about being different? About his past?”
The same questions over and over.
“Did he mention Wildbloods? What that term means?”
I snort, shaking my head. “Wildbloods? Might as well ask me about Bigfoot, the Witch-Bird. You can’t keep me here forever.”
“Sorry, ma’am, but you’d be surprised.”
“How?” I whisper, still not processing what’s going on. “People will ask about me. When I don’t show up to work. They’ll know something happened.”
“And they’ll need top-secret clearance for an answer. Now, Ms. Wakefield, start again. What do you know about aliens? Life that’s non-human?”
“I know you can go fuck yourselves,” I whisper, staring hard at the black tabletop in front of me.
“Try again, Eliza.”
“Go to hell.” But a new fear fills me as I stare at their blank faces. Devoid of kindness. Mercy, too.
If what they say is true…
No, I can’t go there. I can’t let them scare me into saying something I don’t believe myself. I can’t let them force me into divulging secrets about the man who saved my life.
Especially when it’s all just silly speculation and small-town tales.
“Alright, we’ll try again. What do you know about resonance? About the Starborn Range?”
I bite my lip until I taste iron in my mouth.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Try again, Eliza. You’re not going anywhere until we start getting answers that we like.”
“And what if I give you exactly what you want? I’d only be speaking nonsense. You know better than anyone that there are no aliens. There are no supernatural beings. Unless there’s something you want to tell me about those government signs surrounding the Starborn Range?” I say, voice rising at the end.
“Top secret,” Clooney says. “But you and your ranch hand who miraculously survived multiple rattlesnake bites with no medical attention? That’s fair game.”
“How do you know about that?” I ask, brow arching.
Clooney laughs. “Finally, something rings a bell.”
“A veritable miracle,” Murphy counters, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now, tell us the rest.”
I shake my head.
They don’t care. Not at all.
