Chapter 1: Men Are From Mars, Yaonis & Other Freaky Critters Are From Axiom

“And if you tip it back like this, you can empty the whole cartridge at once.” I laugh as the pair of redheaded twins I’ve been speaking to glare at me in awe. I fill up another Pez dispenser and hand it to one of them so she can try it. She laughs and the big spaces between her baby teeth make me smile.

“That is so cool.” Her sister leans over and grabs it out of her hand. She grabs it back and they begin fighting over it. I hand her an identical one and mess up the cropped-short hair on both of their heads with either hand.

“Keep ‘em both. I’ve got dozens.” I stand up as the bus pulls into the Hyannis rest stop. I grip my laptop and duffle bag tightly and walk off the bus at a leisurely pace. The air is fresh and clean here, if you discount all the bus exhaust. This is only supposed to be a short rest stop en route to a town in Cape Cod. A friend who I’d helped back in Washington D.C had told me of a nice, quiet little place there called Provincetown. He wouldn’t give me any details about it, only that I’d be pleasantly surprised. I make my way into the quaint station here looking for a bite to eat. I barely make it through the doors before somebody bumps into me, nearly knocking the bags from my grasp.

“S’cuse me.” The large security guard states hastily, barely glancing at me for a moment before darting off toward the pizza shop to my left. There, he joins one other guard who seems to be trying to communicate to a man who seems lost and frustrated.

Of course, I have to check it out.

“I’m sorry, sir.” The woman behind the counter pleads with him. “I don’t understand what you want, try to calm down, okay? Point to something on the menu.” She points at the menu, which only seems to exasperate the young man further.

“Fey edet tenta ya-ut mah-toi!” The man opens his hands in front of him to accentuate. He looks to be in his early twenties, short, maybe 5’6”, sporting a solid frame of lean muscle. He has long dark hair and stringy bangs that fall over his large, slanted eyes. He looks almost Tibetan or otherwise Asian, but his skin tone was far too pale and his features were far too sharp. His garb reminds me of something a Japanese traveler might wear, and the sheath of a small bo-staff was clearly visible on his back. I think that, more than anything was what was making the guards nervous.

“I think he’s hungry.” I push past the guards who look about ready to wrestle him to the ground if he so much as twitches wrong. I place my hand on his arm gently and as non-aggressively as possible. He snaps his head to look at me, and narrows his eyes at me threateningly. I immediately let go.

“Nai ti yame-grais!” He pulls away from me defensively. His eyes are two different colors; the left one a deep, haunting blue and the right, a golden-yellow. Probably contacts.

“Two plain slices, please.” I slowly place a twenty on the counter. “And keep it.” Those eyes watch me like a hawk with every subtle move I make. The slices are served up steaming hot and I take the tray, motioning for the stranger to follow me. “It’s okay, guys. I don’t think he’ll be causing any more trouble.” I smile at the one guard who crashed into me at the door.

“Forgive us if we keep an extra eye out.” They watch as the young man’s gaze follows the pizza tray intently.

“No problem. We’ll be sitting over there.” I continue to urge him over with me to the seats in the far corner, making sure not to give him the slice until he sits down across from me.

“Yawen ti.” He smiles, picking the cheese off the pizza with his long fingernails and stuffing his face like he hasn’t had a bite to eat in months. I drop some napkins in front of him and smile, shaking my head.

“I’m Jarod.” I point to myself, hoping he gets the message. I wonder what he’s doing here. That language doesn’t seem at all familiar and I’ll be dammed if I can figure it out. I wonder where he’s from. Does he have any friends? Any family?

He looks up at me when I say this, a faint hint of understanding in those big, beautiful eyes. “Ah—oom Jay-rid.” He imitates me with a grin and a mouth full of sauce and bread.

“No, no,” I shake my head and point to myself again. “Jarod.” I pause, both eyebrows raised. “Jaaah-rod. Jarod.” I motion toward him. “And you?”

“Mm!” A spark of recognition. He points to me, swallowing the food. “Jaah-rod!” Then points to himself, smiling much like a child would. “Bola.”

“Ah…Bola!” Finally, we’re making progress. “Where’s your home, Bola? Your home?”

Again, that blank stare. “E’eshi-tat.” He sighs, disappointed.

We eat the rest of our pizza in silence, looking up every so often with meaningful glares to each other. He gives me soft, appreciative looks and I give him sorrowful, ‘I’m sorry I can’t understand a blessed word you’re saying’ looks in return. I find it funny that with all my training, with all my extensive experience being just about everything, I can’t seem to communicate even non-verbally with a confused stranger. It’s a good thing I found him, though, because if he’d been left here, he’d have gotten himself in trouble and probably would have ended up in jail or worse. After I finish my slice, I open my dufflebag and pull a small atlas booklet from the top compartment. He narrows his eyes again suspiciously, but relaxes when he realizes what I’m holding.

“Map.” I point to the paper, unfolding it. “See? It’s a map. Point to where you’re from, Bola.” I smooth it out on the small table next to us and he admires it fondly. I start by pointing to approximately where we are and he smiles when I point to him.

“Nai.” He laughs, and for the first time, I realize his eye teeth are exaggerated, forming small fangs. He slaps the table in laughter. “Nai, Jarod. Fey nai tat-Myoo eh fai-bwa.” What the hell is he trying to say? He holds his hand out and after a moment, I give him the booklet. He flips through it and slaps it down on the table, pointing to a smaller picture of the entire globe. “Nai sook ai-rushool.” His eyes fixed meaningfully on mine, still pointing to a spot on the page. My gaze darts to where his finger is pointing and I almost fall out of my chair.

His finger isn’t on the globe at all. My God, is he telling me what I think he’s telling me? He reaches into his pocket and takes out a small brown, oddly-shaped box with a small speaker in it. “Zat-mek.” He knocks it on the table a few times, puts it to his ear and shrugs. “Zat-mek, neh?” He points to the box and gestures again.

“Broken? You mean whatever this is, it’s broken?”

“Brrrroken.” He repeats. Just then, they announce over the speaker that my bus will be pulling out in five minutes. Just long enough to buy an extra ticket for my new friend.

As we approach the bus, Bola begins to get noticeably nervous, almost like he’s never seen a bus before. I get in back of him and literally have to push him halfway up the steps. He keeps saying the word, ‘nai’ over and over again. He says other words, but that word seems to pop up the most. I believe it means ‘no’. I lead him to my seat across from the redheaded twins and I seat him at the window so he’d be calmer. I even let him have my last twinkie. He thoroughly enjoys it, but groans and holds his stomach about a half hour later. By the time we reach Provincetown, he becomes violently ill, vomiting the twinkie and the pizza all over the street. I hold him and rub his back, trying to make him feel better. When he feels well enough, he sits up and puts an arm around me, still hanging him head.

“Brrroken.” He frowns. I can’t help but chuckle.

Provincetown is as beautiful as I’d imagined it to be. It’s a quaint little harbor town with friendly and quirky natives. The smell of restaurant food, fresh fish and salt water lingers in the air. Bola begins shivering and hugging himself, meanwhile, it’s barely 60 degrees out. We take a cab to a small hotel with a dirt road right outside and a beautiful view of the water. Bola is wary of his surroundings at first, but quickly gets used to it, especially when I show him how comfortable the beds are. He responds by jumping up and down on them, laughing.

“Bola, what are you doing? You’re going to fall off and hurt yourself.” He just laughs at me and keeps jumping. “Ti mayat nena yar fau-ier!” He leans over and pulls me up on the bed with him, grabbing both my arms, forcing me to jump as well.

Hey, this is pretty fun. Pretty soon, he’s jumping on one bed and I’m jumping on the other. We do this until we both collapse from exhaustion. I slip and fall off the bed.

“Jarod!” He dives after me, still giggling. He holds my head and pulls me close to him, mumbling something. Those exotic, spellbinding eyes of his meet mine and suddenly, I can’t seem to come up with a single coherent thought. “Ti mah-swai?” He purrs, his brows knit with concern. It almost sounds like he’s asking me if I’m alright. On instinct, I nod, giving him a big, goofy smile. This isn’t like me, not at all. What is wrong with me? Why is it that every time I make eye contact with this guy, my heart seems to skip a beat? I’ve felt something similar once before on one of my Pretends as a Mountain Ranger, and then even more intensely with Zoë, but they felt nothing like this.

Sydney, the Psychologist who pretty much raised me in a horrible, evil place called The Center told me it was merely a chemical reaction to natural physical stimuli. With the Mountain Ranger, it seemed more feasible. But this…this seems a lot deeper than that. Not even Zoë had ever blown me away with one glance the way this guy does.

“Jarod?” Bola repeats, his eyes looking twice as concerned as they were before.

I pull away from him, shaking my head, waving him away casually. “I’m alright, really. I must have just spaced out for a minute.” I smile and he returns it, yet he still looks concerned.

That day, we settle in. I show him what a T.V. is and how to work the toilet and shower. He shows me his bo staff, which is actually made out of some metal I’ve never seen. When he says a few words, probably code words, the two sharp ends of the staff snap out, sounding like someone just unsheathed a sword. It almost triples in size and the ends look sharp enough to impale a cow with one thrust. He stands up and demonstrates amazing skill with that weapon. The kind of skill you have to train your whole life for. He also shows me a long, arrowhead-shaped amulet he wears around his neck with some sort of odd glyphs engraved into it. He grips it tight and holds it close to his heart. I show him the pictures of my mother and brother, Kyle, and the war cross metal my father gave to Kyle before we were kidnapped by The Center.

“Ishtah.” He suddenly looks serious. He climbs back onto the bed and sits cross-legged across from me.

“What is it?” I frown as he gets closer to me. Close enough that all he’d have to do is lean over a few inches and he’d be kissing me. I find myself almost wishing he would. He puts a hand on my shoulder and looks a bit worried. “Bola, what is it? What’s wrong?”

He places his thumb across my lips the long way. “Ya-oosh.” He whispers, his expression growing soft, almost lazy. He takes my hand and places it on the side of his face. Without another word, I begin stroking his soft, warm flesh, glaring into those gorgeous eyes, beginning to lose myself in this. He closes his eyes, his brows still knit and his body tensed. Almost like he’s expecting something bad to happen. If he wanted me, he could have me, I wouldn’t ever hurt him for…

“What the Hell??” I pull back dramatically and stare at him wide-eyed in horror. It was his ear. Something I felt but didn’t see. He lowers his head almost shamefully and touches his metallic bracelet. It looked like a watch, but instead of the clock, there was a plain metal disk. He touches both sides of it and it pops up. There are tiny lights coming from inside. He presses something and I hear a slight beep. That’s when his image blurs a bit and his appearance changes. His ears become long and pointed, like an elf, his eyes appear much larger and a lot less…human. Not larger as in the typical alien, but longer, more slanted, moving past his temples. His skin remains pale, in fact, it becomes a bit more so, now blushed pink with emotion, and his hair appears as a silvery blue. As alien as he looks now, he’s absolutely stunning. I rub my eyes and try to calm my labored breathing, all the while trying to pick my jaw up from the floor.

“What…are you?” I manage to choke out after a long while of painful silence.

He motions with both hands to me. “Haaooo-man.” Then, he brings his hands to his own chest. “Yaonis.”

“Yaonis?” I repeat stupidly, not knowing what else to say.

He responds by making a fist and bringing it to his chest. “Pai. Yaonis.” He says it slower, with more emotion. He sighs when I still look confused and freaked out. “Ishtah.” His frown lightens up a bit as he pulls out a small rectangular, almost flat piece of metal. “Shtook. Shtook.” He puts both index fingers on either side and suddenly, it pops open and I realize it’s a box. On the top piece, there’s a small screen and an even smaller transparent keypad with three similar glyphs on it. On the bottom, a small slot for a disk or something, too small to fit a DSA. He presses the middle glyph and a digital photo appears on the screen. It looks to be a family portrait.

Six people, all with odd-colored hair stand close and all smiling. What looked to be the father and by far the tallest, a powerful looking guy with similar ears, a long green braid and a large scar going from his forehead past the bridge of his nose, Bola points to first. “Tuseah, yar Penait.” Then, he points to another man in long gray robes, feminine, thin and frail-looking with long, flowing purple hair and dark, mysterious eyes, his ears are abnormally large and rounded and his face is so painfully perfect, it looked to be made of porcelain. “Kayuai” He speaks slowly and deliberately. “Yar Fau-ier.” He says proudly, pulling his shirt out with a hand to imitate a large belly. He then points to what looked to be his three brothers. The taller one with short green hair wore human clothes and had the same round ears, as did the next tallest, who had long purple hair and wore small, round glasses. His long purple hair was held back in a ponytail and he wore almost eastern-style clothing. He points to the taller one first, then the purple-haired one. “Muwan tak Nanua.” Bola himself is in the picture too, looking a few years younger, holding a child of about eight playfully in his arms. “Teth!” He squeals joyously, pointing to the kid, who I assumed to be his little brother. Teth had pointed ears like Bola and his father, and the same spiky green hair. However, Bola was the only one with blue hair and two different colored eyes. I also notice that the ones with rounded ears seemed a lot more dainty and beautiful, whereas the ones with pointed ears seemed a lot more masculine and rugged.

“Your family.” I smile, putting my hand over his. He looks up at me and my smile widens. “Family.” I point to the picture.

“Pai, Jarod.” He smiles back, a hint of gloss in his eye. “Faaaam-lee.” I can’t help myself, I grab him and hold him. He begins to weep in my arms. I soon join him.

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We hold each other like that for about a half hour. I can’t lie, it feels absolutely amazing; Bola seems to fit perfectly in my arms. This emotional release was more than therapeutic, it was probably a long time in coming. I have been holding in my feelings of anger and frustration about not being able to find my parents for nearly two years, ever since I escaped from The Center’s clutches. Every time I’ve come close to them, The Center’s Sweepers butt in and ruin everything. I know why they hunt me, but I never found out why they’re still trying to kill my parents; and it tears me apart. Something’s wrong with him as well. I have a feeling he’s running from something just like I am, maybe another organization that separated him from his family too. I couldn’t be sure, but from the tinted-blue tears streaking his flawless face, I know it hurts him deeply; and that’s a pain I can definitely relate to.

He runs his slender fingers through my short brown hair, lightly raking his thick, sharp claws over my scalp, just enough to make me shiver with delight. He brings his face close to mine and plants a sweet, innocent kiss on my cheek. “Yawen ti.” He whispers softly, closing his eyes with a slight smile on those perfect pink lips. I believe he’s thanking me. I respond by kissing his cheek in return and holding him tight.

“C’mon, I think we both need to relax.” I glance around the room for no particular reason. “This is a hotel, right? That means there’s a pool. You know how to swim, Bola?” I make a swimming motion with both my elbows out, trying to illustrate. “You know, swim?” He gives me an odd look and laughs.

“Soooh-immm.” He imitates my movements, still smiling, yet sniffling.

I run into the bathroom, grab two big towels, come back, grab him by the arm and lock up on our way out. It takes us a while, but we find the pool just in time to find out it closed about three hours ago. The Jacuzzi, however, doesn’t close until early morning. Thankfully, no one is there so we have it all to ourselves. Even better, neither of us have bathing suits. I put my arm into the bubbly, hot water, trying to find a nice way to say, ‘take off all your clothes, you sexy son of a bitch’ in my head. Again, he mimics me, putting his hand in as well.

“Ah! Bishi-aruntu!” He giggles childishly, immediately beginning to strip. Well, that was easier than I thought. He removes his filthy, dusty clothing and piles it up next to the side, putting all his nifty little gadgets well within reach. I take off my clothing absently, mostly paying attention to his amazing physique. He has the body of a college jock, lean and powerful, strong and sleek at the same time. Perfect. He has a large tattoo of some sort of bronze-colored alien beast coiling in an S-shape across his entire back. With the exception of his underarms and the small blue patch on his crotch, he is virtually hairless. His penis is shockingly similar to that of a human’s, except that his has several tiny, fleshy nubs around the base of his crown. It was a formidable size too, even though it was mostly limp. I couldn’t pull my gaze away from him. I knew it was just a matter of time before he notices I’m glaring at him like a lobotomy patient, but I can’t help it. He looks right at me, smiling. He sizes me up and down too, raising a thin blue eyebrow in distinct approval, then climbs into the Jacuzzi.

He motions for me to join him. “Eftah, Jarod.” He chuckles. After that, I yank off whatever I have left and slide in with him. He immediately slides his soft hands around my waist, feeling up my back sensually. All it takes is one long look into those haunting eyes of his for me to realize I can’t take this anymore. I need this beautiful creature, alien or not, right here, right now.

My lips close in on his, and one of my hands caresses his face lovingly. He doesn’t fight me in the least, in fact, his grip on my body tightens as our kiss becomes more and more urgent, more passionate. I break it to suckle lightly on his delicate neck, and he gasps out in pleasure at the stimulation. I don’t even fully know what I want to do with him, but he seems to know what he’s doing, and instinct will help me along more than enough. My cock aches and strains as I unintentionally rub it against his leg. He wraps his long fingers around it and squeezes tight. I let out a loud groan and pull him in for another kiss. This time, my tongue pushes past his lips and into his warm mouth. He lets out a small, muffled moan as his tongue dances with mine. I begin feeling the length of his fully erect member with the tips of my fingers, which only seems to excite him further. My other hand is groping and feeling up his plush, soft ass cheeks.

“Ugh! Oh, Bola, I need you so bad!” I cry out as his sharp fangs dig powerfully into my shoulder. He doesn’t draw blood, but it hurts- and for some reason, I like it a lot. Both of my hands are now gripping desperately at his ass cheeks, pulling them apart and squeezing the soft, tender flesh underneath my fingers. He groans and throws his head all the way back, drenching his long, luxurious hair in the steamy water. I fondle all over his smooth hips and thighs, feeling several large claw marks on his right thigh. Part of me wants to stop and ask about it, but the rest of me doesn’t rightfully care at the moment.

“Ai, Jarod…” He gasps sharply, pulling one of my hands over towards his throbbing cock, making me wrap my fingers around it again. “Ah-shtoorek!” He bites his lip and glares at me pleadingly. I begin stroking it and he sighs, shutting his eyes tight. “Ah…yawen ti.” He groans. That means ‘thank you’…hey, I’m getting good at this. He gives me a sensual, mischievous grin and dips his head down, licking my nipples. I inhale through my teeth and knit my brows. God, that feels good. It’s like he knows what turns me on better than I do. I stroke his dick with slow, deliberate strokes, reveling in how sexy his heightened moans and cries are and how amazingly aroused I am right now. I was feeling a bit lightheaded due to the lack of blood to my brain, but all it does is add to the euphoric feeling. Those sharp fangs of his nibble lightly on my sensitive nipples as he glides his palm teasingly over the head of my dick, and I nearly pass out from pleasure.

We keep this up for quite a while and I’m enjoying it so much, I must have picked up the pace on stroking his cock. His mouth is right next to my ear, moaning and gasping and making me absolutely nuts with desire. I was so into this act that I barely notice his moans quickening and lengthening. I feel his swollen cock pulse and throb as thick streams of beige-tinted cum shoot from the head and into the water. He bites down on my shoulder to muffle his screams and his grip on my dick tightens with his sudden release. His body goes slightly limp in my arms and I help him to the side so he can sit down on the steps.

“Bladook.” He grins, panting. He takes me by the back of my neck and kisses me. I wrap my arms around him and slide my tongue back into his mouth. After a few moments, he pulls away, grips my sides and with amazing strength, he picks me up and sits me down over the side of the hot tub with my feet still dangling in.

“Whoa, Bola, you’re strong!” He doesn’t even look up at me, he merely grips the base of my still rock-solid cock with both hands and begins licking the sensitive crown. I grab his hair and run my fingers through it, moaning in delight. He sucks on it fully, taking the length a little more with each thrust of his expert mouth until he’s all the way to the hilt. The feeling of my cock hitting the back of his throat drives me crazy. All I want is to shoot my load into that warm, tight mouth of his. With both hands, I guide his head up and down onto my oversensitive prick, fucking his face so hard, I begin to worry if I’m hurting him. He squeezes my thighs and rolls my swollen balls around with a hand to heighten the whole experience. He swallows my cock over and over again with amazing skill, making me cry out and beg for more. My nails dig into his exposed back and rake up to his shoulders. He lets out a muffled moan against my dick and tugs on my balls some more. I yell out and feel my whole body shuddering with impending release, and shut my eyes tight as I feel myself get pushed over the edge. My prick explodes from inside his mouth. I shake and grip his shoulders tight for support as I ejaculate harder than I ever thought possible. I hunch over and scream out, “Oh my God!” dangerously loud as I cream inside him. Thick gobs of my seed leak from the sides of his lips as he struggles to swallow it all. My groundbreaking orgasm finally subsides and he slides his luscious lips from my spent dick, licking the remainder of my sperm and his blue-tinted saliva from the softening shaft. I lay down on the wet wooden platform, my legs still inside the water. He lifts himself out and climbs on top of me, smiling lovingly at me.

“Bola…that was…just…wow.” He smiles wide at me when I say this, almost as if he understands. “Wow.” I repeat, chuckling.

“Wow.” He mimics, his teeth chattering somewhat. He presses himself into me. His skin suddenly feels cold. I nudge him back into the water and quickly join him. He submerges himself to warm up. When he comes up above the water again, I wrap my arms around his taunt body and kiss him again. He shudders and moans softly, and soon, our tongues are dancing furiously. All that does it get my cock hard again and my body wanting more. I find his still rock-hard member in the water with my fingers and stroke it’s length teasingly. He hisses through his teeth and rakes his powerful claws lightly over my back. It makes me grunt out loudly in pleasure.

“I still need you, you sexy bastard.” I mumble, nibbling on his ear. He gasps out sharply, melting in my arms when I do this. “Ah, a weak spot.” I chuckle, exploiting it for all it’s worth. The higher up his ear I nibble, the louder and more intense his moaning grows. When I get to the very tip, he’s grasping onto me for dear life, moaning desperately like he’s having another orgasm. His prick presses against my thigh and throbs with arousal. He screams something to me and pulls away, his starlit eyes heavy with passion. He props himself back up onto the wooden ledge and pulls me into him, his sweet ass level with my aching dick. He wants me to fuck him. Badly.

He holds out his hand and spits crudely into it and motions for me to add some of my own. He uses it to stroke my steely cock, getting the shaft nice and slick. He wastes no time pulling me into him, opening his ass up to me. The entire length of my dick pushes into his tight, wet hole in one strong, smooth stroke. We both grunt in pleasure as I enter him to the hilt. I hunch over him, raw need taking over my motor functions as I begin thrusting my pulsating member into him rapidly. He grabs his own cock and strokes himself off as I invade him. His ass sheaths me over and over, and I moan and cry out in utter ecstasy, grabbing his hair and using it to pull him into me with each thrust.

His voice becomes high-pitched and desperate. He tosses his head back despite me yanking roughly on his hair and wraps both of his muscular arms tightly around my torso. His wonderfully curved back arches up off the damp wood, quickening his thrusts to match mine. I’ve had sex in the past, but never have I been so completely insane with pleasure and lust. I am lost in the misty haze of this unbelievable act. My hips are bucking wildly and I’m screaming out, crying for more, begging and pleading with him to let me do this forever. I lean over and compound my thrusting, biting the tip of his ear almost violently. He yells out what I can only guess to be a curse word, raking his claws up my back. It stings deliciously, and the warm wetness drooling down my sides only excites me further. I switch over to the neglected ear and begin working on it. I’m completely pressed against him now and his cock is sliding against my stomach amidst a pool of his own hot precum.

I’m spearing into that tight, sweet ass of his with reckless abandon and he can’t seem to get enough. My biting relents into hard licking and sucking. “Ah, Jarod…ai…ai…!” His voice cracks from near-hysteria. He gasps and moans, grabbing two fistfuls of my short brown hair. His head reels back as his eyes shut tight. His stimulated cock tenses and explodes from between our heated bodies, steaming hot seed shoots all over us as the last of his heightened screams echo in my ears. His ass clenches tight around my cock, milking the most un-fucking-believable climax out of me, making my whole body buck and thrash from on top of him violently. My mouth drops open and I let out a primal roar of bliss as I empty my balls, shooting my thick jism deep inside his stomach. Drool spills from my lip and onto his neck and heaving chest. He grabs me tight and thrusts against me, matching my weakening, slowing strokes. At this point, I’m gripping onto him for dear life. I’m gasping and struggling to regain both my breath and my composure, and I can barely comprehend the phenomenon that just occurred.

We lie there for a good long while, kissing and petting each other lovingly. I listen to his heart beating abnormally fast. It takes me a long time to get back to normal myself. Only when he begins to shudder again do I finally (yet regretfully) slide myself out of the endless warmth of his body and climb off of him. We get back into the hot tub and clean off. Only when the water hits by back do I realize how much those gashes hurt. I grit my teeth and bear it to save him the guilt. I help him out and wrap a towel around him. He’s fully shivering now and I wonder if he’s always been this sensitive to cold. Maybe his people live in a tropical climate. We get partially redressed and I get him back to our room, holding his freezing form the whole way. I decide it’s about time to get him a decent change of clothes. First thing in the morning, we go shopping.

When we get back into the room, he notices that I’m bleeding through the towel. He insists that I sit down on the bed and he sits in back of me. He takes this tiny tube from his belt and starts squeezing this cold goo on my wounds. It stops stinging almost immediately, and pretty soon, I pretty much forget they were ever there. “Hey, that’s amazing, is that medicine from your world?”

He doesn’t answer, he just caps the tube and puts it away. “Fey ser hu-metais, Jarod.” He frowns sadly to me, motioning that he’s hungry, but I have no idea what he eats.

“Do you know cheese? Cheese, like from a cow…moooo…” He laughs at me and I feel like an idiot. “Okay, no cheese, that’s right, you threw it up last time. What about meat? You have fangs, you’re a meat-eater, right?” I turn on the T.V. and point to a deer on the discovery channel. He glares at it like he has no idea what it is. I point to it, then make like I’m chewing and swallowing something while rubbing my stomach. “Mmm, deer. Meat, you like meat?” His head suddenly snaps to me and then back at the image of a deer, he gasps loudly, grabbing his chest, his eyes widening in horror.

“Nai!! Nai tiendotelek ma-fieg nen fashoi matru--” I hold my hand over his mouth, my other hand up, trying to calm his panicked ranting down.

“Whoa, relax, relax!! I was just asking! Shhh…” I hug him tightly as he resumes his ranting in a slightly calmer tone. “Okay, so the thought of eating an animal mortifies you. Then what do you eat??” I bring him over to the T.V. screen and hold my hands up in confusion. “Point at something. What looks tasty to you?”

He looks at the screen for a long moment. He points at the trees and smiles. I don’t think he understands what I’m asking. I make the chewing motion again and point to the screen. “Point at something, Bola. I can’t feed you if I don’t know what you like.”

“Yaket.” He grins, pointing at a close-up image of a butterfly.

“Yes, the butterfly is very pretty, but what do you…”

“Ammm.” He mimics the chewing motion and points again to the butterfly. Oh, yuck. I don’t think room service would send up an insect sample platter. I cringe as he points to the trees again, both to the leaves and the bark. When they show flowers, he points to that too. No wonder he became violently ill from the pizza. “Yaket tubais.” He smiles and licks his lips. There was only one thing to do at this point.

__

“Hey, I found some more bark.” I hand him some damp bark I found on the grass, since he became upset when I peeled it from the tree. He tosses it onto the piece of cloth next to him while he finishes up a small campfire. He sets up a mini cookware set and boils some water, tossing a few flowers in, then the bark, then some grass and leaves. He found a dead cricket, probably left by one of the feral cats roaming around out here. He holds the cricket corpse out in both hands, raising it to the sky, saying what sounded to be some prayer for it before tossing into the boiling water. I merely sit there and watch him in awe. He cooks this horrible stew for a while and takes it off the flame, fixing this grate over the top and slowly draining the water out.

“Yaket tubais, Jarod. Tenta?” He offers me some.

“Uh, no, no thanks, it’s quite alright.” I wave it away, rather disgusted. He just laughs at me and shrugs, picking up a steaming leaf in between his long, curved claws and blowing on it. When he puts it in his mouth, I can’t help but cringe. I don’t think I’ll be kissing him again after this, that’s for sure.

__

That morning, I wake up to his soft kisses all over my chin and cheeks. We had fallen asleep in each other’s arms and now I open my eyes to the beautiful, soft glow in his. “Lolen-dai, yar yaon.” He whispers lovingly next to my ear when he sees me stir.

“Lolen-dai yourself, beautiful.” I smile, stroking his hair. He smiles back at me, the sunlight in his eyes dancing gleefully. “I’ll learn your language yet, Bola. You just watch.” I begin to laugh and he goes to tickle my sides. We flip around and wrestle a little on the bed, which leads to more fooling around.

A little later, we go down to the lobby for breakfast. There’s a large buffet, with all sorts of breakfast foods. I show him how to take a tray and slide it down, taking only what you want. He takes only bread and fruit. When he sees the ham, bacon and sausage trays, he holds his mouth, turning away in utter disgust. I take him to a table and sit down with him. He glares at the food on my tray and then on his. I pick up a piece of bacon with my fork and go to put it in my mouth, when he stops my hand by the wrist. “Ishtah, Jarod!”

“What, what’s wrong?”

His eyes narrow at me in almost a hurtful shock. “Yawen faun.” He points to the bacon.

“Wait…yawen…thank…you want me to thank my breakfast?” I chuckle and he crosses his arms, obviously insulted.

“Pai. Yawen faun. Nesh Yaonis yawen yari tubais. Ti yawen hau tubais, Jarod.” His tone is stern and angry.

I put my hand up in resignation. “Okay, okay, yawen ti, dear pig. Happy?”

“Pai.” He nods, his arms still folded. “Eneshtai.” He smiles and glances down at his plate, putting his hands on either side of it, mumbling what sounded to be a small prayer. Only after he allows for a short silence afterwards does he finally eat. This was going to be a long day, I somehow knew it.

Shopping is a whole new ballgame, I discover. Bola is far too curious for his own good and tends to touch and play with things he shouldn’t. The worst part is, it’s difficult for me to explain what things are and how they work, but I’m picking up more of his language as the day goes on. He seems to be better at recognizing my body language and tone of voice than he is at recognizing my words. By the end of the day, we seem to be able to communicate slightly better than we had the day before. I also notice something else about this quaint little town. There are a lot of same sex couples walking the streets hand in hand openly around here, and a lot of the local men are rather effeminate. In fact, Bola and I walked arm in arm for half the day, and no one seemed too bothered by it. At one point, a man came up to us and commented on what an adorable couple we made. It was at that point, it dawned on me what kind of town this was, and a large part of me didn’t really care.

Sydney taught me a lot of things about the world, but homosexuality was a subject we didn’t touch on much. He explained to me what homophobia was, and that people have actually killed out of hatred for gay people, but Sydney would never answer any of my questions about his personal opinion of them. I never understood why.

I insist he try certain things on at the store, mainly because I want to see him in them, and to see if human clothes fit him properly. When it finally occurs to him what I’m asking, he does it with little reservation. Bola is a very open person and quite comfortable with his body. At first, he begins to change right out in the open.

“No, no, Bola, in there. Here, c’mon, I’ll show you.” I grab him by the arm and lead him into the changing room. He merely smiles and kisses me.

“Hey, if he wants to give us a show, we got no problem with it.” The store clerk and his friend who he’d been chatting with both bust out laughing. I narrow my eyes at them, fully aware of the fact that their eyes have been glued to my Bola ever since we walked into this dump.

“Wipe your chin.” I frown angrily, turning away.

“Ooh, someone’s jealous.” They chuckle. I suddenly can’t wait to get out of here. A little while later, he comes out wearing these skin-tight black vinyl pants and tight white, long sleeved cotton shirt. He looks good…I mean damn good. The vinyl hugs his succulent hips, accentuating every subtle curve, and the shirt does nothing but cling to his perfect abs and toned chest. The two idiots both perk up when he comes prancing out. “Woohoo!” One of them cheers. “Quite a dish you got there, sweetie. I must say.”

“Shut up.” I growl, snapping my head towards them only for a moment. Bola senses my anger and frowns wide-eyed at me.

“Jarod? “Ti nena?” He spreads his arms wide so I can get a better look at that unbelievable physique of his.

“Yeah, it looks amazing on you.” I force a smile.

His frown deepens. He walks over to me and wraps his arms around me, resting his head against my chest. “Ti mah-swai, yar yaon?” I’d figured that ‘yar yaon’ was his pet name for me. It probably means, ‘my sweet’ or something like that.

“I’m fine. You look great, let’s buy it and get out of here.” I touch his shoulders and nudge him towards the dressing room.

“Nai…ishtah, ishtah!” He laughs, resisting.

“What, you want to wear it out?” I point to the clothing and to the door.

He nods, pointing to the door as well. “Pai, pai…waaar eet ah-woot.” The two stooges chuckle mockingly at his accent. I don’t even grace their idiocy with a glance in their direction. He puts his shoes on and I stuff his old clothing in a bag. I pay for the stuff and we leave quickly. The two stooges wave and wink to Bola and he naively waves back.

We walk up the stairs back to street level and he grabs me suddenly, looking worried. “Jarod, ti fuwa mah-swai?” He gives me a sad glare and a playful frown. I hug him tight and rock him side to side slightly. He giggles and tickles me, then runs off. I shout after him, laughing and chasing him down the street.

The best part about being with Bola is that there’s something about him, something wholesome and comforting. It’s like when I’m with him, I don’t feel so alone anymore. I know that even though we don’t speak the same language, we share the same pain, and I appreciate that more than he could ever know. Me helping him fit in on Earth is merely a small token of my gratitude for the things he’s made me feel.

Speaking of which…the next stop was to get him decent boots, which is proving easier said than done. Many shoes he tries on that actually fit him are too wide for his slender feet. We finally manage to find something halfway decent, and he tells me so by immediately trying to break them in at the shoe store. I end up having to pay for them. Bola is so funny. I buy a pair of socks for him too so he’s not so uncomfortable in them when he walks back to our hotel.

He has to use a bathroom on our way back, so I escort him into one of the many restaurants lining the small sidewalks and wait for him outside. I glance at my cell phone. A large part of me wants desperately to call Sydney and tell him about this new, wonderful love I’ve found. He may work for the organization looking to capture me, but he’s helped me escape their clutches on several occasions and I look upon him as the only real father figure I’ve ever known. Oh, what the hell.

I press the memory button and hit send. A fraction of a moment passes and I hear a cell phone ring in the distance. Oh God, not now.

“Twitch.” An all-too-familiar female voice rings out from behind me. I hear the clicking sound of a gun barrel being cocked back.

“Why, Miss Parker, fancy meeting you here.” I grin as several Center Sweepers surround me. Sydney himself walks around to look me in the face with a comforting smile. I shut my cell phone off with one hand as I raise my arms slightly.

“Hello again, Jarod.” He nods, that gruff British accent heavy on his raspy voice.

“Sam, search him and cuff ‘im. You’re coming with us, inviso-boy.” Miss Parker huffs through gritted teeth. She’s really the person in charge of recapturing me, Daddy Parker’s orders. Her old man is one of the big cheeses at The Center and uses her for all she’s worth, playing on her endless trust for him like a harp, and after all this time and all he’s done to her, she still doesn’t want to see it. She’s hard, cold and unforgiving on the outside, but underneath is a hurt, scared little girl who once gave me my first kiss, and she knows I know that. And it makes her furious.

Two of the Sweepers frisk me right out in the open. I see the frightened and confused faces of the people around me as Miss Parker walks around to point the gun proudly in my face. For almost two years, she’s dreamed of this moment. Suddenly, all I could think about was poor Bola, who will come out of that Bistro any moment to find me like this.

That thought was cut short by a high-pitched humming sound. Bola suddenly appears…from thin air immediately in back of Miss Parker, holding what looked to be a hi-tech gun at her temple. All three Sweepers jump back in surprise.

“Twitch.” Bola repeats with gritted teeth and an angry tone. Bola’s gun doesn’t look like a traditional gun, it’s bigger, bulkier and more intimidating, but from the look and the sound of it, I doubted very much that it shot bullets. It’s probably an energy weapon of sorts. The kind of weapon The Center would love to get their grimy paws on.

Miss Parker merely smiles and squints her eyes at me. “Somebody found a new playmate, I see.” She retorts spitefully. I can see the muscles in Bola’s hand tense as his grip on the gun tightens. He presses the short, squared barrel into her temple harder.

“Nai, Bola. Ishtah!” I call out to him. The last thing I wanted was for him to turn Miss Parker’s head into a fine pink mist. “Get the hell out of here!”

He ignores me, but Sydney glares at me intently. “Jarod, what language is that?”

“I have no idea, but it’s the one he speaks.” I glance around nervously at all the guns being pointed. I had to find a way to end this without bloodshed.

“Zegrait si-yek Jarod!” He hisses at Miss Parker, digging the barrel into her head, making it abundantly clear that he has no quarrels about splattering her brains all over the sidewalk. From his skill, one could see he was a tough and able warrior who’s probably taken many lives in the past.

“What the fuck is he talking about?” She groans, acting as casual as she would without a strange alien weapon shoved into the side of her skull.

“Zegrait hamek!” He pauses, getting noticeably frustrated due to the language barrier. “BLADOOK!!” He yells into her ear. She flinches.

“Bola…please…calm down, okay? We’re cool. Everything is okay.” I plead with him to retain his composure. Now is not the time for him to lose control and just start blasting people. He knows exactly what’s going on. He’s not an idiot. He knows these are the people who are after me.

“Bola.” Sydney chimes in, which makes him pause. “I think I understand what you’re trying to say. You want us to let him go. Am I right?”

“He doesn’t understand you, Sydney.” I glance around again. Thankfully, the Sweepers are holding their position.

“Sorry, pal. It ain’t happening.” Miss Parker smirks cockily. “It looks like you and your new friend here are outnumbered and outgunned. Jarod, I suggest you tell your friend to come to his senses before my guys make him into Swiss fucking Finlandia. Capisce?”

I glance at Sydney and he gives me a helpless look in return.

“Excuse me, guys…I hope I’m not interrupting anything here, but can anyone tell me what the hell is going on?” Two local policemen come walking out of a cop car towards us. We’re all distracted for a brief moment. When I look at Miss Parker again, Bola’s gone. It doesn’t take long for everyone else to notice. Miss Parker curses loudly and tells off the two cops for getting in her way. I suddenly feel Bola bear hug me tightly, even though I can’t see his arms around me, I can feel them. When I glance down at myself again, I can’t even see myself.

“Ya-oosh…” a barely audible whisper wisps past my ear. I feel him gently nudge me to the side.

“What the fuck?? How did he just vanish??” Miss Parker rakes her hair back frustratingly, waving her gun around where I was. “They couldn’t have gotten far, guys, spread out!” She takes another good look around and screams. “SHIT!!”

The bag with Bola’s old clothing gets picked up by Sam the Sweeper and taken back to the car. Alright, whatever, better the clothing than us. At least Bola still had his chest belt that held all his gadgets. That was one thing he refused to be without. I had a hard enough time convincing him to leave his bo-staff back at the hotel.

We wait there against the brick wall of the restaurant pressed up against each other, unable to breathe. They scatter like roaches, passing right by us. After a while of yelling at the police and threatening to make them meter maids, they finally get in their black Sedan. Sydney looks at where we were…scanning the immediate area. His gaze falls on me and for a moment, I could SWEAR he sees me….but he merely chuckles and gets into the passenger seat. I can barely make out Miss Parker’s furrowed face, chain smoking in the driver’s seat, even through the heavily tinted windows. They drive off and it takes us a while before we can breathe normally again. He turns me around and hugs me tight, making himself visible again. He quietly takes me into the restaurant and into the bathroom. He wraps his arms around me, kissing me comfortingly. I can’t say a word, I’m too busy shaking like a leaf. That was too close for comfort. How did they find me so fast? Was I getting sloppy?

“Ti mah-swai, Jarod??” His eyes threaten tears. “Ti mah-swai, yar yaon??” He showers my face with soft, comforting kisses and I hug him tight.

“Pai.” I exhale. “Ti?”

“Fey ser yaket.” He smiles warmly, caressing my face with both hands.

“Thank you, Bola…thank you so much.” He smiles slightly when I say this, not quite knowing those words yet. “Thank you…yawen ti.”

“Thh…thannnk yooo.” He grins wide, repeating me. “Thank you.”

“Heh heh…you’ll learn.”

Afraid to venture back to our hotel room quite yet, we hide in the men’s room for a little while. I begin teaching him the English version of the words I know in his language. His accent is questionable, but he’s a quick learner. I even teach him a few words that I can define through motion, like run, jump, eat, drink, stop, that sort of thing. I even teach him a few names for body parts and objects.

He teaches me one more important thing. ‘Yar yaon’ doesn’t mean ‘my sweet’, it means ‘my love’. I assume that because his race’s name, Yaonis was similar, it meant ‘the love people’, or ‘the lovers’ or some variation.

About forty minutes later, someone walks in and demands the use of the bathroom. We were officially kicked out. I come up with a plan to retrieve our things safely. I wait outside the hotel, crouching down on the rocks while Bola uses his watch gizmo to make himself invisible. He sneaks up and checks for anyone hanging around. A little while later, he comes back, my duffle bag and laptop securely in hand. If he had taken much longer, I’d have gone up after him. We take the short walk into town and sit by one of the many shoes on large rocks leading to the ocean.

“Jarod?” He frowns. “You…benait?” He puts his fists next to his eyes.

“Yes, I’m sad.” I put my arm around him and we sit watching the sunset together. “But I’m glad you’re alright.”

“Fey ser mah-yeh.” His frown deepens and he gives me a sorrowful look.

“Are you saying you’re sorry, Bola? Aw, what are you sorry about? You saved me back there, I owe you everything.” I kiss him deeply and he wraps his arms around me.

“Fey ser mah-yeh, my love.” He repeats. His pronunciation is getting better.

“That means ‘I’m sorry’. Right?”

“Ahh-yeem sorry.” He gives me that same, wide-eyed sorrowful glare. I smile and kiss him. “You stop run, Jarod.”

“I can’t, they’ll catch me. You don’t understand…”

His expression turns more serious. “I run, Jarod. I…” He squints and struggles with his speech. “Unner-sayan.”

“Un-der-stand.” I smile, pushing a tuft of hair behind his ear.

He sighs. “I…unnder-staaa-eend.” He suddenly looks frustrated, like he wants so desperately to tell me what’s going on with him, and he simply can’t.

“Who’s looking for you, Bola? Who?” I try to relay my words with body language the best I know how.

After a while of watching me, he finally states, “Proxidas.” I instantly recognize it as a name. It sounds so different from any other word in his language. He says it with hatred and contempt. “Zai-groosh-tah.” He motions that there are probably many of them.

“These Proxidas…are they also Yaonis?”

“Yaonis…no, nish yam ban.” He holds up one finger, then two.

“Okay…one or two of them.” I mumble more to myself than him. “Are they strong? Bola…look, strong?” I make a muscle.

He laughs at my question. “Yes, yes, strong.” He grabs my arm and chuckles. “You strong, Jarod.” His smile fades suddenly. “Proxidas dey-af strong.”

“Do the Proxidas know you’re here?” I point to him and then motion around us.

He glares at the water for a few moments, looking like he’s about to cry. “I no…fey nai meneh.” He whispers, his face still turned away. I assume that means he doesn’t know. I don’t ask any more questions, I just hold him and watch the remainder of the beautiful sunset with him right where he should be…in my arms.

__ __

We rent another room at a nearby bed and breakfast for the night. The bed is rather large and really comfortable. We don’t jump on it, we’re both too tired from the day we had. Bola lies on top of me, kissing me deeply. My hands explore his sensuous body from underneath his new clothing. I still can’t get over how good he looks in vinyl.

“I love you.” I exhale as he begins licking my neck. And I mean it, with all my heart. He giggles and rolls over pulling me on top of him. My hands still exploring his body, I begin pulling off his clothes. As tired as I am, I’ve been staring at his form all day in that outfit and now I needed to see him out of it. I yank his pants down and his fully erect cock bounces out, staring me right in the face. I begin kissing and licking it, and he moans, massaging my scalp with the tips of his slender fingers.

“Uh, Jarod…yes.” He groans, bucking his hips against my face, urging me to take it in my mouth completely. How can I deny such a lovely creature? I lace my fingers with his as I engulf his cock, taking it as deeply into my mouth as I can. I take it about halfway before the prospect of gagging makes me flinch and withdraw. “I love you.” He repeats, but it’s the way he pushes his head back, closes his eyes and whispers it into the air softly…that’s what makes me believe it. He looks down at me and there’s a look in those beautiful eyes of his, the look of love, lust, desire, genuine caring and everything in between. If I wasn’t so out of my head with desire myself right now, looking into those eyes might have made me cry.

I swallow his cock again, trying to show him the same expertise he showed me last night. When I gag on it again, he smiles at me and pulls me back up on top of him. He kisses me, pushing that sweet, sensuous tongue past my lips. Our tongues dance feverishly and my hands roam all over his taunt, sweaty body. He wraps his arms around my neck and his legs around my waist. “I just can’t seem to get enough of you, you know that?” I mumble against his lips, grinning fiercely. He flicks his tongue sensually over my lips and giggles.

“Fey tenta ti kai muyan.” He gives me a mischievous smile and suddenly flips me over onto my back. Once again, his sheer strength astounds me. I start chuckling, feeling like a ragdoll in his arms, like he could pretty much make me do anything he wanted. He grinds his pelvis against me, slowly lowering himself so that he is level with my ass. My eyes suddenly widen, realizing what he wants.

“Bola, no, stop, I don’t…I mean, I’ve never…” I grab his shoulders, slightly panicked.

“Ya-oosh.” He smiles down at me warmly, kissing the corners of my mouth. “I love you.” He brushes my hair back at the temple soothingly. I let out a shaky sigh, watching him lower himself on me, kissing his way down my chest an stomach. “Ya-oosh.” He repeats in a whisper, smiling broadly, kissing lightly over my stiff cock from top to bottom, then over my balls. When he finally gets to my ass, he closes his eyes and grabs a cheek in each hand, parting them gently, sliding his warm tongue onto it, making me gasp. The tip of his tongue teases around the sensitive pink ring as his palms massage my cheeks seductively. I close my eyes and begin to relax, grabbing two handfuls of the sheet on either side of my legs.

“Ugh…God, that feels surprisingly good!” I had never even imagined doing something like that, but here he was, making me melt with ecstasy as always. Bola never ceased to astound me. His hot tongue ravages my asshole, plunging into it deeper, gripping my cheeks and forcing them apart to allow easier passage. I take a firm hold of my own rigid cock and he swats my hand away playfully.

“Nai.” He tears his mouth away for but a mere moment before returning to his efforts. I lift my hips up off the bed and hold my own ass cheeks open for him, really, really starting to enjoy this. “Mmmmm.” He moans, plunging his long tongue in and out of me forcefully, milking a series of raspy, heated gasps from my throat. I’m so distracted from what he’s doing, that it takes me a while to realize that he’s leaving a pool of saliva in there and adding to it with each thrust of his tongue. His finger gradually replaces his tongue, and before I know it, the flat of his finger is rubbing up against my ass and I want nothing more than to have him shove it into me.

“Oh, Bola…alright, you win…please, I need you!” I find myself crying out to him shamelessly, still spreading my own ass cheeks wide. He continues to tease my pucker with the flat of his index finger, rising onto his knees, looking down at me. Those stunning, exotic eyes of his darkened and glazed slightly with increasing lust. He leans over and kisses me, and I accept his tongue into my mouth greedily. He tears away and sits up, glaring down at me with a mischievous smirk. “Take me, Bola, that is what you want, isn’t it?” I huff and pant, growing frustrated at his amused silence. He merely licks his lips, grabs my thighs and grinds the shaft of his cock in between my ass cheeks, making me want it all the more. “You bastard…you want me to beg for it, don’t you?

He doesn’t reply, he merely closes his eyes and throws his head back slightly with a slight, erotic moan. His cock pulses and throbs as he rocks his hips against my ass. “Ti refai-yem yaket…” He murmurs softly under his breath. Something tells me he was making a comment about how good I feel. A sudden jolt of arousal renews my desperation and I sit up slightly to grab his hips, pulling him into me.

I glare into his playful eyes with a serious, frustrated expression and huff through gritted teeth. “Just fuck me, damn you!”

“Ai, Jarod!” His eyebrow arches and his smile lengthens considerably. He apparently likes this aggressive side of me. He grabs both of my legs and yanks them back towards my chest, forcing me flat on my back once again. He lines the head of his cock with the opening of my ass, and a surge of nervousness comes over me, and without thinking, I grab his wrist apprehensively. “Ya-oosh.” He whispers with a comforting, gentle smile, drooling liberally all over his length. He soothingly nudges my hand away from him and begins rubbing the lube into my ass with the head of his bloated cock.

“Bola, please, be gentle?” I shut my eyes tight. He responds by taking a firm hold of my aching, tortured member and stroking it lightly, teasingly. My face softens at this and I let out a muffled grunt. He runs his palm over the sensitive crown, teasing his slender fingers up the shaft and letting more drool cover my cock so it will be as slick as my now welcoming ass. He begins pushing into me, never letting up with his hand on my dick for a moment. It burns a little, and it takes me a while to get used to being stretched out that much, but he’s doing a good job and keeping me preoccupied. I cry out and push my head back into the pillows, both my hands gripping desperately onto his broad shoulders.

The more I take of him, the less of an effort this becomes and the more I allow myself to enjoy it. It’s a while before he’s completely within me, and I swear, I never thought I could feel this full, this stretched out. Now completely impaling me, he rests his pelvis against my ass, quickening his strokes on my engorged penis, holding his hips still, letting me get used to his size. “Mmm…” He groans seedily, licking his lips and knitting his brows. A single blue-tinted pearl of sweat crawls past his temple and down the side of his face. He withdraws only slightly, pushing himself all the way into me again.

“Ugh! Oh my God!” That stroke was nothing but pleasure. The burning was still there slightly, but it was as if I was discovering a whole new world of pleasure that was right there for the taking, and I just now had the courage to reach out and grasp it. And it took entrusting this beautiful, enchanting creature to show it to me. He withdraws about halfway and does it again. I let my eyes roll back in my head and cry out in pure bliss. He continues to pump my meat, which is the absolute hardest it’s ever been.

“Ahh…blarx!” He cries, thrusting in and out of me, creating a slow, smooth rhythm. The more he thrusts, the less it burns, and the more I feel like I’m ascending on some holy staircase to my own personal heaven. I buck my hips against him, meeting his thrusts with growing vigor, pulling him into me with my legs.

“Oh yeah! Fuck me, Bola…I need you so bad, fuck me!” I gasp, pulling him closer, urging him to quicken the pace. He does, but not nearly as fast as I’d like. My grip on his hips tightens and the look in my eyes becomes meaningful. If it worked once, it will work again. I thrust against him hard, urging him to become rougher with me. He’s treating me like a porcelain doll and I can’t stand it. “C’mon, baby, fuck me like you mean it!” I grit my teeth, hoping my aggressiveness will egg him on. He doesn’t get it, though, and keeps up the same maddening, torturous rhythm. He pushes my legs back further and now eases his huge member into me in long, smooth strokes. I cry out and beg for more, digging my nails into his hot, sweaty flesh.

I can feel myself getting close to completion, and for a moment, I study his tensed face and find that he doesn’t look to be far off either. There’s also an obvious apprehension there, like he wants desperately to ravage me, to let loose and show me the full extent of his sexual prowess, but he won’t. Maybe because he’s afraid he’ll break me, or maybe because it’s my first time and he’s trying to be gentle, but I want him to stop, and there’s really no way I can communicate that to him. Just then, I get an idea.

Without a word, I nudge him to stop, and his eyes widen dramatically. I smile reassuringly and try to flip him over. His eyes dart around in misunderstanding, but I take it upon myself to slide him out of me.

“Ti mah swai??” He grits his teeth, a bit panicked. I answer him by flipping him over onto his back. His brows knit in confusion, but then relaxes a little when I climb on top and grab his cock, aiming it over my loosened ass. “Ah.” He smiles and helps me stuff it back in. It feels different from this angle, and the burning is back somewhat, but I’m still so close to cumming that I don’t care. He grabs my dick again and resumes pumping it with a tighter grip.

I get back into that smooth rhythm again, slowly but surely picking up the pace. “If you insist on treating me like a delicate little boy, then I’m just going to have to show you how much of a man I am!” I grunt through gritted teeth, my thrusting now beginning to exceed what he had before. Bola hisses through his teeth and gives me a worried look, supporting my back with his raised knees and my ass with his free hand. Before I know it, I’m riding him so hard, that I can feel his cock his something inside me that makes me reel with pleasure. He thrusts back into me, his brow now drowned with sweat. “This…is how…you fuck…a MAN!” I gasp and groan out loudly as I impale myself completely onto him with each wild stroke. He slams his hips up, spearing his hot meat into me, crying out in his own language. He’s finally starting to get the idea.

“Agh!! Ai, BLADOOK!” He shuts his eyes and throws his head back, ramming himself into me. Suddenly, my canal is flooded with his white-hot jizm, and I moan loudly as he hits that spot again, sending me over the edge as well. I roar out in pleasure, grabbing the fist that’s working my cock and jerking myself off wildly with it, shooting my own cum all over his face and chest. We pump out the last of our juices out and I sit down completely on his cock, panting and moaning as his hot sperm comes leaking out and all over him.

“Ugh…oh, Bola…that was absolutely amazing…” I slump a little bit when he lets go of my cock and reaches up to dab the tip of his tongue to his cum-soaked knuckle.

“Mm." He grins playfully.

I slide off of him slowly, the burning pain now coming back in full force. “You're weird." I giggle, grunting from the pain.

“Ti mah-swai?” He tilts his head and widens his eyes, taking another taste of my cum.

I smile despite myself and shake my head. “I'm fine, it'll go away. C’mon, let’s go clean up.”

“Soo-im?” He makes the swimming gesture from before.

“No, no, clean up. C’mere, I’ll show you.” I lean him into the bathroom and teach him the artistic merits of a shower. He enjoys it thoroughly, especially when we get to soap each other up. We fool around a little, but we’re both far too tired to go another round. Afterwards, we partially redress and go straight to bed.

He quickly falls asleep in my arms and I just lie awake and study his gorgeous features. His long, blue lashes, brushing up against his soft cheeks as he flutters them slightly while dreaming, that luxurious, dampened silvery-blue hair spilt all around him, that adorable nose, those intriguing pointed ears, those luscious, perfectly-defined pink lips, and he’s all mine. His brows knit suddenly, and he begins tossing and turning.

“Bola,” I whisper, hoping to rouse him before his dream becomes too frightening. “Bola, wake up, baby. You’re having a bad dream.”

“Nai…” He mumbles almost inaudibly. “Teyat…teyat …vunai…” Tears stream down his temples and he absently waves his arms around defensively.

“Bola!” I shake him awake almost violently. His frightened eyes dart open and he jerks into a sitting position with a yelp. I grab him and hug his shaking form tightly.

“Vunai! Teyat vunai, Jarod!” He sobs in my arms and I just hold him. “Fey ser leyanuk! Fey ser leyanuk!” He cries those words over and over and I wish to God I understood them.

__

“This is Sydney.” He answers, picking up his cell phone.

“I didn’t think you’d still be up.” I glance in at Bola, sound asleep after his little hysterical episode. I didn’t know what else to do, where else to turn.

“Jarod.” He sounds pleased, as always to hear from me. “That was an amazing stunt you and your new friend pulled on us today. Miss Parker is still cursing about it.”

“Sydney, I need your help.” My voice cracks from emotional strain.

“You sound really upset, Jarod, is everything alright? Is it about your friend, Bola?”

“Yes, Sydney, he’s being hunted by people who call themselves Proxidas. Have you ever heard of them?”

“I’m afraid not. Tell me about Bola, Jarod. Where is he from?”

“I can’t tell you that, you wouldn’t believe me. Besides, I’m not wholly sure myself. I just know he’s been separated from his family just like me and I need to help him. The problem is, there’s a serious language barrier there and I’m afraid whoever these Proxidas are, they’re going to find him soon.” I speak in harsh whispers, pacing the hallway restlessly, back and forth.

“Maybe they hunt him for a reason, Jarod. Maybe Bola did…something wrong. Just how much do you know about this new friend of yours…especially if this language barrier is as serious as you say it is?”

“We may not be able to communicate that well, but we’re learning bits of each other’s language quickly. And besides…I know him. I mean, I feel what a good person he is inside and I just know he wouldn’t do anything wrong.”

“You know, Jarod. Sometimes we think we know people and we turn out to be wrong in the end. Some of us learn that the hard way. If I can, I’d like to spare you that fate.”

I pause for a moment. “Well, I don’t care if he did do anything, because they’re not touching a hair on his head while I’m around.”

“You’ve grown quite attached to him, haven’t you?” I can almost hear him smile.

“More than you know, Sydney. More than you know.”

“That’s quite a normal reaction, Jarod. You’ve spent your life in isolation and you feel you have to overcompensate with your first real long-term friendship. Just remember that whoever these Proxidas are, they may not be something you should be trifling with.”

“You don’t get it, Sydney. He didn’t know what he was trifling with when he protected me against you and the Sweepers. He wasn’t afraid for his welfare, only mine. He’s willing to travel with me, Sydney, I don’t have to be alone anymore, I can be with him.”

He sighs. “Just please be careful, Jarod. I saw the gun he had at Miss Parker’s head, and if these Proxidas are even remotely on the same technology level, they might make The Center’s Sweepers look like a bunch of cub scouts. Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

I chuckle. “I promise, and I thank you for the endearing concern, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned from nearly two years of eluding you guys, it’s that I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” I hang up, folding the phone and walking back into the bedroom.

There he is, soundly sleeping; my beautiful love. I climb back into bed with him and he instinctively rolls over into my arms, resting his head on my chest. For the first time since I can remember, I don’t feel alone; and I sleep like a baby.

__

“We have to be smart about this, Bola.” I tap my head, turning back to the state map spread out on the table.

“Smart.” He smiles and repeats me, digging into his fruit and grain breakfast.

“They’re going to have Sweepers posted at the bus station, all major highways leading out of Provincetown, and if they’re really on the ball, they’ll be listening in on all the taxi radio broadcast channels. So what we have to do is find a gypsy cab, take it to a nearby town and catch the bus from there.” I look up at him and he smiles at me warmly.

“Smart.” He taps his head.

I laugh and smack the table. “How’d you get to be so cute, Bola?”

He laughs with his mouth full. “Hoooh Sydney?” He states suddenly.

“Sydney? Hmm…how do I describe Sydney?” I hold my hand out. “Let me see that picture thing you have.” I point to his chest belt and to the particular compartment. He takes it out and opens it for me, and the picture of his family comes up again. I point to the large man with the long green braid. “Sydney.”

“Ah!” He marvels. “Sydney hau Penait!”

“Well, sort of. It’s hard to explain. Say ‘father’. Penait…father.” He does so with some difficulty. “Hau…probably means your, like yar means my.” I get him practicing on his English while I ask the waitress for the check. Before catching a cab, I take him to the drug store and pick up a few children’s picture books and blank notepads. I also pick up a backpack for him to put it all in, as well as the change of clothing I got him. As we walk out, I test him by pointing to something he’s already learned the name of. He doesn’t do as well as I’d hoped, but he does well enough for only a day and a half’s worth of study.

“Water.” He frowns.

“No, Bola, chair.” I can’t help but laugh.

“Chair-chair-chair….” He knocks himself in the head with his knuckles.

“Hey, it’s okay, you’ll get it.” I lace my fingers with his. I hail one of the few loitering gypsy cabs waiting outside a small clinic. We get into the back seat and I ask him to drive us to Boston, handing Bola one of the books to look over.

“Sorry, buddy, I normally don’t go out that far.” He arches a brow suggestively.

I sigh, pulling out my wallet. “How about for three hundred bucks?”

“Sit tight, brother.”

__

We head out to Boston, and I begin contemplating if it might be best to take a plane rather than a bus. He begins practicing his English with one of the books I’d bought. He takes out one of the blank notepads and starts scribbling all these odd-looking glyphs inside. He gives me the book and points to one of the glyphs.

“Fey yaon ti.” He bites his lip.

I kiss him on the forehead and smile wide. “I love you too, Bola.”

“No, no, Jarod…see write. Fey yaon ti.”

“I know, I’m just saying it back.” I chuckle.

He smiles and glances out the window wondrously. “Tembas.” He blinks a few times, watching all the differently colored trees as we speed by. We pass a rather large one and he follows it with his eyes, turning all the way around to stare out the back window. All of a sudden, he stops laughing and what little color is in his face drains completely. “Bladook!” He whispers harshly. I glance back as well and see a familiar black sedan trailing our cab. Son of a bitch.

I turn around and glare at the driver, and if there wasn’t a steel gate in between us, I’d be ringing his neck right now.

“Bola…”

“Ya-oosh.” He cuts me off, turning to sit extremely close to me, unstrapping his watch and putting it on me. He reverts back to his natural, large-eared form. He opens the watch and makes me invisible. The moment I disappear, the cab screeches to a halt.

“Bola, I can’t just leave you here--”

“Ya-oosh!!’ He cuts me off again as the sedan pulls up in back of us. Sam the Sweeper, Sydney and Miss Parker get out, guns in hand and approaching fast. Bola opens the door, turns to me and barks, “Run!” then darts out, heading for the trees on the side of the road for cover. Miss Parker starts shooting and just as he makes it to the trees, I hear him yelp in pain and fall into the dry leaves.

“Where the hell is Jarod??” She shouts. I get out of the car and run towards him. The cab driver gets out too and draws a gun, walking slowly over to where I was.

“He’s gone, Miss Parker, I’m sorry.”

“Keep looking, it’s probably just an illusion or something. He’s still around here somewhere, I can feel it. Go take care of monkey boy in the bushes.”

I get to the bushes before they do. At first, all I see are scattered pools of thick pink blood. It looks like he’s dragging himself deeper into the foliage. “Bola!” I whisper harshly. I hear his labored breathing close by. I couldn’t let them get him. I finally find him, using a tree to help himself get up. He’s been shot in the thigh and he’s bleeding badly. He draws his gun when I step on a patch of dry leaves. He aims the gun right at me.

“Drop it, asshole.” Miss Parker’s voice rings out from immediately behind me. Both parties have their guns aimed at me and they don’t even know it. “My god, what the fuck are you??” She diligently adds. Sydney and Sam come up on either side of her blocking him off from the back. Bola has nowhere to run.

“He looks like some sort of elf.” Sam gives a sideways smirk, looking him up and down.

“No, what he is, is a freak. And right now he’s a freak who’s pissed me off.” She grits her teeth and cocks the hammer back.

“Bier-meck, nagutai!” Bola snarls, spitting on the ground defiantly. For a few moments, they stand off. I realize Bola is trying to buy me time to get away, but I’d never leave him, especially not to these monsters.

“Bola, where is Jarod?” Sydney chimes in, breaking some of the tension.

“Jarod…” Bola huffs angrily. “No Jarod. Jarod no here.”

“You little liar! We saw him get in the car with you!” Miss Parker hollers at him. “Now tell us where he is or so help me, I’ll fucking kill your little alien ass!”

“BIER-MECK!” He screams at her, his voice straining painfully.

“Bola, listen to me! My name is Sydney, I know you were told about me. We don’t want to hurt Jarod, we only want to--”

“Sydney?! You no Sydney!” Bola interrupts, insulted and angry. “Sydney Jarod father! You Sydney, Jarod no run!”

“Oh, I am sooo fucking sick of this…” Parker gripes.

“Is that what he told you?” Sydney laughs softly, meaningfully. “Bola, I’m not Jarod’s father. Jarod doesn’t know his father.” Bola stands there, moving his mouth but not speaking, he merely stares at Sydney with a hurtful expression.

“Jarod…no…” He trails off.

“He lied to you, monkey boy. Get it? You know what a lie is??” Miss Parker snorts mockingly. In response, Bola points the gun at her and shoots. Bam, just like that, like her tone was going that step too far.

I leap out of the way the moment that orange light bursts from the barrel. Miss Parker, caught off guard, can’t sidestep fast enough. It clips her arm, a part of a nearby tree and completely incinerates the guy’s gypsy cab. When I hit the ground, my head hits a rock. The last thing I hear is Parker hitting the ground like a ton of bricks, screaming and crying like a banshee. And that’s when my world goes dark.

__

“Ribbit.”

I groan, beginning to come out of it.

“Ribbit” What the hell? I look up and see a frog next to my head. When I blink at it a few times, it flees quickly. I get up, dusting myself off slowly. I’m alone. It’s nighttime. Who knows what they could have done to poor Bola by now. I had to go back to The Center and find him. They probably know I’m coming. They’re probably waiting for me…but I have no choice. I look around and still see red and pink splatters of blood everywhere. Mostly pink, though. I find Miss Parker’s cell phone half-buried in a patch of leaves. I pick it up and try to walk. I’m wobbly. My imagination begins running wild with horrible ideas of what Dr. Raines, Mr. Lyle and Daddy Parker are putting him through. I have to get up and I have to get my shit together. Bola’s depending on me.

__

(P.O.V.- Angelo)

“Get over here, human sponge.” Little girl Parker drags me over and sits me across from him. He’s a strange man, strange looking but his eyes tell me he’s not evil. His eyes also tell me he’s scared, being strapped to that chair, his head all strapped in and stuff.

“He’s angry. He’s scared. He doesn’t understand what’s happening to him.” I say out loud.

I hear a wheeze from Mr. Raines in back of me. “Keep going, Angelo. Look deeper. Who is he? Where does he come from?”

“Not from here. I’m…not sure.” I scratch an itch on my head and bandaged, hurt little girl Parker becomes angry and impatient.

“Keep talking, monkey boy!”

“Jarod is safe, that’s all that matters!” I yell out, beginning to absorb a part of the strange man’s personality. The expression in the man’s eyes changes when I say Jarod’s name. He seems softer, sadder. He misses him. He wishes Jarod were here to hold and comfort him. He…loves Jarod. And he’s also glad they didn’t get him. He hates these people. I’m afraid to tell them all this because they might use it against Jarod. Jarod is my friend. I have to help protect him.

“Jarod’s gone? He just left his friend here for us to capture? That doesn’t sound like him at all, Angelo.” Sydney frowns at me. The man tries to turn toward Sydney and curses angrily against his cloth gag.

“He feels that Sydney betrayed Jarod and hates him most of all.” I frown in return. The man is in pain, cold and tired. Raines tortured him and poked him, knocking him out, stealing a lot of his blood, but the man held fast, remaining strong. He wants to be strong for Jarod.

“Tell us more about their relationship, Angelo. How close are they?” Raines speaks up, muffling a cough. One of the wheels on the oxygen tank he usually wheels around with him squeaks suddenly, breaking the silence of this cold, dark sub-basement.

I look into the man’s eyes. There’s an understanding there. He’s begging me for help with those mesmerizing multi-colored eyes. He knows on some level what I’m here for and he’s begging for my help. “Hard to say. Feelings are so different from human ones. Angelo getting mixed signals.” I lie, hoping to lead them off-track.

“This is pointless.” Little girl Parker sighs.

“Give him more time, Angelo’s only been at this for less than five minutes.” Sydney pleads. “Take the gag off of him, let him hear his voice. That might help.” Raines silently orders one of the Sweepers to remove the gag from the strange bound man.

“I cold.” Is the first thing he says. His voice is hoarse, drained and weak.

“Ah, so you can speak English.” Raines smiles.

The man recoils, afraid. “I learn small.” He exhales, it comes out as a sort of shiver. “I cold.” He repeats.

“Get him a robe or something, for pity’s sake.” Sydney grunts, glaring at Raines. Raines nods at one of the Sweepers and they leave the room.

I stare into his eyes again, really concentrating. “Anger and fear. Anger and fear…so overwhelming.”

He gives me a look like he’s about to cry. “Angelo,” his voice is a whisper. “Teyat vunai.” He pleads.

“What, what did he say?” Little girl Parker shouts, walking around in back of me to face him. “Somebody write what he just said down. Angelo, what did he just say??”

“Man wants… to know why.” I lie. “Man doesn’t understand why you and Raines had to hurt him so bad.” I rake my fingers over my scalp. “So much pain! Tired, Lost! Want to go home!”

“Where. Is. Home?” She draws out her sentence to add more emphasis on its importance.

“Angelo doesn’t know the answers!”

“Freak!” Parker grabs the man’s collar with her good arm. “Where do you come from? What the hell are you??” She shakes him and he shuts his eyes tight. Blue tears fall from his eyes. He’s so very, very frightened. In defense, he goes to bite her arm. She tears it away when he flashes his fangs at her. “Fucking alien freak!” She punches him and a stream of blue and pink leaks from the side of his mouth.

“Bitch!” I can’t help it, I get up and tackle her to the ground. I have more Sweepers on me than I can count so fast, I barely have a chance to blink. They pull me away and Sydney is talking to Raines, trying to get me out of trouble, yet again.

They pull me away and out of the room. I give the man a sorrowful look right before the doors shut in my face. The man understands, and is thankful.

They lock me in my room, but I’m in the ventilation system, back looking in that room in a matter of minutes. I didn’t miss much. The man is still there, more afraid now that I’ve left. Now, he feels completely defenseless. No…wait…not completely. He has a plan, but he can’t do it when everyone’s in the room. He has a trick, but he needs a distraction.

Any friend of Jarod’s is a friend of mine.

I go into one of the offices and trigger the intruder alarm. They’ll be running around thinking Jarod is here. I hustle it back to sub-level 16 and peek in. Feeling secure that they have him tied fast, they leave him in the room alone with two Sweepers while they investigate. Well, he shuts his eyes tight and I hear a wet snap. He yanks one of his hands out of the ropes and slams his thumb down onto the chair, setting the bone back into place. Ouch. He’s out of the restraints just as the two Sweepers make their way over. With amazing skill, he slaughters the fully armed Sweepers with his bare hands in a matter of moments. He then leans against the wall to rest.

“Little strange man, so lost and so lonely…” I whisper to him. He glances up and suddenly, his face lights up beautifully. It’s enough to make me smile too.

“Angelo!” he comes up to the grate and sticks his fingers through. I touch them and begin lifting the grate. He’s halfway squeezed in when more Sweepers come in.

“Holy shit! The alien’s escaping!” One of them shouts.

I yank him through and take off, knowing he’ll be right behind me. They spray the vent down with gunfire, but I turn the corner just in time. He’s slow because of his wound and the pain he’s in, and they hit him once in the leg, once in the back and once in the shoulder. I have to physically help him deeper into the air vent. I hear the commotion of the Sweepers trying to find him. They don’t know I’m here too. We eventually reach the room they’re keeping his hi-tech stuff. I even climb in and get the stuff for him, helping him strap his supplies back on. He collapses on me lifelessly. I can see in his eyes that he doesn’t think he has it in him to go on. “Thank you, Angelo.” He forces a smile laced heavily with pain and exhaustion.

“No, you can keep going, see? You’re fine. Jarod’s coming to save you.” I force him onto his hands and knees, at the very least.

“Jarod…weee-rr…Jarod?”

“Angelo knows, Jarod will be here. He can call him, you know. Stupid little girl Parker lost her cell phone. Jarod’s real smart, he probably found it.”

He smiles, his eyes closed. “Smart. Yes, smart.” He’s leaving a thick trail of warm pink blood behind us as we crawl through the ventilation system. I can’t get him out alone. Jarod can help him. I had to call him. I had to find a cell phone.

We pass by Sydney’s office and I tell the man to lie down and relax. I leave him in the vent and crawl out, going to his desk, looking for anything to use besides the company phone. Everyone knew the company phones were tapped. Just then, Sydney walks in and catches me red-handed. Well, pink-handed this time.

“Angelo! What are you doing here, where’s Bola?” He closes the door and locks it from the inside.

“Little man gone.” I lie, shrugging casually.

He rushes up to me and grabs my collar. “Angelo, this is no time for games! Now, you know me, Angelo. You know I wouldn’t hurt him. Where is he?” I stare at him blankly. “Please, we don’t have much time! Let me help him!”

I slowly and regretfully point up to the vent. There are pink handprints all over the opening. A small, weak voice from inside is calling out, “Vunai…teyat vunai…”

“Little man… crying out for help, Sydney.” He merely glares at me. “Teyat vunai means ‘please help’.” Sydney rushes over to the vent and Bola starts crying out, feeling that I had betrayed him as well. “Sydney, call little girl Parker’s cell phone.”

He turns halfway to face me. “But she lost it at the…” He trails off, understanding crossing his aged features. He immediately slides out his cell phone and pressed a few digits. Moments later, he gasps for breath. “Jarod! Oh thank heavens!”

“Jaaarod……” The voice grows weak and quiet. “Teyat…vunai…”

I grab the phone from Sydney’s hands. “Jarod…your friend says hi.”

“Angelo?? I’m on my way, please, keep him safe!”

“Little man…been shot a bunch’a times. Angelo can’t keep any promises.” I giggle. “Jarod nearby.”

“I’m almost there, how bad off is he?”

“Not good, but he’s a fighter.”

“Yes, he is, and thank you so much, but look, I need you to do me a big, big favor, okay, Angelo?”

“Yes. Jarod is Angelo’s friend.”

“Yes, listen to me…I’m going to tell you exactly how I escaped The Center. I want you to take him through the route I took. When you come out, you’ll be in a small lot outside of Blue Cove. Wait for me there. If I’m not already there when you come out, I’ll only be a few more minutes.”

“Angelo is listening.”

__

It takes both Sydney and I to carry the man through the tunnels. On the bright side, the man doesn’t seem so angry with Sydney anymore. At one point, the man looks up at him and touches the wrinkles on Sydney’s face. “ah-yeem sorry.” He whispers. He barely has the strength to speak normally anymore. I felt terrible about it, but I was doing all I could.

“I don’t blame you for feeling betrayed, Bola. In many ways, you were right about me. If it’s any consolation to you, Jarod didn’t lie when he told you I was his father. I may not be his biological father, but I’m the closest thing to one he’s ever known. And no one feels worse about that than I do.”

That makes me smile.

We make it to the small metal hole that leads out into the wide open field Jarod said it would. Jarod is right there to help us get the man through. Sydney climbs out after him and stands next to Jarod. I stand inside, peeking my head out at the large van he used to get here.

“What took you so long??” He gripes. He holds the man tightly and the man bursts into tears of joy and relief. “Come with us, Angelo, you’ll be free of this place.” He holds a hand out to me.

I laugh softly and hug myself. “Angelo free.” I rock myself side to side.

“Angelo, please, we don’t have time!”

“You have a lot less than you think.” Little girl Parker shows up, pointing a gun at us.

“Parker, please, don’t do this!” Jarod begs, gripping the man tightly.

“Shut up. I want everyone to shut the fuck up and wait here, because backup will be joining us in a few minutes, so everybody just sit tight.”

They’re so close to being together and happy. Why does little girl Parker have to ruin everything? I climb out of the pipe and begin twisting and dancing toward her.

“Angelo, you little schitzo, don’t think I won’t shoot you!”

“Catherine’s little girl…how proud she must be…” I laugh.

“Shut up!!” She screams. “You know nothing about my mother!”

“Parker, can’t you see Bola’s going to bleed to death? Please, have a little mercy!” Sydney holds his arms out to her.

“The Center is the only place in the world he can get more blood, remember?”

Jarod screams furiously. “He’ll have bled to death before the Sweepers get here. And if you want to kill him, you’re going to have to kill me too. So GO AHEAD!! Go ahead and SHOOT ME, Parker! Because I’m taking him in my van right now and you’re going to have to murder me before I stop- YOU UNDERSTAND ME??”

She’s taken aback by his rage. She knows she can’t do it, I know she can’t do it, but does Jarod know? Does he even care at this point? He takes the man and walks quickly towards the van.

“JAROD!” She screams at him, the gun shaking in her grasp. “I swear to god, Jarod…” He puts the man in the passenger seat, straps him in and puts a watch onto him. The man disappears for a few moments, then comes back looking a lot more human.

“Parker, please…just let them go.” Sydney’s voice is soft and soothing. He’s trying to calm her down. He puts his hand against the barrel and she lowers the gun. She looks like she’s about to cry.

Jarod gets in the drivers seat and buckles up, looking at Sydney and me. “Thank you, thank you so much for his life. Angelo, get in, you’ll be free. I’ll take care of you.”

I’m about to respond and I don’t. Something in the air changes. Something big and bad. I look around nervously.

“What is it, Angelo, what’s wrong?” Sydney’s voice breaks my concentration.

“Something wicked this way comes.” I giggle.

Jarod starts the engine. “Shit! Angelo, I’ll be back for you, I swear!” Just as he steps on the gas, a bright, white flash of light bursts from right in front of his van. He drives right into it, and the van crumbles against it, almost like he hit a three foot-thick metal beam going at 50 miles per hour- the van just wraps around it like it’s made of butter. The light and the dust clear and in its place stands the biggest, scaliest, ugliest alien guy I’ve ever seen. He’s well over nine feet with thick brown scales a big mouth, a long tail and sharp teeth. The thing wears long white robes with odd-looking symbols all over them.

Jarod’s friend, the man jolts up and screams. Not just screams, but lets out a blood-curdling, nightmarish shriek. The large alien thing then reaches right through the windshield and plucks the man right from his seat, through the glass and into the air. His seatbelt snaps like a dry twig. Jarod jumps out of the car and screams at it to leave Bola alone. The thing responds by tossing Jarod a little brown box. He catches it, not giving it much thought.

Only then, does the thing speak. It’s voice is bass and gruntish, and it sounds more like he’s belching than speaking. “Bolaliel Tinjei Whirlwind, you are under arrest for the murder of Proxida Dimneck Rogloy.” We all step back a few paces in utter shock.

“I didn’t do it!!” the man screams, suddenly speaking perfect English. No, not perfect English, it was the box. It’s somehow…translating for us. “I’m innocent, PLEASE, I SWEAR to the HOLY GRAY MOTHER, I DIDN’T DO IT!!” The man thrashes and screams with every last ounce of willpower and energy he has left.

“Young Yaonis, you will cease resisting and return with us to Axiom where you will face sentencing for your crime.” The thing pulls out a nasty-looking pair of arm-cuffs.

“NOOOO!!” The man, in a last ditch effort to get away, pulls this little metal rod from a sheath and screams, “Moon Silver, expand!” And the little metal rod suddenly springs into a much larger metal rod with pointed ends. He thrusts it into the monster, actually piercing it’s thick hide a little, which causes the thing to drop him, and something else from its grasp. Bola lands on the ground hard but gets up quickly, snatching whatever it was the thing dropped and turning to run.

“Run, Bola, get out of here!” Jarod screams after him. Bola pauses, yanking something off the belt and tossing it to Jarod.

“Keep this, my love! As a memory!” He takes off a few steps and falls from sheer lack of support in his legs.

“My love…?” Parker repeats.

The thing regains its composure and realizes something, and its face contorts in shock and fear. “No…” He reaches out towards the man as he activates whatever it was he stole. A bright light engulfs him, surrounding him. “No!”

“Thank you for everything, my friends!” The same burst of light as before occurs again, this time, taking the man with it. And just like that, the man is gone.

We all just stand there for a while, none of us believing what it was we just witnessed.

“Oh no….oh…oh, no.” The thing rants more to itself than any of us.

Three more bursts of light occur around us, and three more aliens, all different shapes and sizes join the first one. All of them have the same white robes.

An odd creature who walks on it’s arms and handles stuff with it’s feet comes walking up. It had a semi-female voice. “Deshro’ok…” Its tone is of mounting anger and disbelief. “What happened? Where’s the fugitive?”

Another, lizard-like with four eyes and fins all over steps forward. “Can anyone tell me what has occurred at this place at a few moments past?” The third, a crude robot with three skeletal-type heads stands and says nothing.

“Who…what…are you people?” Sydney is the first to speak. I hear his voice echo softly in four different languages.

“We’re Proxidas.” The female gets in Sydney’s face. I sense a lot of hostility and violence from her…it. “And we’re here for the Fighter Yaonis kid, so deal him over, burk.” She growls.

“I…err…ahhh…” The large brown one twitches the two fingers on its hand.

“Deshro’ok…don’t tell me. Don’t. Tell. Me. I want you to hold your jaw, you bright, blarxin’ spark. Why? Because I don’t feel like hearing it today.”

The lizard guy speaks up. “Deshro’ok, please tell me not you let him get away…AGAIN…?”

“He…” The thing gulps nervously. “Escaped.”

“Oh, simply divine, Deshro’ok!” The she-alien grunts sarcastically. “And how precisely did that come to pass??”

“He um…thieved my portal.” It mumbles shamefully, scratching its head.

“Oh, you not only lost the fugitive, but you let him take your portal too?” She turns to the lizard. “Tell me why I work with him again….and why I haven’t gutted him yet??”

“Uhhh….” It stammers. “I’m so sorry guys, I really thought I had him this time.”

“I could be vacationing in the Plascada Sector by now, you MUX!” The female walks right up to it and smacks it hard in the head.

“All is right.” The lizard thing states, punching away on some keypad he had around his one forearm. “The outlaw still in Entertainment realm, is he?”

“I don’t know surely, Syxmor. He’s pretty wounded, probably won’t make it much further without medical assistance.” The brown thing adds.

“Great, and if the kid particles, we’ll never know and we’ll spend forever and a Nevkar day trying to find him!” The she-thing hollers.

“Try parallels, we shall start then, while his bio-trail still retains fresh.” The lizard thing nods its head. It looks at the rest of us, a genuine smile creeping across his draconic features. “Forgive our intrusion, we ask. We must go off. Our vocation does demand we so do.”

“Hey, no problem.” Miss Parker breathes rather casually, staring straight at them like she’s mesmerized. The she-creature grabs the big brown thing and three big balls of light are accompanied by a large gap of silence. “Good luck.”

Our attention then is turned to Sydney, who is now the one holding the brown box. Jarod, of course, is gone. Sydney pockets the box and insists that we all make ourselves scarce.

I glance over and spot Jarod hiding in the bushes, holding what looked to be a flat, rectangular piece of metal tightly in his grasp. He’s sobbing quietly, staring at the large black spot on the ground where his love once stood. I’ll bet he misses the man already.

Poor guy.

To Be Continued...

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