I knew the old lady was bluffing. She wouldn’t get her answers if she shot Jackie, and I was pretty sure she knew I was a bystander in this crazy game. I couldn’t muster much interest for the goings-on anyway, even with a gun pointed at me and the mention of a multi-million deal.
All I could think about was Riane—who had morphed from human to alien in the blink of an eye—and the message she’d given me before she’d dissolved into a puddle of slime, most of which I was still wearing.
—Kill my son.
Not an every day request, although the last whispered words had sounded more desperate than any I’d ever heard. Even if I were to agree with her appeal, I had no idea how I’d go about it. I knew her first name, and that was it.
From the way she’d dissolved, I knew she wasn’t from Earth but I was still a newbie when it came to identifying alien species. Yeah, I’d met more than most of the residents of the third planet from the sun, but it was amazing how full the universe was, let alone our own galaxy.
“Are you listening, Jack?”
“Huh? Sorry.” I look at Jackie, who was trying to send me a message with her eyes. “You’re on your own for that one, sweetie. I got problems of my own.”
I heard twin gasps, from Jackie and from the old broad wielding the gun. Both had their gazes fixed on the center of my body, which was beginning to become heavier. I looked down and gaped too.
Slowly, the goo that had coated me when Riane had melted was reconstituting itself into a head, a torso, arms and legs. In the space of a few seconds, she stood beside me.
“God, I hate when that happens. Now, where were we?” She brushed her hair away from her face. “Ah, yes. There’s this matter of disposing of my offspring.”
M. D. Benoit is the author of the Jack Meter Case Files series and of the SF Thriller Synergy.
Look for her upcoming SF Thriller, Catalyst, this August.
Follow her on Twitter: @mdbenoit2