Earth (The Invasion Trilogy Book 1) (7 page)

“You know
, I’ve never seen Mattie take an interest in anyone before, not for romantic reasons at least. But she was so sure we had to save you, so sure that we bring you with us.”

I drag my eyes away from Mattie and look at Hank. I’m again confused as to what he is trying to say, but somewhere deep down
, I wonder if maybe she’s just as fascinated with me as I am with her.

“We loaded up the truck with some new clothes.
We grabbed some things for you guys, too.” Mattie’s eyes are on me, suddenly making me feel a bit nervous. I’ve never been around humans like this before. Even when I first woke up, I was only faced with a one-on-one conversation with Mattie and then Hank, who fell asleep quickly. A group setting feels different.

“Good, how about a drink
?” Hank holds up the bottle, and surprisingly, they both look relieved to see it.

Hank grabs two more glasses and fills them up. Just as he hands one to Mattie
, I wonder if this is a test of some sort. Surely they aren’t going to drink poison? Is this meant to be a suicide?

“This is poison
,” I blurt out nervously.

“Well, yeah
, I guess.” Lisa stares at me strangely before shooting the poison back into her throat and holding the glass back out for Hank to refill.

I look at Mattie and bite my tongue when she also swallows the amber liquid.

“God, that tastes awful, but I needed that.” She winces, but soon, she gives me a small smile.

“Why are you drinking this?” I ask them all, feeling out of place.

“Because we’ve had a shit few days and we deserve the escape.” Lisa takes another shot and leans into Hank’s side. He’s quick to wrap his arm over her shoulder.

“Escape?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never gotten drunk before!” Hank gasps, laughing to himself.

“Drunk?” I look back at the amber liquid and recall discussions on alcohol in some of the TV shows
I’ve seen. This is what alcohol tastes like? This is what it is? It’s considered recreational to drink poison?

“It looks like there is another adult in the world that’s as boring as you, Mattie.” Hank tips his glass to her and takes another shot.

“I take my basketball career seriously. I will have plenty of time to get…” she trails off and I see sadness take over. The whole atmosphere changes, and I know that we all realise there probably won’t be plenty of time ever again. “Whatever. Someone needs to be sober enough to drive, so have at it.” She leaves her empty glass on the bar and storms away.

“You shouldn’t bait her like that.” Lisa pokes Hank in the shoulder
, spilling a bit of her drink at the same time.

“I didn’t mean to. I should go after her.” Hank sets his drink down
, but I hold out my hand, stopping him.

“I’ll go
. I don’t much like this drink anyway.” I place down my drink next to Mattie’s empty one and hobble towards the exit, seeing Mattie leaning against the wall outside as she stares up at the sky. The sun has already moved away from overhead; soon we’ll be encased in darkness.

“Is everything okay?” I
gaze at her, holding my breath as her eyes connect with mine. Again, I feel my instincts overwhelming me inside, wanting me to move closer to her and protect her somehow. I’m on a planet that I don’t know, in a place I have no experience, on the outs with my own flesh and blood, and I’m injured. There is no way I should be focusing on anyone else other than myself. I need to figure out a way to get back home. My father doesn’t want me dead, just Ival.

I can’t leave her,
though, and I can’t seem to sentence this planet to be taken by us.

I’m stuck in an impossible place, completely torn inside
. Yet, as I look into her eyes, I feel things I’ve never felt before. I feel beyond terrified, nervous and weirdly on edge. I want to do a million things at once, like wrap my arms around her and taste her lips. I want to touch every inch of her body to know how she feels. I want her warm breath on my skin. I want everything, and I also want to turn and walk back into that bar, away from her.

I’m so far out of my league right now
. I’m sure that won’t ever change, either; not when I’m around Mattie.

Chapter 7

Mattie

It’s too much; he’s staring at me again. I don’t think anyone has looked at me for so long and so deeply. It’s unnerving because I have no idea what he sees. Does he see just a pretty face? Does he see the only female in our small group that isn’t attached to someone else? Does he see an opportunity to have a quick fling as the world ends? Does he see the girl who helped save his life? Or maybe he sees the same thing I see in him—a person torn away from their family, wanting to go home. Maybe he sees himself in me?

“I grabbed some tweezers from the store.” I pull them out of my back pocket and break our eye contact.
I think he just sighed in relief. I know he must be in a lot of discomfort from some of the glass wedged in his skin. Why hasn’t he complained about the pain? Not that I want him to; whiners are the worst, even when they have every right to complain.

“Tweezers?”
He sounds genuinely confused.

“Yeah, to take out the glass.
We can do it now, if it’s bothering you?”

“Take the glass where?”

I stare at him curiously. Is this a language thing, or is this guy going a little crazy?

“Take the glass out of your body. It’s dangerous to leave it in. Your body won’t heal with it still in there
, and it’ll just get more painful and possibly infected.”

“You’re a medic?” He sounds surprised and maybe a little impressed. This guy can’t be for real.

“No, of course not. But it doesn’t take a doctor to know that. Come and lie down in the light. It might have been better for you to be drunk for this.”

“It’s poison; I don’t know why you hum
—why you drink it.”

I roll my eyes. Usually I have to defend the fact that I don’t drink alcohol, and now I’m about to defend the people who do drink it.

“People drink it for all sorts of reasons. To have a good time, to party, just to get drunk, to forget, or even just to be sociable. I’m the first to admit it’s not the best thing to do on a regular basis, but it’s a part of life. And right now, Lisa is right; we’ve had a shit few days and I completely understand the need to forget it, even if it’s only for a short while.”

“So why aren’t you still drinking?”

“I don’t know,” I admit, knowing I probably should want to drink away this situation. Marduke awkwardly moves onto his ass and then lies down along the wooden ground outside the pub. I crouch down beside him and assess the damage.

He
has several small pieces of glass wedged into one side of his face, some along his neck and a lot over his arms. Dried blood trails his shoulder where I pulled out the larger chunk of glass. I move his sleeve up to the top of his shoulder, hoping I was correct in my earlier assessment that he won’t need stitches.

It already appears to be healing, although it would have been great if we could have done this in a bathroom so I could wash the blood away from his skin to see if I’m missing any that are hidden.

I lean close to his face, feeling his eyes on me the entire time as I gently pull out the small shards of glass I can see. We’re close enough that I know he will be able to feel my breath on his skin.

“Do you think you could close your eyes or something? You’re making me nervous
,” I finally say, watching my hand shake a little.

He doesn’t answer me,
yet he does close his eyes.

I try to be gentle, but I’m sure I’m not. A couple times I end up pushing the glass deeper before I can get a good grip on it. Mostly they’re all small
slivers, making my eyes start to hurt from straining them so much.

Then I move down to his neck, finding an old scar along the back. I have no idea what it could be from,
however I decide that is a conversation for another time and keep moving along until I finally make my way to his shoulder again.

“Think you can take your shirt off? It’ll make it easier to see your shoulder.” I lean back on my legs, stretching out my back.

I hear distant laughter from inside the bar, and I imagine Lisa and Hank are probably off their faces by now.

Marduke hesitates; I sense that he’s conflicted about taking his shirt off. I have no idea why, already I can tell that he’s fit.
Before my mind takes me down strange pathways, wondering what his deal is, he shifts his arms and pulls up his shirt, taking it off himself and revealing that he has a vest on under his shirt. I reach out and touch it, feeling that the material is soft and padded. I’ve almost forgotten about the bullet-proof vest I felt earlier, the same one that saved his life back in Vancouver.

“How did you get this?” I ask, again wondering if he’s
in the military perhaps. Although he’s mentioned he was a tourist, and I doubt they hand them out for you to take home, I wonder why he would wear one on a vacation to Canada? It’s not the dodgiest place in the world.

“It is a family… heirloom.”

I have no idea why, but he looks nervous. I’m also pretty sure he has misused the word heirloom since bullet-proof vests haven’t been around long enough to be considered an heirloom. I let it go, though. I have a better view of his shoulder now, and I also see tattoos trailing along the edges of the vest. He obviously has many over his chest, but I can’t see what they are of.

“You have tattoos?” I question, leaning over his arm and getting back to work, hoping he’ll stop being so tense to make this less painful on him.

“Yes.”

“How many?”
I’ve never gotten a tattoo before. Some of my teammates have them, mostly from championships they’ve won, though a couple people have the general butterflies or foreign words. I can’t say I’ve ever felt the need to get one. I think for me to permanently ink something on my skin, it’ll have to be incredibly important to me.

“A lot.”
He still seems nervous, and I wonder if his tattoos are personal for him, too personal for an almost stranger to be commenting on it.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to pry. I’m almost finished here. I’m not hurting you too much, am I?”

“I’m fine.”

I pull out the rest of the glass that I can see, but he really needs to wash away the blood before I can be sure.

“There’ll be a bathroom in the pub, maybe wipe your face and arms and we’ll see if I’ve missed any. Then we should get going. I’m not sure if it’s wise to stay in places like this.”

Marduke nods his head
, indicating that he agrees, and then sets off inside. I follow behind and grab a bottle of coke from behind the bar to drink. Hank and Lisa are making out in the corner, and to be honest, I’m not entirely sure that they would stop there if I didn’t call out to them to let them know we’re leaving soon.

They still keep kissing as though their lives depend on it.

I leave them, going into the dark bathroom, as well, to use the facilities and wash my own face. I don’t know how long we’ll have easy access to running water. Without people to make these things work, I assume everything will eventually just stop.

What will happen to Earth? Will those machines leave once they’ve killed everyone? Or will more come to inhabit the planet? Will Earth be overrun by those things?

When I step out of the bathroom, I first notice Marduke, who is standing by the bar, and then I follow his gaze to the others. Lisa is sitting on top of Hank, their kisses desperate and incredibly over the top. They’re still fully clothed—thank God—but I notice Hank’s hand wandering up the front of Lisa’s t-shirt.

“Did I get it all?” I ask him, looking away from Hank and Lisa
, wondering if I’ve ever been more embarrassed in my life.

“Yes. Are they…
? Should we leave?” he questions, appearing not at all embarrassed; more curious.

“We’re leaving in a second. Trust me,
it’s better they do this here than when we’re stuck in the truck with them.”

“Have you ever done that?” He nods at them
, and I don’t know what he’s talking about. Because it can’t be kissing since everyone has done that by this age, right?

“Are you talking about sex?” I blurt, trying to feel as nonchalant as he appears to be over this conversation.

“That isn’t sex, is it?” He turns to face me and my mouth drops open.

“They’re still fully clothed and they know we’re
around! They’d never do that—wait, you think they’re having sex? You’ve had sex before, right?”

I think I have definitely just overstepped. Surely
, though, Marduke has had sex before. Not only is he attractive with a charming accent, but he’s confident. He doesn’t appear awkward or nervous, at least not about something like this. He’s only awkward with me when our language barrier becomes a problem.

“I’m too young to have children
,” he states like that should be obvious.

“Children?
What?”

“One has sex to have children. I am not to be joined with a mate yet
, and I am not required to produce children until I am older.”

“Okay,” I decide to ignore his awkward translation, “but what about recreational sex? You don’t only have sex for the purpose of having kids.” I’m honestly baffled by this conversation, and so incredibly far out of my comfort zone. I’m also surprised that I’m most likely about to defend something that I never have had to before.
First with the drinking, and now this. Because I’ve also never had sex, mostly because boys don’t interest me. However, I do understand why people do it, and I understand that you don’t just have sex for the purpose of having kids. What planet is this guy from?

“My people
—I see things differently.”

“Obviously.
I’m thinking that’ll be a tune that will change after you’ve had it.” This guy can’t be real.

“You’ve had sex before?” His eyes narrow on me
, looking almost annoyed. Is that because he’s irrationally jealous, or because he thinks I’m tainted or something? Either of those two options for his anger is not appealing to me.

“No, but I think you’re missing the point of it. It’s not just about getting knocked up. It’s about connecting, about feeling good
, and sometimes, it’s about love.”

“How can you know this if you’ve never had it?”

“I don’t know; everyone knows this stuff. You talk to friends who have done it before, or you just watch a movie or TV show to get this. I saw episodes of
Sex and the City
. I’m sure there is a boy equivalent you should have seen by now.” I shrug, noticing the darkening sky, knowing we should leave.

“I’ve never heard it described in such a way.”

“Yeah, well, don’t get any ideas. This,” I wave my hand between us, “is never going to happen.”

I step away from him, nearing the two lovebirds
, and I’m pretty sure I just saw Hank’s hand disappearing inside Lisa’s pants. “Guys, stop! It’s time to go.”

I look back over at the bar,
thinking I’ll need a bucket of cold water to get them apart, but then I hear Hank cursing.

Lisa gets up a little shaky
, having the grace to flush red in embarrassment when she realises the audience they have. “Sorry, we’re ready to go,” she slightly slurs her words. Hank stands behind her, and I hate knowing why he does that.

“You guys can cool off in the back. Marduke and I will ride up front.” I move over to Marduke and let him put his arm over my shoulder. A short hop isn’t too bad, but the truck isn’t that close to here and his knee needs as much rest as he can get.

He’s placed his t-shirt back on, making me wonder again about the vest. I’m positive there is a story behind it, however I don’t want to freak him out by harping on over it. It doesn’t really matter anyway. It doesn’t change our situation.

“We should get food and drinks before we leave here
,” Hank says. I look back to see him stumbling along, definitely drunk. Lisa is better composed, but her eyes are glazed and her face is relaxed.

“We’ll get you both to the car and then Lisa and I will
go get some supplies,” I say, watching Lisa nod at me as she quickly grabs Hank’s arm before he walks into the doorway leading outside.

“Get some booze
. I think we’ll need a lot of it to get through this.” Hank smiles lazily and then drapes his arm over Lisa’s shoulder, putting himself in the same position as Marduke and me except I know he’s letting his entire weight lean onto her.

“Thank you
,” Marduke says to me as I help him into the passenger seat. I leave him with his legs dangling out, knowing he’s watching me walk away.

I then help Lisa out with Hank, hoisting him up onto the back as he laughs his head off at something. Our clothes are packed away on one side of the back in bags
where Hank rests his head on one while trying to grab Lisa with his hand. She scoots away and hops down next to me.

We walk in silence for a few steps before Lisa puts her hand over my arm to halt us.

“What?” I ask distractedly, my gaze already looking ahead to the store we’re about to steal from.