The Gellboar, Part 2

Here is the second installment of The Gellboar, my forthcoming dark fantasy e-book and podcast.

Part 2

Dan stared at the creature, his wand still poised defensively. With his free hand, he groped for a napkin to wipe at the unpleasant wetness across the back of his neck. Only one kind of alien had tentacles. That was the Gellboar. He’d heard rumors, that they were predators on the other side. Since the Spellwar, they might be involved in any sort of dirty work. Nobody wanted much to do with them. After meeting one, he knew why.

“Did it hurt you?” The other Christine rested her hand on Dan’s shoulder. There was a crackle of charged psais, and she drew back with a gasp. Her eyes, pale blue, ran up and down his body as if she could see through the red satin dress to the padding beneath.

Dan stared back at her. He had thought he was prepared for the moment when someone guessed his secret, but now he stood numb and stupid. The patrons at nearby tables were staring. He had to get away before the manager showed up.

“I’m fine,” he stammered, stepping back. “Fine, thank you.”

Before he could escape, Christine grabbed his arm again. Their eyes were nearly on a level. In a low, hard voice, she demanded, “What’s going on?”

“I don’t… don’t know,” Dan wailed, as if he were a normal, frightened woman. “It wanted me to autograph something, and —”

“Don’t give me that!” she growled, and yanked on his arm to draw him closer. Her accent was very thick now. “I touched you. I felt your psais. Who are you?”

“I’m Christine Cooper. You know that.”

As he babbled out more excuses, a shrill buzzing drowned all other sound. Dan jerked around to see the Gellboar’s broad back disappearing out the fire door.

The announcer came back on the overhead, speaking with obvious exasperation. “Ladies and gentlemen, that is the fire alarm. Please go to the nearest exit, and we’ll all get back to what we were doing just as soon as we can.”

Christine’s glare drilled into him, and she had not let go. Dan swallowed against the dryness in his throat, wondering if she was about to shout his secret to the world.

“We should…” he began.

Her pale eyes narrowed, and her mouth formed a thin line. “Come on,” she ordered, and yanked him toward the kitchen door.

Something scraped underfoot, and his high-heeled shoe slipped. Tottering, Dan broke away and knelt to pick up the parchment the Gellboar had dropped. Before he could get a good look at it, Christine whipped around to grab him again.

“Come on, you!” She dragged him after her.

“Wait!” he protested, but he didn’t fight hard. Whatever happened next, this was one time he didn’t want an audience.

Between the stage and the kitchen was a narrow concrete corridor, bare except for a time clock and rack of punch cards. A low bench lurked beneath the motley assortment of coats on wall hooks. Grumbling cooks and waitresses shuffled from the kitchen and filed toward the exit at the end of the corridor. Dan moved to join them, but his companion hissed in his ear, “Don’t you go anywhere.”

After the buss boy passed, she yanked him in after her.

“Get your stuff,” Christine ordered curtly. “We’ve got to talk.”

As the door slammed behind them, the buzzing of the fire alarm was reduced to a low whine. Dan reached woodenly for his coat and purse. He glanced at the parchment in his hand, and then stuffed it into his purse.

“I’d rather not,” he said firmly in his own voice, a man’s voice. It must have sounded strange coming from a lovely and graceful woman, but his companion paid it no mind.

Christine Cooper whirled to poke his chest with a fingernail painted the same brilliant blue as her brief top. “Don’t be stupid! You’ve got a real problem, pal. What the hells do you think you’re doing?”

She pulled a leather sports bag off the wall and dropped it onto the bench. Staring at Dan, defying him to move, she yanked off her spike-heeled pumps and tossed them in. In their place she put on black canvas shoes, tying the laces with sharp jerks.

The immediate fear of discovery and the Gellboar’s attack was giving way to anger. “I don’t have to explain myself to you,” Dan said. He shrugged on his coat, a threadbare wool duster, and put his purse strap over his shoulder.

“The hells you don’t!” Christine whirled, hands raised. Dan lifted his wand in an answering threat.

“I don’t want any trouble,” he told her. “I appreciate your help back there. Really. But don’t get in my way.”

She did not move, but her voice sounded strained. “Not until you tell me why. Just why? It isn’t against the law to dress up like a girl, but you know the penalty for this.” She tapped the tip of his wand, and he felt a jolt of psais.

Dan twitched the rod upward, breaking contact. “My life is none of your business.”

Christine blew out a breath. “All I have to do is tell the firemen an alien assaulted a human, and there’ll be monitors all over the place. You’d rather talk to them?”

She had to know he didn’t.

“I have no choice,” he answered tensely.

She laughed harshly. “That’s a lie! Of course you have a choice. We all have choices. You chose this.” She gestured to take in his feminine attire.

“I don’t!” Dan stepped toward her, and his high heeled shoes made a sharp report on the barren floor. “Maybe at first I did, but not anymore. My daughter is sick, and her medicine costs more than the rent every month. There’s no other way I could make that kind of money without stealing.”

Christine blinked, and her gaze softened. Dan turned away, rejecting her pity.

“This isn’t the life I wanted, but it’s the one I have now. Don’t make it harder for me.”

The hard tapping of his high heels echoed like gunshots in the narrow space. Somewhere outside, sirens were going up and down scales like a bunch of bad opera singers. If Christine wasn’t going to fight about it, he had no more time to waste.

A moment later, he heard the sigh of a zipper, and then the soft plop of her shoes following him.

“What’s your name?” Christine asked softly. “Your real name.”

He turned warily. “Why should I tell you that?”

“Because I don’t like talking to myself.” With this wry retort, she pulled on a boxy leather jacket. Her right hand jerked her ponytail out of the collar, while her left threw her duffel over her shoulder. Her gaze was steady, no longer accusing.

Reluctantly, he answered. “Dan.”

She nodded. “Well, Dan, let’s go somewhere quieter.”

He didn’t want this complication, but he had to get out before the firemen arrived. Some companies had monitors with them.

“Fine.”

To be continued…

More coming on Wednesday. And when this link is active, you’ll be able to buy the whole book!

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