Page 41 of Alien in the Depths
“Zaraq!” she’d cry, tears of joy welling in her eyes.
He’d run to her, hold her, and tell her everything was okay. That he’d come for her.
And then the two of them would escape together with the murder weapon still in their possession. They’d truly be free then. Free and in love.
The thought was intoxicating and, for a moment, Zaraq allowed himself to enjoy the fantasy of the life he’d always longed for but never had faith in.
But that was the problem. It was just a fantasy.
“No,” he whispered to himself, shaking his head as if to wash away the thought.
He knew Vexis and plenty of guys like him. A trade could only go one way, and the stakes here were higher than any he’d ever played with before.
Tempting as it was to play the hero, he knew anything other than the agreed-upon plan would put Sofia in danger. Just the thought of it made every muscle in Zaraq’s body tense.
He clenched his fists as he envisioned her imprisoned in that house somewhere, being threatened by Vexis. Or worse. No, the only way to ensure her safety was to play the game.
He glanced down to where he gripped his gray pack, the murder weapon giving it weight. Then, with one determined step, Zaraq approached the security panel he’d hacked his way through just a few hours before. The reader was now lying on the bed, back in the hotel room—not that it would do him much good now anyway. Vexis probably wouldn’t have appreciated a second break-in.
“I’m here.” His voice was somewhere between defiant and resigned, but he hoped Sofia could hear the intercom. He wanted her to know he’d come for her, that in spite of her admonition to stay away, he would never leave her.
The night was warm, and though he no longer wore the skin-tight blue suit, he still felt heat rising around his collar. It only grew hotter as he waited for a response.
Finally, a crackle came through the speaker, but before he could hear what was said, two pairs of hands grabbed him roughly from behind.
“Good of you to stop by,” came a familiar snarling voice, and Zaraq didn’t have to turn to know it was Joran speaking over his left shoulder.
Before he could react, the pack was snatched suddenly out of his right hand and the weedy guard from earlier that night stepped around him.
“And you brought gifts!”
The two men chuckled, their mirthless laughter dissolving into menace as the double doors slid open, and Zaraq was shoved inside. He felt his breath catch in his throat as he stumbled into the checkerboard foyer floor, though, because Joran had shoved him right where his blaster was concealed.
“Hey, what the fuck is this?” The guard’s meaty hands were already pulling up his shirt, and a second later Zaraq felt the scrape of the delta blaster against his skin as Joran pulled it out.
Zaraq spun around, but it was too late. Both guards were staring at him with menacing sneers. Joran’s yellow eyes practically bulged, looking sickly against his mauve skin as he held the weapon. Weedy reminded him of the animals called rodents he used to see in his dad’s studies of Earth.
“So, you upgraded,” Joran snarled, glancing down at the blaster. “I guess your little zapfa ray didn’t cause enough damage, so you came back to finish the job, huh?”
Zaraq felt his heart constrict as he realized the plan was already falling apart. In a vain attempt to get it back on track, he supplicated the guards.
“I wasn’t intending to use that,” he assured them, holding up his hands to show his innocence. “It was just for protection, just in case. But I’m here. I brought the sigma blaster, I’m making good on the deal like Vexis asked. I just want to take Sofia home.”
Joran shot him a menacing grin and sniggered as if he knew a joke that Zaraq wasn’t in on. Suddenly, the sound of heavy footsteps reverberated through the house, and for a second, Zaraq felt a surge of hope that at least he had done what he came to do—save Sofia.
When he turned around, though, he realized he was only hearing one pair of footsteps. And he could guess who they belonged to.
A rough hand from behind pushed him forward again—Weedy this time—and as Zaraq stumbled through the foyer, the truth dawned on him. The deal was never intended to go through. This was a trap.
From the dim shadows of the hallway, Vexis emerged, his face plastered in a look of triumph that made Zaraq’s blood boil.
“For a boy who grew up in the slums, you’re pretty fucking naive,” Vexis sneered.
Behind him, Zaraq heard Joran and Weedy chuckling.
Sycophants, he thought. But it did nothing to make him feel better.
Vexis stared at him for another moment, as if soaking in his victory, before shifting his gaze to the guards. Without a word, he lifted his hand, making a motion for them to hand over what they’d taken from Zaraq. Like two children eager to please their teacher, the guards hurried forward and presented the pack and the blaster, shoulder-checking Zaraq as they passed.