The Mantis (Pt. 04)

11:17pm. An eerie full moon hangs above the semi arid landscape of Roswell, New Mexico. A thin veil of clouds blanket the stars in the night sky and a gentle breeze stirs dust into the air. With hardly any traffic on the streets, the city feels more like a ghost town than some cheap novelty tourist attraction in a brochure.

Headlights from Ethan's Explorer slice though the darkness. Dogs in a quiet subdivision start barking when he turns into an empty driveway. A porch light comes on at the house next door, then one across the street.

After shutting off the engine, he sits there for a few minutes reminiscing the times he brought a woman to his house. Eventually, he gets out of the vehicle and shuts the door. Seconds later, Amber opens the passenger door and gets out as well.

"Where are we," she asks.

"We're at my place," he says, heading up the walkway.

"It's nice, but you said Brett would look for me here."

"We're not going to be here long," he says.

When Ethan unlocks the door, she follows him inside the house.

"Leave the door open in case someone pulls up," he says.

"What if someone does?"

"Let's hope that doesn't happen," he says, turning on a lamp.

"It sounds like you've had enough excitement for one night."

"You could say that," he says, walking up the stairs. "Make yourself at home."

Once Ethan disappears, Amber wanders into the living room. It's cozy, furnished with plush leather furniture and artificial plants similar to his office. As she strolls through the room, a small collection of plastic figurines sitting on the fireplace mantel catches her curious eyes. She stops and picks one up for a closer look.

"I thought you said that you didn't believe in aliens," she hollers over her shoulder.

"Those are novelty items. You'll see all sorts of weird stuff around Roswell."

She sits the figurine back and wanders around looking at all the pictures hanging on the walls until one perks her interest.

"Who's the woman with blonde hair in this picture with you," she asks, studying it.

"That's my ex wife."

"Are these your kids?"

"The oldest is my stepdaughter."

"She favors her mother."

"The two boys are mine," he adds.

"So where are they now," she inquires.

"It's a long story."

Before long, her curiosity leads her to the patio door. She slides it open and sticks her head outside. A gentle gust of wind whips her long purple hair as she sweeps her eyes across the backyard. Soon, her eyes settle upon the pool water shimmering in the pale moonlight. Her thoughts, wandering inside her head. Before she steps onto the patio, a hand touches her on the shoulder, triggering a reaction.

"There you are," Ethan says.

"You scared the fuck out of me," she gasps.

"Sorry about that, but we need to go."

"You're not telling me a whole lot," she says, closing the patio door.

"We're gonna head South," he says, heading to the front door.

"What's in the suitcases?"

"I don't think I'll be coming back here, at least not for awhile."

"Am I causing you problems, Ethan?"

"Pfft... I'm doing a good job of that myself," he quips.

When Amber exits the house, Ethan turns off the lamp, locks the front door and pulls it shut behind him. Under a cover of darkness, they make their way down the steps to the vehicle. Strangely, something doesn't feel right. While he puts the suitcases in the back, she sweeps her eyes through the yard looking for anything suspicious or out of the ordinary.

"So why are we heading South," she asks.

"It'll make it harder for Brett to - ," he says, closing the glass hatch.

"Something's not right," she interrupts, gazing at the shrubbery.

"It's probably nothing."

"Well, it feels like something to me."

"You're just jumpy," he says, opening the driver door.

"It's not that."

"Then it's probably just a rabbit. They're pretty common around here."

"I doubt it," she says, getting into the vehicle.

Minutes later, Ethan starts the engine. Then, he backs out the driveway. Once they're out of sight, a small surveillance drone rises from the bushes and follows them into the city.

"What're you thinking about," he asks, turning off the radio.

"Nothing, what's up with the street lights," she inquires, staring out the window.

"What about them?"

"They look like they have - I don't know - eyes, I guess."

"They do. Roswell is the alien capital of the world," he says.

"That explains why I was brought here."

"From where," he questions.

"I won't know until I check my jump history."

"That sounds like it's above my college degrees."

"Probably, I'm too tired to check it now."

"I imagine so with all the running you did, no pun intended."

"Yeah," she says, yawning.

Fighting sleep, Amber slides the car seat back. Then, she leans her head against the window and stares at the buildings as they pass. After awhile, her silence arouses Ethan's curiosity.

"So where's your spaceship," he inquires.

"You still find it hard to believe I'm an alien."

"A little bit. Would you like a cigarette?"

"I don't smoke, Ethan."

"I shouldn't do it either, but I'm under a lot of stress," he says, lighting one.

"I don't see how."

"Let's just say that helping you escape from a government facility has consequences."

"I could've escaped from there on my own."

"Maybe, maybe not."

"It's not worth arguing."

"Anyway, I've been looking for a reason to quit for awhile."

"At least you didn't kill anyone."

"Speaking of which, why did you do it?"

"You have no idea what they did to me."

"Like what," he questions.

"I'd rather not talk about it," she mumbles.

"Is it that bad," he asks, flicking his cigarette butt out the window.

"I'd rather forget about it," she says, signing.

Before long, the city of Roswell is miles behind them. As Ethan takes them further south, the ride begins to tax Amber. Her tired eyes grow heavier. When she leans against the window and closes them, he nudges her shoulder.

"I could use a little help staying awake," he says.

"What would you like to talk about," she asks, sitting up in the car seat, rubbing her eyes.

"Nothing in particular."

"Okay, tell me about yourself."

"Well, I'm forty - four, six foot tall, divorced -"

"Not that shit," she interrupts, yawning.

"Alright, I was in the Marines for a few years, then I went off to college and -"

"Damn," she interrupts, chuckling.

"Now what?"

"You're terrible at talking about yourself."

"I'm usually the one asking the questions."

"How did you ended up here," she inquires.

"My parents moved here from Houston, Texas before I graduated high school.

"So you've been here for awhile?"

"Not really, my parents divorced soon after my father stated working for A.D.R.E. I moved out to California with my mother and two younger brothers for awhile. When I graduated college, I moved back here to work with my father."

"When did you meet Brett," she inquires.

"Last year, my father had a heart attack and passed away.

"That must've been pretty hard on you."

"Yeah, Wesley transferred from the military drone research sector to the extraterrestrial sector."

"Sounds like you were close to your father."

"We had our moments, mostly when he wasn't drinking," he says.

"At least you grew up with your father."

"Did yours abandon you?"

"No, my mother killed him before I was born."

"Damn, is she in jail," he inquires.

"She died shorty after giving birth to me."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he says, placing his hand on her thigh.

"You shouldn't get attached to me, Ethan."

"Why is that," he asks, retracting his hand.

"You'll end up with your feelings hurt."

"It won't be the first time."

"I'm just saying," she says, yawning.

Unable to keep her eyes open, Amber drifts off to sleep. Instead of stopping for the night, he presses on after stopping for gas in Carlsbad. Eventually, his eyes get heavy as well. He pulls into a quiet motel in Pecos, Texas and rents a room. Afterwards, he calls Karen and leaves a brief voicemail, then he withdraws a large sum of money from the ATM.

By the time he gets back into the vehicle, the drone following them arrives. Low on power, it follows them around the building. Before its power cells completely drain, it conceals itself in the shrubbery and transmits information to A.D.R.E.'s central command center.

"Wake up, Amber."

"Huh, where are we," she asks, sitting up in the seat.

"We're at a hotel," he says, opening the driver door.

"The sun's not up," she groans, rubbing her eyes.

"It's 3 o'clock in the morning."

"It's too early."

After a few minutes, Amber opens her door, steps out, and stretches her legs while Ethan gets one of the suitcases from the back. When he opens the hotel door, she follows him inside and sits her backpack on the dresser. As soon as he closes the door, she collapses onto one of the queen sized beds and signs.

"It's not the best place to spend the night, but at least it has all the comforts of home," he says, laying the suitcase on the small table.

"It's better than sleeping in the vehicle," she says, staring up at the ceiling, "no offense."

"It's alright. I'm too tired to drive anymore."

"So what happens now," she asks, raising her head.

"Probably nothing until Brett finds out you're gone," he says, unzipping the suitcase.

"I don't want to go back there."

"It's only a matter of time before he finds us," he says.

"Do you think he will," she questions.

"He's won't stop until he does."

"Well, I'm going to take a shower unless you want to take one first."

"No, go ahead. I need to figure out some kind of game plan," he says.

"Alright," she says, sitting up on the bed.

While Amber strips off her clothes, Ethan digs a road map from the suitcase. In no time at all, she arouses his curiosity. At first, he tries not to look, but it's impossible. His eyes are drawn to her gorgeous, petite figure in light pink satin lingerie with black trim. Soon, deeper feelings for her begin to filter into his head.

On her way to the shower, she pauses at the mirror to remove her bra. She pretends not to notice his heavy gaze in the reflection as she unhooks it. With a subtle smile, she drops it on the floor and massages her breasts in the soft white light. Then, she heads into the bathroom and closes the door behind her, leaving him to wonder.

Once the shower starts, his mind goes crazy. He steps outside for some fresh air to clear his head to no avail. Before long, he's out strolling around in the parking lot, smoking. Justifying his thoughts, he retrieves a laundry basket of clothes from the back of his vehicle, carries it inside the hotel room and sits it on her bed.

Eventually, the water stops. He sits down and waits; his heart, pounding in his chest. Minutes later, she opens the bathroom door and walks out with a bath towel covering her breasts. His mind goes blank as soon as she bends over to scrub dry her wet hair.

"Whew, I feel a lot better," she says, yawning.

"It sounds like it," he says, sweeping his eyes over her body. "Why didn't you wash off your makeup?"

"Because I'm not wearing makeup. Anyway, I thought you'd be asleep by now."

"Yeah, me too," he says, rising to his feet.

"What's all this," she asks, noticing the basket.

"Those are some of my ex wife's clothes. They should fit you."

"Why do you have them," she inquires, sifting through them.

"Rachel left them at the house after she and I divorced."

"That doesn't explain why you're riding around with them."

"I was going to donate them, but -"

"Ooo... I love this - uh - ," she interrupts, holding it up to admire it.

"It's a corset," he says.

To Amber, the strange looking oddity is an eye catcher. It's classic overbust design is crafted in durable, soft black faux leather, reinforced by spiral steel bones with a chord drawstring back. A shiny metal swing hook front closure and matching accent chains dangling on the sides give it a somewhat gothic appearance.

"Now, if I can only find something to match," she says, laying it on the bed.

"You can have anything in there you want," he says, watching her.

"It'll look great with this denim skirt and these skin tight black leggings."

"She wanted to fit in with her circle of friends."

"I'm not following you, Ethan."

"My ex wife was a slut," he says, unbuttoning his shirt.

"A what?"

"Forget I said it," he says, gesturing his hand.

"She has good taste."

"The clothes were a way to accelerate her sex appeal, not that she needed to."

"There's nothing wrong with that," she says, smiling.

While Amber sifts through the clothes, Ethan closes the curtains. As he gears down for bed, he slips off his shoes and strips down to his boxers. Random thoughts float around in his head as he watches her from the corner of his eye. She's sending signals, but nothing that's clear. He begins to wonder if she's interested in him or just waiting for him to make the first move.

"You're not planning on sleeping in those, are you," he asks.

"I don't sleep in clothes," she says, sitting the basket on the dresser.

"That's odd."

"Is it a problem," she asks.

"No, not at all. It's just - it's just that you really know how to -"

Before Ethan finishes his sentence, Amber removes the towel wrapped around her and drops it. Seconds feel like eternity as it falls to the floor at her feet. An awkward silence fills the room as he stares at her naked backside.

"How to what," she inquires, turning around to face him.

From the waist up, Amber is gorgeous in every way imaginable: modest-sized breasts; soft, pale white skin; and a sexy, petite hourglass figure. Below her waistline, it's a different story altogether. Although she has slender, feminine legs and cute, tiny feet, she's not the beautiful woman she appears to be on the surface. His heart sinks as thoughts pour into his head, casting a light on his shocking discovery.

"Y - you're not a woman," he stutters, taking a step back.

"I never said I was," she says, studying his reaction."

"But -"

"I know. It's confusing, but, on Enceladus, men look like me and women, well, they look similar to you."

"Stop. Stop right there - please."

"You're not going to wig out on me, are you?"

"No, I'm just -"

"You seem disappointed I'm not -"

"No," he interrupts, shaking his bed, "It's just hard to wrap my head around this, that's all."

"Fair enough, but it seems like you're judging me based on what you see."

"It's hard not to when you look like a woman."

"But I'm not from here," she says, pausing for a second. "Let me show you."

In a flash of light, Amber morphs into a giant, human-sized orchid mantis. Her natural form projects a deceptively trustworthy appearance combined with stereotypical alien-like features atop a triangular shaped head. From the huge, petal shaped lobes on her four hind legs to the vibrant markings on her body, her camouflage, an arsenal of deception, mimics the intricate details of a flower. She's beautiful, but, without a doubt, equally dangerous armed with thorny, raptorial front legs; raised, as if praying, ready to strike.

Her sudden transformation frightens Ethan. He backpedals until he trips and falls on the floor; his face, expressing fear - the fear of being eaten alive. When she approaches him, he lifts his hand in the air protecting himself from a certain death.

"D-don't kill me," he stutters.

Restraining her instincts, she morphs back to human form; her hands, covering her face.

"I'm so sorry, Ethan."

"Oh, God," he gasps.

"I tried to tell you."

"I think I need to sleep in the car."

She extends her hand; waiting. Reluctantly, he takes it, wrapping his fingers around her wrist.

"If I was going to kill you," she says, helping him to his feet, "I would've done it by now."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"I don't know. Do you?"

"Somewhat - maybe - I don't really know," he babbles, releasing his grip.

"Well, now you do."

"You didn't mention anything about this before I helped you escape. I thought you were -"

"What," she interrupts, "that I was delusional or a woman?"

"I don't know what I was thinking, Amber."

"Then why did you," she presses.

"I didn't like the way you were being treated," he says.

"Right, so you have feelings for me?"

"I don't know - maybe.

"I figured as much."

"What difference does it make now? That was before all of this."

She shakes her head and walks away, leaving him standing at the foot of his bed.

"I wouldn't know, but it's been a long day," she says, folding back the covers on her bed.

"What exactly do you eat?"

"G'night, Ethan."

When Amber crawls into bed, Ethan stands there staring at her, absorbing everything. His mind, burning with a multitude of questions. Before long, he grabs a change of boxers and heads to the shower. By the time he exits the bathroom, she's sound asleep. He takes one last look at her before he turns off the lights. Then, he crawls into bed and pulls the covers over him. As the minutes linger by, he tosses and turns; his mind, churning; his thoughts, consuming him. Eventually, he closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep.