The Tale of the Blood Diamond (33 page)

But suddenly, the room filled with a stench so vile, it made her head spin. It growled and wrestled, tossing her to and fro, and then she looked the demon in the eyes.
As she stared at the monster, it smiled at her, seeming to suck in the air and feast off her emotions as though they were fragrant perfume. In her terror, she held on with all of her might, but it was no use. The Morphitian grabbed at the nose of the gun and tried to wrench it free from her hand. She lost her grip on the weapon as a struggle ensued until she heard the thing thud to the floor.

“Shit!” The demonic animal slashed and clawed into her exposed neck, the scratches it made deep and burning. She could feel her blood trickle, and that only made her more determined to get control of the damned situation.

“Ahhhh!” She couldn’t see heads or tails of the room, only fast shadows and glimpses of light. Every time she attempted to crawl away, it pulled her back but inch by inch, she fought as hard as she could! Screaming all the way… until she reached her pillow. Sliding her hand deep within it, she removed the circular object she so desperately needed and prayed she wouldn’t freeze this time. The monster snatched at her body once more, flinging her roughly onto her back.

It was strong and visually alarming, all the things her husband had warned her about — here was that very situation staring her in the face. She had to make it; she had to see her way out of this.

With all of her might, Jayme turned the fucker on its back and flung a sheet partially over its face, blinding its vision.

“Ahhhh! Damn it!” She screamed as it fought in its disorientation.

Grunting, she straddled it while it bucked about. It spoke in a language she didn’t understand, ugly words all the same based on the tone and all the spitting and soiling of the fabrics above its face. It somehow got its damn mouth free, and its breath rolled out like a tar covered tarp, catching everything and burning it up in its pungent path. Jayme gripped the fucker’s mouth, pushed hard on the bastard’s tongue, causing a gag; then, she pushed into the side with her thumb to activate her weapon and tossed the damn specialty grenade inside without one second of vacillation.  She closed the lips and tilted the head back, forcing a swallow, then jumped off the bed and ran to the opposite corner of the room. She didn’t dare take her eyes off the thing as it screamed out. The voice was so shrill and penetrating, she wanted to cover her ears, but was too panicked to move one damned muscle.

The ugliness of the bastard was sufficient to stop her in her tracks; the odor it exuded was enough to make her pass out and vomit in her own mouth. But the greatest offense of all was that the motherfucker wore pearls…

“Grandma
never
wore pearls! She hated ’em!” The monster reared up, spitting and seemingly trying to choke itself to death — anything to remove to object now pushing down its throat. It turned towards her, but just like that, it combusted, blowing up from the inside out. Jayme cowered upon the explosion but as she removed her arm from her eyes and got to her feet, she confirmed what Xzion had told her would happen. Only the monster ignited, not the area around it. Yet still, pieces of the beast were all over the damned place.

“Fuck this shit!” She grabbed the fallen gun and stormed out of the bedroom, her back erect, her face hurting from the twisted expression she wore. She briefly paused to catch her damn breath, hitting the wall with her fist and still gripping her gun tighter with the other. The halls lit with the surreal shades of cerebellum blue as she continued to make her trek towards the exit. Each step she took, more light bathed her. Motion detection was in full effect. She had no idea how the damned thing got past the security system, but what she did know was that she wasn’t in the mood for any more uninvited guests. Sweat streamed down her face like a waterfall as she made her way to the front door, not sure if more were in the house and not trying to stick around to find out. The cold air should have knocked her to her knees; instead, it felt like a breath of fresh air, giving her new, rejuvenated life. Her hair whipped around in angry black, twisted strands, beating about her face, and her pajamas seemed to be pulled by invisible hands from the gusty wind. She looked down, surprised she didn’t initially feel that she was standing in at least two feet of snow with only her socks on. Afraid she’d get frost bitten, she moved from the spot back towards the door. Creeping along, she peered into the windows of her home. She did not notice anything unusual.

“Goddamn it…my phone is in the house!” Taking a deep breath, she exhaled and tried to calm her thumping heartbeat. She slid her back against the cold, brick wall of the structure, briefly closed her eyes then turned on a dime, her weapon pointed towards the unlocked door she’d just exited.

Come on now, Jayme, you can do this… Just treat it like any other call…

Slowly, she swung the front door open. She immediately looked to her right and left, her feet wide, her steps slow and the gun held up high. Swallowing deeply, she went from room to room, refusing to be a victim, especially in her own damned house.

After she’d checked the last area, out poured a sigh of relief as she slumped down into a chair, her fingers still on the damn trigger. Taking a couple deep breaths, she picked up her phone and dialed.

“Xzion? Baby?” she said breathlessly.

All she heard was static.

“Fuck! He must be still in route.”

She dialed a different number, hoping and praying she’d get an answer.

“Jayme?”

“Yes, it’s me, Cxeza…” She paused, still trying to catch her breath, her chest heaving from the adrenaline rush. “A Morphitian was in my house. He or she, whatever the fuck it is, is now dead…blown to pieces all over my bed. I need this damn thing out of my house. Can you handle that?”

Jayme was in a terrible mental state, but she could have sworn she heard her snarky sister-in-law laughing. She listened closer, and sure as her husband had a biological laser in his eye, the bitch was indeed chuckling.

“What is so funny?! I don’t see anything humorous about this, Cxeza!”

“Oh, Jayme.” The woman continued to laugh. “I’m so proud of you. Hey, did you use the acid gun or the prize, the grenade?”

“Well…I tried to use the acid gun because I could have been less precise and didn’t have to get right up on it to use it.  But, it got the gun away from me and I ended up having to use the grenade. Xzion said that was the only way to get rid of them, but he also told me the acid gun would slow them down enough so I could get away if nothing else worked for me. Anyway, none of this matters right now! Just help me, please.”

“I will, I will.” She laughed again, her nonchalance evident in the casual timbre of the laughter. “We’ve been known to knock them out with a piece of ice right between their eyes. That’s a lot more difficult though, virtually impossible. You have to get it in there a certain way. It basically shuts them completely down, they become paralyzed and then die soon after. They are temperature sensitive there, but
only
there. The gun and grenade are much more fun though. You’re awesome!” She continued to laugh, seemingly much more concerned about the nature of the demise versus the harrowing ordeal Jayme had just endured. And what was it with the light-hearted compliments? 

This bitch has lost her damned mind…

“Well, I’m glad you’re amused, but if you don’t mind, I need—”

“I don’t think a Morphitian has
ever
been killed by a human. Kudos!”

“Whu…what?”

“Yeah, but anyway, I and some of the guys will come and get rid of the body and help clean up your place. We just set it on fire and it turns to small particle dust. They really stink, don’t they?” She continued to chuckle. “Hey everybody, Jayme killed a Morphitian! Woo Hoo!!!” The woman laughed lazily, continuing to spread Jayme’s flames of anger around with her increased giddiness.

In the background, she heard Zarkstormians hollering and clapping at the announcement. She couldn’t believe her ears! They were acting as if she’d won a swim meet, or got an ‘A’ on her term paper. This shit was serious! A dead, funky ass alien that pretended to be her beloved grandmother tried to trick and kill her and if it wasn’t for those damn pearls it wore, she was afraid she may have believed the little hoax.

“What the…?! Just get down here and get rid of it, please, and if you hear from your brother before I do, you
tell
him his ass is mine for leaving that little detail out!”

Jayme jammed her finger angrily into the phone, pressing the ‘END CALL’ button with brute determination, as if that would somehow make her sister-in-law understand just how taken aback and shocked she was to be told such a thing.

“Damn you, Xzion!” She popped up from her seat and marched back to the bedroom to glance at her bed. There the grotesque body remained, torn to shreds. The room was now filled with the musty, burnt flesh odor with a ting of spoiled fish added to the nasally brew.

Cloaking her nose with her hand, she stood in the doorway, refusing to take her eyes off the exploded son of a bitch. After a while, she heard knocks on the door at the back of the house.

“’Bout time they arrived…taking all damn day.”  It had only been a few minutes, but she was still sulking.

She looked out the side window to see two Zarkstormians, along with Cxeza who stood there in her tight leather-type outfit, her tanned breasts about to pop the hell out and a smack her in her smug face. Jayme hated that there was something she liked about the little instigating minx. She couldn’t figure out what, but it was there nevertheless.

“For all I know, you three could be Morphitians, too!” she barked, causing Cxeza to giggle as she stepped inside the place, her boots thumping against the floor. On a dime, her sister-in-law turned serious and navigated her way down the hall to Jayme’s bedroom, her weapon drawn, along with the two soldiers right behind her. Jayme remained by the doorway. The cool breeze blew past but did nothing to ease her ever-growing anger. She realized in that moment, she wasn’t mad at Cxeza, and she wasn’t really mad at Xzion, either. After all, he’d tried to warn her to stay out of this, but she’d made her choice, so he made his as well. In retrospect, what good would it have done for him to let her know the Morphitians’ batting average against humans was a grand slam? None. She’d still have been faced with the same situation, at the same damn time. No, none of that really mattered and she understood the truth of the dilemma now. She was mad at
herself
. Regardless of the dead and putrid alien she managed to score, she still felt a bit helpless. How was she going to protect and serve when she was no longer sure who the bad guys were anymore?

Right and wrong was no longer clear in her mind; the line had blurred and it was stinking of old blood and tinged with the worse emotion of all: fear. And in
that
, she found herself drowning in confusion, and hoping to soon gain some clarity before it was too late and she reached the point of no return.

Xzion, I’m doing the best I can, but I’m at a disadvantage here! I need this to end; I need my son, my family! I’ve had enough!

*
***

Sajut?… Kitzaratlet?
(What is this? Where am I?)

Slowly opening his eyes, he blinked, looking from one far corner of the enclosure to the other. It was cold and dark, but the strangest dream had jarred him awake. The voice of a small boy had been close by and a gust of air continued to swarm past a clear enclosure above his face. He parted his lips, but no sound escaped. He felt trapped in his own six foot, eight inch tall, stiff and cold body. He strained to rise, but it was no use. Tightly bound straps kept his legs buckled and he had no energy at all. He gasped, choking on the dryness of his throat as the continued to hear the faint noises of beeps, light footsteps and soft talking coming and going.

Suddenly, a new set of footsteps approached, then abruptly stopped. He strained to speak, to yell out for help, to awaken someone to understand, to know, that the dream he’d been having was interrupted and he could barely breathe…but panic struck, and all he could do was wait.

“Ayut tyaotiw zope niyice!”  (The tomb is open and the oxygen chamber is down!) someone yelled in a rather deep, feminine voice. A few other voices joined in, then the ambush of footsteps came faster and before long, a siren rang, blaring loudly, making him scream inside of his head. Two faces crowded over his, then more and more.

“Satiyu, Wazifit Uiju Zahar!” (Revered, Holy Warrior Zahar…you are alive and lucid!)

****

Xzion swirled his tongue around in his mouth, tasting the bitterness of the iron-rich blood he’d drank from a kito (a horse-like creature). Breakfast was over, but his appetite was far from satiated. His son sat on one knee, and his large, black gun on the other. Leaning back in his seat, he glared at his parents and word had spread there had been some sort of breach of security at the morgue. He had to see his son, his people, before he went about his way.

“So,” Aton broke the silence. “That is where we are, at this point.”

“You mustn’t keep trying to save Earth, son,” his mother warned, her tone stiff.

Xzion couldn’t believe his ears. First Cxeza, then this! He fought becoming angry once again; besides, it wouldn’t change the tides. She was only admitting what so many Zarkstormians were now feeling. They wanted to help, they felt in debt, but some still considered humans inferior. They thought Jayme an anomaly or, worse yet, completely ordinary but for whatever reason, Xzion had taken a liking to the little pet. Sure, they were grateful for Zachary, but they were content with him staying on Zarkstorm, and wanted Xzion back, too. Problem solved.