Chapter 1

Yuki

“Another!”

Holding the pitcher by the handle, I banged it against the counter. A petite waiter came straight toward me, a permanent smile etched on her face, and refilled the pitcher with foaming beer. I didn’t even use a glass. I just brought the pitcher up to my mouth and downed half the beer in a quick succession of gulps.

“Fantastic,” I announced to no one in particular, wiping the foam off my mouth with the back of my hand. Without skipping a beat, I turned my attention to the platter in front of me and dove right in. Fried chicken, bacon strips, onion rings, french-fries. All the human delicacies you could ask for.

In other words, heaven.

The best part was that I could keep on eating and drinking for just a handful of human dollars. I wasn’t exactly clued up on the exchange rate, but I didn’t particularly care. The Intergalactic Federation had insisted on paying for this vacation—although they hadn’t called it that—and I was more than happy to spend that money.

As I made my way through the enormous platter of greasy meat, I reached inside my jacket and placed the Restaurants, Roadhouses, and Racks guidebook on the counter. I flipped through it, bending the corner of the pages I was interested in. You’d never guess it, but the humans were actually pretty damn good when it came to cooking.

I grinned as that thought crossed my mind.

It was ironic to think that, just a few weeks ago, I would’ve refused to go near anything Earth-related. Vark, a buddy of mine from the squad, always said that their TV shows would make your brain rot, and I used to be the only one agreeing with him. Of course, that didn’t stop that brutish idiot from mating with a human—and a reality TV gal, of all things.

Unlike in his case, though, Agency Gamma didn’t find me a mate.

Tasked with ensuring that the Kaleth don’t go extinct, the Agency is a collaborative effort between Earth and the Intergalactic Federation. They test the DNA of Earth’s females, compare it with what they have on the Kaleth, and then ship off a merry—and genetically compatible—couple to the nearest resort planet for an intense month of pair-bonding. Or whatever the hell they’re calling it these days.

Unfortunately, things weren’t happening as fast as the Kaleth needed them to. Not many compatible females had been found, and since the Kaleth needed to mate before their brains started turning into primordial ooze, an alternative arrangement had to be found.

Agency Gamma ran the numbers and eventually settled on an alternative strategy. If there is any likelihood of there being a compatible female in a certain area, a Kaleth warrior is given leave from his military duties to tour the area.

The way I saw it, it was a pretty sweet deal.

I started getting into human culture shortly after I got my marching orders. The Agency picked me as one of the first Kaleth to enter this experimental program, and I was to tour the state of Nevada. There was a likelihood I’d come across a compatible female somewhere in the region and, according to the lab rats, I would know if I met her. It had something to do with the Kaleth’s hormonal mate-recognition pattern. Or something. According to the few human shows I had seen, that could be explained by the ‘magic of love’.

Not that I cared about any of that.

I was on Earth on a mission and the rest was secondary.

Unlike most of the idiots in my squad, I had no interest in TV shows about horny doctors and nurses in some sparkly hospital, nor did I care about Game of Thrones or Queer Eye. Don’t get me wrong—I tried to see what all the fuss was about, but I just couldn’t get into any of that. The only thing that managed to hold my attention was Hell’s Kitchen and Parks and Recreation.

Yeah, I had a special place in my heart for Ron Swanson.

After all, we were cut from the same cloth.

See, one of the greatest things about humans is their greasy spoon cuisine. Sure, I recently discovered that their love of bacon is making them eat their way into an early grave, but hey, at least they go out with a smile. A greasy one, sure, but a smile nonetheless.

As it was, I was halfway through a tour of Nevada’s highways and byways, sampling the best their roadside establishments had to offer. I hadn’t spent a lot of time investigating the culture itself—the Agency insisted on things like that for ‘cultural enrichment’ reasons—but I couldn’t give any less of a damn. I was determined to eat and drink as much as I could, and I would only stop once the money ran out.

I glanced over my shoulder as I heard the front door of the Plucky Goose swing open. Two burly men strolled in and headed for a table in the corner, and I kept my eyes on them as I finished my beer. Earth was supposed to be safe but, since my holo-disguise had malfunctioned a few days ago, I had to pay attention to my surroundings. Federation protocols dictated that an holo-disguise malfunction would end my vacation, no matter the circumstances.

This was still a primitive culture. The humans may have been great at comfort food and guilty pleasure entertainment, but they were still not far removed from their caveman ancestors. They didn’t even have faster than light travel. They didn’t even know about other races living outside of their little blue rock. They thought they were the only living things in the whole fucking universe.

Dumbasses.

Still, I wasn’t about to give them a ring and tell them about it.

I mean, what was the worst that could happen? My holo-disguise—that of a tall, handsome man, with absolutely no horns—had been functioning without issues for the past week, and I doubted that a malfunction would happen again. Even if it did, I’d just pretend I was playing their Halloween game or whatever the hell the humans called it. Truth be told, the only thing I knew about it was that humans dressed up and begged for candy.

A strange custom, to be sure, but what did I know?

I was about to ask for another pitcher of beer when I noticed that the two men by the corner were staring at me. Without even bothering to hide it, one of them leaned to the side and whispered something in the other’s ear.

Well, shit.

I placed both my hands on the counter and turned them over. My hands still had that annoying pink color, and they remained human-sized. The holo-disguise was still working, which meant this had to be something else. I placed a handful of crumpled dollar bills on the counter and gave the waitress a customary human salutation.

“May the Force be with you,” I told her, holding my fingers up in a V-shape. She merely stared back at me, her jaw slackening. I shrugged. Maybe it was my accent that threw her off.

Not willing to linger there, I made my way toward the front of the roadhouse and slipped outside. The road was just ahead, cutting through the night like a silent river. Instead of going there, though, I went around the building and waited. No more than thirty-seconds later and the two guys I had spotted emerged from the Plucky Goose, their heads on a swivel as they looked for me.

Yeah, these assholes were looking for me.

As the two men split up, I flattened myself against the wall. I heard the crunching of the gravel, the footsteps growling louder as one of the men neared my position, and I jumped in front of him as quickly as I could. If I had a blaster, I would’ve pistol-whipped him. Since I didn’t, my guidebook would have to suffice.

I whacked the man with the guidebook, using the spine as if it were a hammer, and he stumbled back and fell on his ass. As he did, there was a momentary glimmer as his entire appearance shifted. It only lasted a fraction of a second, but it was enough for me to know these guys were using holo-disguises.

“Who the hell are you?” I growled, lowering myself so that my eyes were level with his. I grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and, the moment he was close enough, the smell of Zanthi sweat filled my nostrils. “Fuck me.” I pinched my nose shut. “What do you have against showering?”

“Let him go,” I heard a loud voice say from behind me, and I turned around to see the other guy stand behind me, a Zanthi blaster in his hands. “You’re coming with us, Yuki. There’s a generous bounty on your head, and we are here to collect it. Now, play nice and show me your hands.”

“Like this?” Turning around, I held both my hands up and promptly showed him my middle-fingers. Before the Zanthi could react, I lowered my center of gravity and threw myself forward. I charged at him, using my shoulder to tackle him to the ground, and the two of us went down like a mortar.

Moving fast, I kicked him in the groin and sprung up to my feet. They were armed, and I didn’t know if they were the only two Zanthi after me. The reasonable thing for me to do here was escape. Most guys in my unit would have barricaded themselves inside The Plucky Goose by now, ready for the shootout of a lifetime, but I wasn’t particularly interested in turning Nevada into a warzone.

All I wanted was bacon, really.

Running fast, I went around the roadhouse and straight toward the parking lot. A semi-trailer was about to pull into the road, so I just went toward it and grabbed the metal bars at the end of the trailer. I heaved myself up until I was on top of the large container, and then watched as the two Zanthi scrambled to their feet.

They rushed toward the truck, blasters at the ready, but I was already out of reach.

“Don’t forget to try the fried chicken,” I shouted, using one hand to point at The Plucky Goose. “Best chicken in the whole state.”

They responded by firing their blasters, red streaks of light cutting through the night toward me. I lowered myself so that I didn’t get my head blown up, and felt the air heat up, the particles they fired missing me narrowly.

I shrugged.

If they didn’t want to try the chicken, it was their loss.

Sitting on the trailer, my legs dangling over the edge, I propped my guidebook over my knees and started flipping through it. I still hadn’t found any sign of a potential mate but, to make up for it, I had found a long list of restaurants and eateries I wanted to try.

I looked down the open road, already imagining what kind of breakfast the morning would bring, when the truck driver slammed his foot on the brakes. I rolled over the trailer, tumbled over the cabin, and ended up sprawled across the windshield.

I patted my body down, just to make sure I hadn’t broken anything, and looked past the windshield to see a shotgun pointed straight at me.

“Ain’t no free rides on my truck,” the driver said with one of those TV southern drawls. He kicked the door open and stepped outside, the shotgun barrel still pointed at me. “C’mon, you son of a bitch. Climb down from there.”

“Greetings, sir,” I said as respectfully as I could. The shotgun didn’t scare me, as I doubted the projectiles could pierce my scales, but it was wise to be polite. The Federation didn’t look too kindly upon those who started shit here on Earth, and I wasn’t looking forward to having my vacations shortened. “I apologize for the intrusion. May I interest you in a night of conversation while you drive this impressive vehicle?”

From what I had observed in all the roadhouses I had been on, truck drivers were a specific caste of the human system. They seemed biologically different from the rest of the humans, I also assumed, since they seemed to subsist on scrambled eggs and black coffee. They were also fans of greasy food and roadhouses, and that made me like them from the get-go.

“What in the world are you talkin’ about?” The driver asked, arching one eyebrow up. “A night of conversation? What do you think—”

Just then, my holo-disguise decided to malfunction. There was a momentary glimmer, and I looked down to see my hands change in color. Where before there was pink, now I could only see gold. My hands became twice the size as the hologram faded, and the headlights of the truck cast the shadow of my horns against the asphalt.

“Holy fuck,” the truck driver muttered, his jaw hanging open. “Alex Jones was fucking right. You lizard people are real.”

“I’m not a liz—”

He squeezed the trigger and I had to duck low. Somehow, I managed to avoid being hit. I heard the projectiles bouncing off the asphalt, and the man pumped his shotgun to eject the spent cartridge.

“I’ve had it with you people running the government,” the man shouted as I tried to get back up. I crossed the road as fast as I could and stepped into the darkness of the desert, the shadows wrapping themselves around me. From behind me, the man kept on firing his shotgun and shouting.

“You can tell your lizard buddies in Washington that this guy right here knows what’s up! You can’t fool me!” He fired the shotgun again for good measure, the sound of it ringing through the desert. Before hopping back on his truck, he shouted one last time. “Also, income tax is illegal!”

I only stopped once I had walked so far into Nevada’s desert that I could no longer see the road. I thought of making my way back there, perhaps to try and hitch a ride, but I decided against it. If my holo-disguise kept on malfunctioning like this, it was best to stay away from people for the time being. Besides, it didn’t help that Zanthi bounty hunters were after me. Sighing, I looked at the cold Nevada desert, hands on my hips, and gave myself an encouraging nod.

I started walking.

 

Chapter 2

Kate

“And that’s all for today.” Smiling at the camera, I held both my thumbs up. “The truth is out there, folks. Keep your eyes open.” I made a slight pause and offered my viewers what I hoped to be a convincing smile. “And don’t forget to like this video and smash the subscribe button!”

Leaning forward, I tapped the spacebar on my keyboard and the red light above the webcam blinked twice before it disappeared. Satisfied with how this video had turned out, I opened my YouTube account and started uploading it. I didn’t even bother with editing it. The truth didn’t require any editing.

There was a chime once the video was uploaded, and the comments started cascading through my screen at once. The obvious ones made their appearance right away— ‘first!’—as did all kinds of stupid jokes. That was routine. Then came the ones praising my work— ‘thank you for bringing us the truth, Tammy!’—and the ones deriding it.

I didn’t really care about those.

Screw the haters.

I was a woman on a mission, and I wouldn’t let those stupid internet trolls stop me. Not that they didn’t try. In fact, they had tried it once already when they christened me as Tinfoil Tammy, but even that hadn’t been enough to stop me from uploading my videos. Even though I’m not a Tammy—I’m just a vanilla-flavored Kate—I embraced the nickname and welcomed the haters with open arms.

That did the trick.

I had never intended to become a meme but, after the trolls started throwing all these tinfoil jokes at me, I was all out of options. So, I embraced their stupid jokes and, as it would turn out, that was the right decision.

My subscribers increased exponentially after I became Tinfoil Tammy, and my platform kept on growing with each passing day. My hopes were that, soon enough, Tinfoil Tammy was going to become a beacon of truth in the world. All I needed to do was get some proof that I wasn’t pulling any of the theories in my videos out of my ass.

Not an easy thing to do, mind you.

After all, how do you prove that the pyramids were built by aliens and not humans? How do you prove that Yeti, the monster of Loch Ness, and all these creatures actually exist? Fair enough, I’m not entirely sure that they are all real, but I’m pretty damn sure that a lot of them are. There are just too many reports and sightings for it all to be bullshit. Besides, what about Nicki Minaj? No way that one is from Earth.

Pushing the chair back, I stretched my back and stifled a yawn.

I eyed the clock on the corner of the computer screen and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. It was almost midnight, which meant that I should have already been fast asleep and not making videos. Oh, well— that’s what you get when you work from home: you stop being a regular human being and your schedule turns into a bipolar creature with a will of its own.

Instead of going for the bed, I rolled toward the desk and cracked my knuckles. My day job consisted of providing online tech support, which I could do with three or four brain cells, and that meant I could forego another hour of sleep. So what if I became a coffee-drinking zombie tomorrow? It wouldn’t be the first time.

Besides, I had more important things to do than sleep.

Most people would say that living like this would make me a lousy employee, but that couldn’t be any further from the truth. Even though I was Tinfoil Tammy during the night, I was Miss Employee of the Month during the day. Not that I had a choice about it. Even though I lived in a trailer home, right in the middle of Nevada’s desert, I had made sure that I was as comfortable as I needed to be.

That cost money.

Even though my videos brought in some ad revenue, I still needed the income from my job. Soon enough, though, I’d get some book deal that’d allow me to earn enough money to make exposing the truth my only job. All I needed to do was find irrefutable proof for one of my theories.

“Alright,” I muttered, shaking my head to stop my brain from giving in to all those wandering thoughts. “Stop stroking your own ego, Kate. Get to work.”

I gave myself a nod and then went for it.

One tap of a key and I brought up Google Maps, a few red pins spread over the state of Nevada. Each one of them marked a sighting of what I assumed to be an alien creature. My goal for the last two weeks had been to track it down and prove to the world that we were not alone in the universe.

So far, all was going according to plan.

With the map open on the left-side screen, I used the one on my right side to open the software program I had been working on. The algorithm hadn’t been that complicated to write and, with some luck, it’d help me predict the path this creature was taking.

The first sighting had happened in Reno, where a waitress called the cops after one of the patrons in her restaurant suddenly turned into what she described as a ‘deep gold skinned demon’. The local cops had merely shrugged the whole thing off, making vague comments to the media about how some ‘illicit substance’ might have played a part in the sighting. Basically, they told the world that the waitress was as high as a kite.

I didn’t buy it.

A single report wasn’t worth my attention, sure, but the sightings continued shortly after that. Near Winnemucca, a busload of tourists called the cops after a horned-demon was seen collecting restaurant menus from the area.

According to their statement, the creature appeared to be a tall and handsome man…right before it changed into a demon. That transformation only lasted a couple of seconds, and the creature assumed its human form shortly after. Oh, right…the creature’s color?

Yeah, you guessed it—a subtle golden tone.

The sightings of that horned golden-demon continued for a week after that news story in Reno, and I was pretty sure I knew the path this alien slash demon was taking. The damn thing was following interstate 80, slowly making its way across Nevada. Surprisingly enough, most of the sightings happened near roadhouses diners, which had prompted the authorities to chalk it up to a bad case of ‘hallucinations caused by food poisoning’.

Yeah, right.

I had never heard about food poisoning that caused people to suddenly start hallucinating the same damn thing. I mean, how likely is it that dozens of people would all hallucinate a golden demon with horns?

Suddenly, my computer came alive with a loud ping.

I spun around to face my third-computer screen and a smile spread across my lips. There was a notification on the screen, and it was exactly the kind of notification I had been waiting for.

Apparently, a truck driver had been making its way through Interstate 80 when he heard someone jump up on the semi-trailer he was driving. After he slammed on the brakes, he came face-to-face with ‘one of those aliens that ran the government’. He scared the creature away with his shotgun, and that was the last he saw of it.

I scrolled down the article until I found a direct quote from the truck driver, claiming that the creature was golden-skinned. My heart started beating faster and faster, and I had to take a deep breath to steady myself. This couldn’t be a coincidence.

Whatever was going on, it was real.

“That’s interesting,” I muttered as I noted the coordinates.

It seemed like this had happened no more than twenty miles from where I had my trailer. Immediately, I felt a wave of excitement wash over me. This alien creature, whatever it could be, was nearby…and that meant I had a chance at finding the evidence I so desperately needed.

“Yes,” I cried out, pumping a fist into the air.

I spun my chair around until I felt dizzy, and then let out a victorious chuckle. Tinfoil Tammy was about to become Truth Tammy. Now all I needed to do was for this alien to rear its head one more time. Once that happened, I’d pack my laptop and start my hunt.

I fired a quick message on Twitter to all my followers and then stretched my back once more. It was hard to believe I was this close to proving the world I wasn’t a certified lunatic. Sure, a lot of my followers were raving lunatics, there was no arguing that point, but I always tried to back my theories with research and facts.

“Alright, chill out, Kate,” I told myself, my heart still beating at thousand miles per hour. According to the algorithm I had designed, I just needed one more sighting and a set of coordinates, and then I’d be able to pinpoint the alien’s next appearance. That, of course, made me extremely antsy.

I’ve never been the kind of girl that enjoys sitting still and, to know that there was nothing for me to do other than wait, was driving me absolutely crazy. I closed my eyes for a couple of seconds and tried to center myself. Once I had calmed down, I turned all three computer screens off and ambled toward the tiny bedroom.

Trailer homes aren’t exactly known as spacious and luxurious, but mine actually had a separate bedroom. It had been one of my prerequisites once I started looking for a mobile home. See, if there was no separation between the place where I worked and the place where I slept, I’d just keep on working until I passed out…and then I’d just repeat that routine over and over again. A separate bedroom allowed me to keep a semblance of sanity.

I closed the bedroom window to stop the mosquitoes from bothering me and grabbed the fly swatter I kept on my bed stand. One of the worst things about living in the desert was that these damn mosquitoes were unforgiving; every time I left the windows open to let some fresh air in, the bastards immediately dragged their luggage, their entire extended family, and moved right in.

I hid under the sheets to keep the flying bloodsuckers at bay and then closed my eyes. I tossed and turn for the better part of an hour, my mind refusing to shut down. Not that it surprised me. Now that I was close to finding a real alien, the possibilities were endless.

“What the…?”

I sat up on the bed as I heard a clattering sound coming from outside the room. It was like someone had climbed through the living room window. My first thought was of coyotes, but that was impossible. As smart as the Nevada coyotes seemed to be, I highly doubted they were savvy enough to start breaking-and-entering.

But if whatever was inside the trailer wasn’t a coyote…what the hell could it be?

I swung my legs off the bed and clutched my fly swatter against my chest. Gingerly, I padded my way toward the door and opened it as silently as I could. The hallway was still dark and covered in shadows, the only light filtering into the trailer coming from the full moon hanging outside.

I tensed up as I heard a sound coming from the end of the hallway.

Yeah, there was something here.

I tiptoed my way down the hallway to see that the bathroom door was ajar. With my heart kicking and punching inside my chest, I made my way there and pushed the door open, holding my fly swatter as if it were a battle-ax.

“Get out of my trailer,” I shouted, “or I’m going to call the—”

The last part of my sentence died in my throat as I saw who the intruder was. Hunched over the toilet, his cupped hand holding some water, was a tall, gold-skinned, humanoid creature. He turned his head to me, his alien eyes locking themselves on mine, and my heart almost burst out of my chest.

I no longer needed to find the alien.

The alien had found me.