Summer Skies

04. Roswell, New Mexico

-

"YOU EVER READ IT?" she asks, cocking her head innocently.

"No."

I stop in front of her with an expectant look. What does Talia want?

Her grin lilts. "You ever seen Invasion of the Body Snatchers?"

"No."

She stands, sauntering away from McMacnoy. "Listen, I'm trying a new thing—where I attempt to not be a bitch. So." Pause. "Sorry."

That's it?

That's a Talia Devine Apology?

I approach on the sidewalk warily again. Talia could snap, and I might need her.

"Sorry?"

"About Danielle."

Oh. Okay. I nod, watching her glance back and forth down Main, as if afraid somebody is watching. Paranoia. I'd heard Talia Devine was paranoid.

"I wasn't following you," I say meekly.

"No, but you were eavesdropping," she says, smirking. Her eyes are flecked hazel, bright... and wild. It sparks anxiety in my gut as I hold steady. "I know you heard what I said earlier, and you were curious, right? Word went around, you know, Livingston."

Ugh. Fuck. Kevin Livingston.

"There's this thing," she says, spinning abruptly, speaking to empty buildings on Main. I watch her pull a crumpled pack of Camels from her denim jacket; light a cigarette lazily. "It's a conflict between such a clear, aggressive belief in extraterrestrial intelligence yet such a lack of evidence supporting proof. The Fermi Paradox."

Extraterrestrial...

Talia spins again, a loose grin dancing. "Either we are alone in the universe or we are not." Her gaze is almost playful. "Either is equally terrifying."

"Terrifying," I echo.

"Either they can't"—Talia holds up a finger, dragging—"technologically visit us..."

"...or they already have," I finish.

"They already do."

There's a sphynx-like sharpness in Talia Devine. Paranoia. Delusions. Stories. Aliens?

They took her, I kept saying, unwillingly. They took Dani.

No. No, I am not going to get sucked into a Talia Vortex.

(They live among us, Birdie.)

"What happened?" It's a simple question, followed by: "Really?" Talia jerks her chin slowly, leisurely. Her fingers twist. I hold up a stack of crumpled flyers—MISSING: Danielle Price. "Danielle ran away again?"

It's like a gut punch. I feel myself backpedal. I feel myself stutter. What am I doing?

I swallow. Hard. "Maybe."

Probably.

"Nobody's looking for her?"

Robert and Leslie certainly won't be yet.

"Nobody knows where to look." I shrug. Gulls Rock?

It's almost dark in Back Bay. It's all a hazy blue sheen falling on Main Street. Streetlights haven't flicked on. Talia swaying, smoking, lazing off a sidewalk.

"Dani just... disappeared."

Her gaze goes upward. Looking. Searching. Constellations Danielle and I had sighted in a dim grayness. Stars. Planes. There's Talia beneath it all, a cloak of dusk cascading over Port County.