Victor Black - And the Garden of the Gods

Chapter 31: Scouting the Grays

Victor woke up the next day, startled.

"Man," he said with a sigh, looking at the clock on the knotty oak nightstand. "Five o'clock."

The alarm screamed, and his hand slammed down on the OFF button. It didn't matter, he knew his parents wouldn't hear it. When they returned from a date night, they spent it in their supped up, master bedroom in the bunker, far below the mountain home, where no one could interrupt them.

"Good times," he said, stretching, and yawning, "at least someone's enjoying life."

He placed his feet on the floor, already in his socks. His jeans were already on, as was his favorite plaid shirt. The night before he had taken a moment and pre-dressed, so he could sneak out once again for his tour of the Black Forest with his favorite girl Willow.

What a great way to start the day—scoping out a remote, alien-cultist compound, he thought, turning toward the window to catch another glimpse of the planet Crimson.

He didn't expect what he saw.

"Snow?"

Outside, the sky remained obscured by clouds. Large, fluffy snowflakes descended, piling up on the windowsill. The window glass was etched from moisture freezing into millions of fractals. It created a frozen spider web of ice around the edges. From the look of the ground below and Victor's Jeep, at least six inches of snow had already fallen. It continued to snow.

"Better get going. Thank you, Jeep." He kissed the air, glad he'd be driving and not Willow with her Mini Cooper.

He put his boots on and eased out the bedroom door. He followed the same procedure: tiptoe down the steps, ease across the living room floor, leave a note next to the key-table so his parents wouldn't freak, open and close the front door carefully.

He checked off his mental list and dashed out into the snow-covered day.

∞ ∞ ∞

Victor ambled through downtown Colorado Springs.

He parked well before Willow's house, not wanting her mother—or her high-profile aunt Joselin and her goons, who were staying for the week—to see him out front. Neither Victor nor Willow needed to be questioned, not today. When his Jeep stopped, within seconds, Willow stepped out the front door, closing it slowly like he did at his own house.

Smart girl, he thought.

She shuffled down the slick road. She slid a few feet on the ice and pretended to do a pirouette, and a spin, sliding into the rumbling Jeep and climbing in.

"Hi mister," Willow gushed, giving Victor a big hug and another perfect smack on the cheek with her minty mouth.

"Cute moves," said Victor, "aren't you perky this morning. How'd you sleep?"

"Crazy dreams—if they were dreams," said Willow.

"Are you ready for the mission?"

"Aye, aye sir," said Willow, saluting Victor and giggling.

Victor bent toward her. They rubbed their cold, pore-less noses together, both shivering from the electricity rushing through them.

Why does she feel so good, Victor thought? And, from mega sad, to cute and silly, all in one night.

He didn't want to guess Willow's emotions or her motives. Any positive changes in her mood was a step in a better direction—a better day for sure. He kept his thoughts to himself, enjoying the moment while it lasted. He hoped it continued for more than a day.