ALIEN INVASION (14 page)

“Hi, Mikey, how’s things going, you almost ready to start shooting?” I placed my backpack next to the base of the tripod and tried to hear his response over the clanging machinery that formed an old boiler in the room we were in.

“I’m almost ready. Could you get changed into your costume? You’ll find it in the bag over by the pipes on the far wall, it was one of the only dry sections of floor I could find.”

“Sure,” I said as I started to walk to the pipes, hearing squelches under my feet as I did. It was so dark, even with the bare bulb that hung from the ceiling. I had to hold my hands out in front of myself to feel when I’d reached the wall the pipes were on; it really was the blackest of black in some areas.

I was rummaging through the bag for my costume when I felt something bite at my finger. I quickly pulled my hand out of the bag, screaming, “Shit!” It was stinging something awful and I could feel something wet running down it. “Son of a bitch,” I added.

Mikey turned to me and asked, “Are you okay?”

“What the hell have you got in this bag?” I was trying to angle my finger to see what had happened to it, but it was no use. I’d have had to walk back toward the bulb, near the camera, to be able to see properly.

“Oh, crap, I’m so sorry,” said Mikey.

“Oh crap, what? Sorry for what?” I tried to make my eyes adjust to the dark by squinting them, so I could make out his expression, but that just made the place even darker and his expression more invisible.

“I had to bring a real knife for the scene. I should have warned you. Sorry, man.”

“You trying to tell me, I’ve cut my finger on a knife?”

“Yeah, sorry. Is it deep?”

“I’m not sure, I can’t see shit. And how are we supposed to do the scene with a real knife? That’s too dangerous.”

“Come into the light and let me have a look.” I knew the voice instantly. It was Cynthia. I also started to panic about my reaction to the cut. I must have sounded like a big pussy.

I held the hand with the cut finger by the wrist and headed toward the camera. When I was next to the tripod Cynthia walked into the light. My mouth almost hung open. She was already dressed in her costume.

She had on a short, tight pencil skirt, showing off her stunning legs and her curves to their full potential, a white and brown flannel shirt, tied in a knot at the bottom, revealing her midriff, her flat stomach and her pierced bellybutton. She had a ponytail at each side of her head and geeky black-rimmed spectacles. She was the sexiest schoolgirl I’d ever seen. I swallowed and internally cursed myself for being such a wimp.

She took hold of the hand with the cut finger and pulled it toward her. She angled it a few different ways, trying to get the crappy bulb to shed some light on the situation. “You’ll live,” she said, smiling, flashing her magnificently white teeth. “I’ll fix it up, and we’ll get you into your costume. Sound like a plan?”

I just nodded. I was speechless. Her face had entranced me; her smile had locked me into a frozen position. The feel of her skin against mine was sending some kind of nervously anxious electricity through my body in a tingly way.

I was expecting her to leave to get a Band-Aid, but she didn’t. She pulled my hand toward her face, angled my finger so it was pointing at her, and then she slid it into her mouth and started to suck.

I was concerned I’d cream my pants. It felt amazing. I didn’t even consider the grossness of the situation, the fact she was drinking my blood. I focused on the warmth, the sucking action and her tongue glancing on and off my finger. I was so thankful of the dark; I needed it to hide what was happening in my trousers.

She removed my finger, the tip brushing over her lips on the way out. I had to shut my eyes for a brief moment and let out a long, slow, silent breath. When I’d opened them, I could see her wetness glistening on my skin. She was smiling again as she said, “All done. Let’s get this show on the road.”

I didn’t move. “Zack.” I didn’t speak. “Zack!” That one got my attention. It was Mikey. “Get your costume on.”

“Yeah, sure.” I turned to walk back to the bag that had the costume. I threw a quick look over my shoulder. Cynthia was standing next to Mikey, looking over some script pages. I coughed, to try and clear my nervousness, and then I readjusted my trousers, which had become kinda tight.

When I put my hand back in the bag, I was much more careful than I had been before. Although I did wonder if it was worth cutting myself on the knife again, just so I could get Cynthia to play vampire nurse once more.

I found the sheet that was to be used as my costume. I established the eyeholes with my fingers and positioned them so I could slip it over my head without the embarrassment of stumbling around blind. Once I had it on the stupidity of the situation hit me.

I turned toward Mikey. “Mikey, have you not considered a black guy wearing a white sheet with eyeholes might be a little uncomfortable.”

“Why?” He seemed completely unaware.

“Black people have had a long and troubled history with people with white sheets with eyeholes cut in them.”

“Ah shit,” he said. I couldn’t see him too good, but I’m guessing he’d have looked concerned by that point. “I only chose it because it would show up on camera. I have a black sheet in my car. I could go and get that, cut two eyeholes in it. It would only take me a minute or two. What do you think?”

“I’m thinking …”

“Yeah?”

“Which is more racist, a black guy wearing a black sheet or a white one?” I was just screwing with him, trying to make him feel as uncomfortable as possible. It seemed to work.

“I’m so sorry, man. I’ll go and get the other sheet, if that’s okay with you?”

“I’ve still not decided which offends me more.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Mikey,” said Cynthia. “Go and get the black sheet. That way me and Zack can run through our lines. When you get back, we’ll be ready to shoot.”

My heart skipped a beat then started to race. The thought of being alone in a dark enclosed space with Cynthia was very exciting. Not that I’d make a move, but small steps have to be taken on a long journey.

“Yeah, sure,” Mikey said. “The black might be more scary anyway, more evil looking … not that black means evil.” Panic had affected his voice. It had gone up an octave. I smiled under my sheet.

“Mikey, calm down, dude. I’m cool. Just go get the other sheet.” As I was pulling the white one over my head I heard him run down the long corridor I’d entered the boiler room from.

Once the sheet was off I dropped it on the bag I’d taken it from and was met by the sight of Cynthia. She stood in front of me, covered by the dark of the room. I could tell she was smiling; her teeth and the whites of her eyes were clearly visible. She was standing so close to me I’m almost positive I felt her breasts brush against my chest; it might have been wishful thinking though.

She grabbed hold of my hand. “Right, you, out of the dark and into the light, I want to get my lines down.” She led me to stand next to the camera and under the bulb again. To my surprise she kept hold of my hand. “You’re shaking, are you okay?”

I cursed myself in my head. I was shaking. The nerves had really hit me. She had a strange affect on me, no doubt about it. I’d had a thing for her for a long time. There was just something about her that separated her from the other girls. Most likely the hate she normally seemed to have for me. Which served to make me both curious and confused about the situation. I had no idea why she was being so nice to me for a change. It felt stranger than when she was throwing me evil glares.

“I’m okay,” I stuttered out. I cursed myself again.

“You sure?” She held my hand tighter and pulled it into her chest. I was definitely brushing against her breasts then. I tried to control my breathing. It didn’t work. “You don’t seem it. You’re still shaking. Are you nervous about the shoot? You don’t need to be. You’ll be fine. I’ll look after you.”

“It’s not that … it’s … it’s …” I wanted to ask her, to tell her, to try and get an understanding of what was happening.

She smiled at me; she had a twinkle in her eyes. I’d only seen that when she was laughing and joking with her friends, never when she was looking at me. “Zack, don’t be anxious. Just tell me what you want to say.”

“I was just wondering … that is … why are you being nice to me, I thought you hated me.” I let out a breath. I’d held it in through the whole sentence. My muscles had gone stiff too. I was so tense.

“I don’t hate you.” She edged even closer to me. Her toes were touching mine.

“You don’t?” I didn’t want to sound so surprised, but I did, and I was.

“What gave you that idea?”

“Just … just the way you look at me and stuff … This is the most we’ve ever spoken.” I swallowed.

She let out the cutest little laugh. “I see. I’m sorry I gave you that impression. Can I tell you a secret?”

I didn’t really know what to say, but my mouth decided for me and said, “Sure.”

“I was talking to my friends, about how I’d never … how I’d …” She chuckled again. “Now I’m getting nervous.” She took her hands from mine; it fell from her chest to my side. I was longing for her touch as soon as it left me. Thankfully I didn’t have to wait long, she shook her arms, like she was trying to shake off the nerves, and then she pulled my hand back to her.

“You okay?”

“I was talking to them about naughty things.”

“Naughty things?” I was really confused.

“Yeah.” She whispered the next bit, “Sex.”

“Oh.” My heart started to rabbit to supersonic level. It felt like it was trying to push up and out of my throat.

“We were talking about who we’d slept with.” She looked as though she was trying to fight back a smile, one side of her mouth loosing the battle a little more than the other.

I thought about who I’d slept with. It didn’t take long. Since I hadn’t slept with anyone. Not in reality anyway. In my fantasies I was a stud. In the real world, not so much.

“And you know what I thought?” she raised her eyebrows as she asked the question.

I had no idea what she’d thought. “I have no idea.” I wanted to find out though.

“I’ve not slept with … with … I don’t know if I should say.” She looked away from me.

“Please, say it.” I sounded like an idiot. She had me wrapped around her little finger.

“I’ve not slept with a black guy.” She turned back to me and smiled.

“Neither have I.” I was an idiot. The biggest. What kinda dumbass answer was that? I was awash with embarrassment. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole.

She laughed. “I’m glad you haven’t. It would make what I was hoping to do tonight a little difficult if you were gay.”

I bit my lower lip. I swallowed again. There was nothing to swallow. My mouth was dry. “And what’s that?”

“I thought you were smart?” She moved the hand she was holding to her chest around her back. She edged it downward and onto her butt. She pressed her chest to mine. I let my hand nervously squeeze a little and I angled my crotch slightly away from her. I didn’t want her knowing how enthusiastic I was.

Nothing was making sense. The girl that seemed to hate me was all over me. She wanted me, it appeared, as much as I wanted her. My fantasies were worming their way into the real world. That had never happened to me before.

I tried my hardest to figure it out. I couldn’t believe she liked me. It just didn’t sit right, not with all the evidence. I think I was just a toy to her. Something to play with. Something to tick off her to do list.

I should have been offended. I was, kinda. But I thought, fuck it. Let her tick me off that list. She was on a list I had too, Girls I’d Love To Do But Never Will, so it would be a mutual ticking.

A fair trade.

The room began to shake. Cynthia held onto me. My feet almost went from under me because of the violent nature of the movement that was surging through our surroundings.

The pipes started to clang even louder than they had been before, some managed to break free of their fastenings. Water started to spurt from some of them, steam shot from others. Dust started to pop from the walls. A cloud engulfed us. The mist surrounded us. There was a thunderous rumble sounding all around.

A whistling noise kicked in. It felt painful enough to pop my eardrums. We both covered our ears with our hands. It helped, but not enough, so I removed them and pulled her tight again.

The power cut off and the room went completely black. Then the shaking and whistling stopped. The power flashed back for a few seconds, the bulb came on. Then, in a bright flash, the bulb smashed to pieces and the room was covered by a impenetrable black shroud. The sound of the spurting water ended just as quick, so did the hissing of the steam.

The cloud around us cleared. Cynthia removed her hands from her ears. “Fuck,” she said.

“That was intense,” I added.

“Mikey!” Cynthia hollered.

“He might still be at his car.”

“Do you think he’s safe?”

“We’re okay, so I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“What happened?”

“I have no idea.”