Stuffed beyond reason and tired beyond exhaustion, they stumbled the hundred or so feet from the fast-food joint to their room. They entered, joking about the ridiculousness of some of the advertising in the Dairy Queen and the Burger King and failed to notice Dick Laymon with a shotgun sitting on a chair in the corner.
When they did, they stopped, and only the closing of the door behind them and the cocking of another shotgun made them turn and see a middle-aged woman they’d never seen before, holding the weapon at waist level, determination in her eyes and a jaw well set.
“What the hell?” Shanny said first.
“I have to say,” Dick began, “you three have survived longer than most. Especially you, Matthew Fryer, who is supposed to be dead.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Matt said.
Ethan thought back to the awkward conspiracy theorist at the entrance counter to the Thing and how he’d professed to seeing an alien when he was fifteen.
“How do you know my last name?” Matt asked.
“Biometrics. We have cameras all through the exhibit.”
“I don’t understand,” Matt said.
“I wouldn’t expect a dead man to understand.” Dick grinned. “Pretty smooth faking your own death.
“Anne and I spent years hunting down proof of alien contact. Whenever we’d get close, government men would swoop in right before us to either destroy the evidence or remove it so we couldn’t find it.” He sighed heavily. “It was just getting to be so tiresome.”
“But then Dicky, here, had an idea,” Anne said, making them all turn to her.
Shanny stood in the middle, with Ethan and Matt on either side of her.
“He came up with the brilliant idea of hunting other hunters.” She took her left hand off the barrel and gestured around. “Thus we built this place.”
Ethan noted that the rifle lowered when she made the gesture and filed it in the back of his mind.
“For twenty years we’ve been searching for other bone hunters. They can’t help but stop here. After all, the Thing might be what they’re looking for, or perhaps a clue to get there. Isn’t that why you stopped?”
“We stopped because we were tired and needed to rest,” Ethan said.
“That’s not what Matt said,” Dick said.
Ethan turned to glare at Matt, who was staring at the ground. They both knew had he not mentioned the bone hunt and tantalized Dick with the idea that they knew of a secret cache of alien bones that they wouldn’t be in this predicament.
“Well, Matt has a big mouth,” Ethan said.
Matt glanced at him, shame carving his features.
“So what is it you want?” Shanny asked through clenched teeth.
“Your information, of course. Location of the bones. Basically everything you know.”
“And you think you’re going to get it by pointing those at us?” Shanny asked, taking a step forward.
“Easy, young lady. I’ve shot and killed before and will not hesitate to do it again. You’re in one of the few units we haven’t renovated. Renovation normally comes when we need to get rid of a body. Nothing like burying bodies in new concrete floors. No one would ever suspect that they were standing on someone else’s grave inside a hotel room. Tell us what we want to know, and you won’t have to be part of the motel.”
Ethan knew the better of it. By the look of worry Shanny passed to him, she did, too. No way were these two going to let them leave now that they knew about the disposition of old bodies. They were going to need to provide a ruse and see if they couldn’t get the weapons away from one or both of them. But before he could devise a plan, Matt ruined it.
“I was just making all of that up,” Matt said.
Dick laughed. “Why would these two get so mad when they found out what you said if it was all made up? Come on. You can do better than that.”
“Plus, you three don’t look like the kind who would normally travel together,” Anne said.
“Look,” Shanny said to Dick. “We could tell you the location of the bones, and then you could kill us. But you have no idea of the other information we have or who we have chasing us.”
“Chasing you?” Anne asked.
Shanny didn’t turn toward her but said, “Yes. Chasing us. The last two weeks with these guys has made the entire series run of The X-Files look tame. The things we’ve seen and the conspiracies we’ve pierced have been mind-boggling.”
Ethan listened and had no idea what she was talking about, but decided to roll with it. “We’re actually happy that you weren’t one of those chasing us. They kill everyone and anyone. I can tell just by the way you’re talking to us that you’re totally different from them. You’re human, after all.”
Dick stood, his eyes narrowing. “What do you mean, we’re human?”
Ethan sighed. “Just what I said. You’re human.”
“Those who are chasing you aren’t?” Dick asked, awe rather than doubt coloring his words.
Ethan watched Shanny as she shifted her balance.
“They could even be out there as we speak,” she said, emphasizing the words out there.
“Do you mean right outside?” Anne asked, a quaver of excitement in her voice. The barrel of the shotgun dipped toward the carpet as her right hand gestured toward the parking lot.
Shanny took advantage of the moment, spinning toward Anne. Shanny grabbed the shotgun and use her centrifugal momentum to rip the weapon free.
Anne made a squeaking sound just as the barrel of the shotgun was pressed firmly into her stomach.
Shanny used the barrel to turn the woman so that Shanny was now in her position. Anne’s back was to the room. Ethan saw the determination on Shanny’s face and knew that her army training might just have saved them.
“Wait a damned minute,” Dick said. The barrel of his shotgun shifted first to Matt, then to Ethan.
“Put your gun down and I’ll let her live,” Shanny said.
“You’ll let her live?” Dick repeated, the words making his voice rise in pitch.
“You’ve pissed off the wrong person. There are people chasing us, but not who you think. But having you two holding a weapon against me brings my PTSD into tight focus. I’m ready to just start firing and not stop until this weapon clicks empty.” She paused, and if it was for effect, it worked. “I’ve been shot at. I’ve almost been blown up. Too much time in Iraq and too much time on the road has worn my self-discipline wire thin. So unless you lay your damned shotgun on the bed, Mr. Laymon, I can’t promise that I won’t cut your wife in half with shotgun pellets.”
Ethan could see Dick hesitating and prayed that he wasn’t about to do the same to them.
“And don’t count on me caring about these two right now, Mr. Laymon. I’ve about had it up to my eyeballs with other people pointing guns at me, and this is the last time it’s going to happen. I’ll give you to the count of three. If you want to shoot these two, then feel free. But the moment you do, Anne is dead. Now I’m going to start. One. Two.”
Dick hurriedly placed the shotgun on the bed and stepped back.
Matt dodged forward and grabbed the weapon, and soon had the working end pointing at Dick.
Ethan realized that he hadn’t been breathing and inhaled deeply.
“You, join your husband,” Shanny said.
Soon, the older couple stood in the corner of the motel room, arms around each other, both staring nervously at the weapons they had so recently held.
Shanny stepped beside Ethan and gave him a sideways grin. “Talk about a clusterfuck,” she said. “Matt?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Let’s not talk about what we’re doing anymore. Even if it’s just to fuck with someone.”
“Okay, Shanny.”
“We clear on that?” she asked.
“Yes. Definitely.”
“Good. Then let’s figure out what we’re going to do with these two.”
Ethan nodded. “We can always remodel one of the motel rooms.”
Dick and Anne began to visibly shake.