Prologue

One Month Ago

Justice ran through the Arizona desert, sweat dripping from his brow, his breathing coming in short spurts as he dodged the cacti and sagebrush. He’d learned the hard way that both would hurt if they brushed against his legs, and the cacti needles would become embedded in his pants. As he knew from experience, that certainly wouldn’t be considered fun; only painful.

Thankfully, he didn’t travel through the desert during the summer. At one hundred and seventeen degrees Fahrenheit, those months had proved to be completely unbearable. Where the sun beat down on this area with such intensity, he would have sworn two years ago that he’d landed directly into the bowels of Hell instead of on Earth.

Taking a swig of water, he wiped his forehead with his hand, hoping to keep some of the liquid out of his eyes to avoid the sting that sweat could bring.

He trudged through this God-awful landscape looking for nothing in particular. Honestly, he simply wanted to get away from his crew of Rescue One and have a little time alone.

The red and brown dirt, large cacti, and small shrubs made for a hostile environment. Yet, with the yellow and red flowers blooming, it held beauty at the same time. With the extreme temperature swings, it didn't seem like a place anyone would want to visit, still, here he stood, a foreigner in a foreign land.

Glancing up at the sky, he guessed the time to be about noon. He’d been on the move since 5:00 a.m., and he should probably turn back if he wanted to reach shelter before dark. No, when the night fell, it would be imperative that he be indoors as his eyes would glow his true SR44 color the moment the sun fell over the horizon. Even though he stood in the middle of the vast wasteland, he couldn’t take the chance of running into a human with his eyes gleaming gray. Chances of that happening would be slim, but it wouldn’t be a bet he was willing to take.

With his black-as-night skin, did he grow hotter than his light-skinned counterparts, or did he just naturally run warm? He’d never discussed it with his group, but perhaps he should. If it were the case, then he probably shouldn’t spend so much time outdoors.

He fought back a wave of defeat, feeling as though this day had once again been a waste of time and energy, as had so may days before this. Bending over and placing his hands on his knees, he watched the sweat drip from his brow and hit the rock, disappearing quickly. He hated that he hadn’t come any closer to completing this simple mission. How many more days would they have to wait? He didn’t know, but he couldn’t let his frustration show. His crew depended on him to lead, and he needed to mask his disappointment and fears.

He stopped and turned around, taking in his surroundings. The strange beauty of the desert stretched as far as his eyes could see, making him think again of a wasteland, but his time here had also taught him that the empty, barren place teemed with life.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled out his notebook and made a note of the time and approximately how far he thought he’d traveled. He’d started tracking his adventures a couple of months ago. It didn’t serve a purpose, but had become a way to fight off a little of the boredom and document his time on Earth.

He couldn’t wait to get home to SR44.

A noise sounded to his right—a low, guttural tone he’d never heard before. Perhaps it could be a hurt coyote, or a Gila Monster? He hoped for neither, as both could turn dangerous in a moment’s time. Most of the time, Glia Monsters lived below ground, but he’d seen a few sunning themselves on rocks or moving through the desert dirt. Not only could they be deadly, but also scary as hell to look at with their black and pink or orange scales.

He heard the noise again and weighed his options. He didn’t want to mess with Nature. If something lay dying in the brush, he shouldn’t upset it, but allow Nature to take her course. However, as the sun beat down on him, he decided a slow demise out in this desolate place may very well be a fate worse than death itself.

Walking warily, he scanned the ground. He certainly didn’t want to tangle with a hurt animal.

The noise reverberated one last time, accompanied by a cough that sounded human.

A moment later, he found his mystery noise-maker.

A male lay among the sagebrush and tumbleweeds, as if he’d tried to cover his body with it, probably to shade himself. His bright red skin indicated he’d seen a few days of sun, and Justice noticed his parched, cracked lips. He moved so that his large frame blocked the sun’s glare from the male’s face.

Slowly, his head turned, and his eyes opened.

“Help me,” the male whispered.

Justice got down on his haunches and pushed away some of the shrubbery away from the man, his mind churning with questions as the sagebrush tore into his skin, small drops of blood popping up. He ignored the slight pain.

First, what in the hell was this male doing out here in the middle of nowhere? He couldn’t very well take him back to where he stayed, since humans couldn’t know about him or his fellow SR44ians. However, he could also tell that this male had been through a lot by his ripped clothing and dry mouth. As he rolled to his side, Justice noticed blood caked on the back of his jeans.

A moral dilemma, indeed. Did he let the male die, or take him back to where he could help him, knowing that he would be exposing himself and his crew to who-knew-what?

He sighed and shook his head. Lifting the male’s head, he brought his canteen he’d pulled from his pack to the parched lips that gratefully accepted the water. As an honorable male, he couldn’t allow anyone to die out in the desert.

“Thank you.”

“C’mon, son,” Justice said, pulling the male to a standing position as he tossed the canteen strap over his shoulder. “What’s your name?”

“Titus. My name’s Titus.”

“Nice to meet you, Titus.” Justice bent down and lifted him over his shoulder. Standing at six-foot-five and weighing in at a solid two-hundred-and-eighty pounds, Titus would be a burden, but one he could handle. “We’ve got a long walk ahead of us. Let me know when you need to stop and rest.”

As he trudged through the landscape with Titus’ head and hands bobbing against his back with each step, he sighed. It would be a long trek to the place he called home.