THE ENEMY WITHIN

THE ENEMY WITHIN Chapter 8

8.

Bursts of neon blue reflected over the algae-ridden pool. Three decrepit chaise lounges looked as if they might collapse in a slight wind. The Paradise Motel fell just shy on the promise of the name.

Dead leaves drifted to the far side of the pool where Max sat on the edge with Vincent. "What would it take to get you to swim in this?" Vincent asked.

"You don't have enough," Max said, eyeing the ooze.

A smile played at the corner of Vincent's lips, but it didn't take a psychology degree to see something weighed on his new ... new what? Friend? Brother? There was a surprising comfort being with Vincent and the others. "It'll be easier if you just say whatever it is," Max said.

Vincent got up and walked along the pool's edge. "We let you down. It may not mean anything, but we searched for you. We really tried." He met Max's eyes then looked away. "Sorry we weren't there when you needed us."

"Seriously, nothing to apologize for. Maybe I wasn't ready to be found. You guys seemed to just roll with whatever was going on. For me, I was getting crushed under it all. I'm not sure there was anything you could've done," Max said.

"Maybe not, but you shouldn't have gone through it alone."

An eighteen-wheeler roared by, and then the night was still save for the neon sign's intermittent buzzing. Not even crickets braved a night in Paradise. "What was it like?" Vincent asked from the far side of the pool. "All the drugs and everything," Vincent said.

"What do you picture?"

"Pretty shitty, I guess. They hold you against your will?" Vincent said, his face hardening.

"Wasn't like that. They're good people." Max had been wondering when to drop this bomb. "We may as well get this out of the way. When things were bad, I just, I couldn't take the pain anymore." He found it a little hard to breathe admitting this. Aside from Doctor Garner, he'd never spoken to anyone about what he went through. Saying it now made him feel unworthy to be with the others.

Vincent must have seen it. "Whatever went on before, it's not who you are now."

"I tried to overdose," he said, rising to be on equal footing. "I'm still alive because my doctor at Hanover, that old guy you saw, he helped me find a way to keep going." He wondered whether Vincent was having second thoughts about his rescue now.

"It's not ... it shouldn't have happened like that," Vincent said, as if he were responsible for Max's pain. "All that matters is you're one of us. You'll never go through it again."

Max nodded, ready to let it go. "Have you thought about what all this means?"

Vincent looked back at him uncertainly. "Which part?"

"All of it. We're proof of what the world's been asking for thousands of years - that life exists beyond earth. That's huge. How can we not share that?"

"When the time's right, they'll know. For now, I just want to take care of what we need to and make sure nothing gets in the way. After that, yeah, definitely."

Something about the way Vincent said it suggested that was the least of his priorities, if it even made the list at all. "You worried what will happen if people find out about us?"

"No ... Maybe. I just don't want to put my life in their hands and end up in a lab for the next twenty years," Vincent said taking an empty beer can and tossing it in the water. The can bobbed over the algae like a buoy.

Max imagined a roomful of overhead lights and a team of surgeons about to cut him open to see if little aliens popped out. Perhaps he shouldn't be in such a rush for the great alien unveiling. "You think that's what would happen?"