Chapter Two
Juliana Masters sat in the cramped reception area of the Big Bang Truck Stop manager’s office, waiting for an audience with the man in charge of this place. There were only two chairs, and one was the receptionist’s. Juliana was apparently next in line after an attractive man carrying a gray piece of paper like it was a sacred scroll went in without consulting the receptionist. Four elderly women had exited, seemingly in a bad temper, and Mr. Gray Paper had nodded politely at each of the fearsome foursome as they passed.
Nova, the receptionist, had stared at Juliana intently for quite a long time before scurrying off to ask her boss if he was available for an interview.
One of the seniors, a feisty-looking lady with very ornate fingernails that featured what looked like 3-D planets on each tip, glanced at Juliana.
Leaning down, she said, “Whatever you’re here to ask, don’t get your hopes up. He’s in an especially foul mood today.” She turned to her friends. “Come on, girls. Let’s get back to town and try to think up another idea for a fundraiser.”
If the manager was already in a foul mood, maybe this impromptu visit had been a bad idea. Then again, she needed the manager’s cooperation. She was certain he had information she couldn’t get anywhere else to confirm or reasonably debunk all the rumors she’d heard about the large truck stop and the town of Alienn. She needed a reliable source to help her find the truth.
For starters, how did Alienn, Arkansas get its name? Could it truly be so obvious? Were there aliens living here? It seemed like a bad way to hide, but perhaps it was brilliant in its simplicity. If there were aliens roaming around, how long had they been here? If not, was the whole alien theme only a marketing gimmick?
One way or another, she planned to find out so she could finish her article and send it in to Finder’s. She could really use the big payoff the popular travel magazine and blog had promised if she completed the special assignment and either proved the existence of aliens, past or present, in Alienn, or found some other interesting reason why Alienn, Arkansas should be included in her article.
Finder’s wanted to do a book on extra-special places to visit, where unique possibilities of alien or strange happenings had been proven or at least not completely debunked. There had been rumors for years that extraterrestrials were running around Alienn, Arkansas, but Juliana didn’t believe them.
Her take was that secrets were very difficult to keep. If there were truly aliens in residence here, someone would have outed them a long time ago and made a ton of money or debunked the rumors and, well…probably made a ton of money. It was the general lack of substantial proof either way that she found the most intriguing.
Juliana reached into her pocket, pulled out her cell phone and checked to ensure that indeed she had zero service here. That was one thing she’d love to figure out once and for all. Why was there no service for a ten-mile radius around the town of Alienn, which included the truck stop on its southern edge by Route 88? It could be her closing argument. She’d be done and then she could finish this article, get paid and get on with her life. Such as it was.
Her phone had gone from full bars to no bars the moment she’d gotten within exactly ten miles of the truck stop. That’s also where the signs started. The blatantly large, very well-lit billboards could not be missed as travelers made their way toward Alienn, Arkansas and the Big Bang Truck Stop.
Maxwell the Martian, a short, scrawny-bodied cartoon alien with gray skin, a big head, lively oversized blue eyes and a smile shaping his small mouth, started extolling the virtues of the Big Bang Truck Stop, only ten miles ahead, with the very first sign.
Every mile all the way toward the town limits of Alienn, Arkansas, was a different billboard with Maxwell the Martian proclaiming the amazing accolades of the truck stop. For example, “Stop in Alienn for out of this world prices!”; “Keep on Truckin’ to Alienn, Arkansas for gas and snacks so you can keep on truckin’ to your favorite destination!”; and “Alienn, Arkansas…Where you get a Big Bang for your Buck!”
She’d been intrigued and amused, reading each sign out loud as she drove along the highway, forgetting momentarily about her lack of phone service. Soon it would be dusk, and depending on how long this took, she’d definitely be driving home in the dark. At least it was less than an hour back home to Doraydo.
In the distance, maybe half a mile from the Big Bang Truck Stop, the town’s water tower was eye-catching in the fading sunlight. The tank was cleverly painted to look like a flying saucer with a 3-D version of Maxwell the Martian hanging off the side as if for dear life, but with his signature goofy smile in place as if he merely rode an amusement park roller coaster and not an out-of-control space craft about to crash to Earth.
This whole place was over the top. The truck stop itself was probably half the size of the small town of Alienn, perched on the edge of the city limits on the semi-major Route 88 that connected Mississippi and Texas through southern Arkansas.
Juliana had inquired about the manager at the convenience store. It was seemingly the hub of the whole place, given that it was a truck stop and the primary reason people stopped in town was for fuel.
The name Diesel Grey had been whispered behind a hand when she met with Pete Harriman, who’d assigned her to write the tell-all article. Mr. Harriman would proffer her piece to Finder’s for evaluation and inclusion in the next special edition travel book. He was one of the editors for the project.
Mr. Harriman, one of her former teachers at the university in Doraydo, whispered most of the information as if the space aliens he believed in might be listening in on their conversation some way, somehow.
She was dubious about each and every word he said, but she figured that would make her article all the more credible. “Once I was a disbeliever, but now I see the truth. Aliens do walk among us and here’s my proof.” Or something like that.
Unless she didn’t find anything credible. Then her article would be more factual, the discover for yourself if all the rumors are truly debunked approach.
Either way, she simply wanted to get the promised large paycheck and…well, get on with her life. Maybe she needed to adopt the truck stop’s slogan as a personal motto for life: keep on truckin’.
From hidden speakers in every part of the truck stop she’d visited so far, ’80s music, and only ’80s music, played non-stop. Juliana found herself bobbing her head to a raucous oldies tune belted out by Cyndi Lauper. She had to forcefully make her body stop wanting to bop to the music.
The convenience store clerk who had directed Juliana to the manager’s office wore a nametag that said: Welcome, Earthling! My name is Paulo. He’d pointed toward a good-sized hallway at the back corner of the building. Past the Space Gals and Space Guys bathrooms, an arched doorway opened into a room to the right. The hallway continued through a second archway to, Juliana assumed, the manager’s office, judging by the humorous sign mounted above the door. Apparently in keeping with the truck stop’s extraterrestrial theme, he wasn’t the manager, but the Fearless Leader. Perfect.
She wondered what kind of man Diesel Grey was. When she’d asked the receptionist—her Welcome, Earthling nametag helpfully identified her as Nova—at the pin-neat desk if she could speak to the manager, the woman paused for quite a long time before finally asking, “You mean you’d like to speak to Our Fearless Leader?”
Juliana nodded politely.
Nova was a bit strange and off-putting for a receptionist. She stared at Juliana so intently she wondered sardonically if she’d been mind-probed. Or was the receptionist trying to scare her off with an angry look? Good luck with that. Juliana needed Diesel Grey’s cooperation to complete this article. She hoped he’d be willing to send her into a new direction that would help ensure her write-up could be included in the book. She wanted to find one little piece of unproven information to include in her article. Or perhaps a tiny, tantalizing fact that readers wouldn’t be able to prove or disprove for themselves. And it would be great if it was info no one else had ever discovered.
That would be perfect. It was unlikely, but she could dream.
A single heated look from a receptionist wasn’t going to scare her off. Not much was going to scare her off unless a strange creature with slimy gray skin and three eyes walked up and introduced itself. But she didn’t actually believe in aliens from outer space, so she felt fairly safe in the thesis of her article so far. Her take: it was likely all a big suggestive hoax to make a buck.
She’d gotten all of her background information from a source Mr. Harriman had spoken to. His name was Norm—no last name given—and Juliana had sworn never to reveal that this source had talked. As if she could.
Juliana didn’t know who the person was, had no way to find out and she wasn’t certain if the most scandalous tidbit would stand up to scrutiny. All she had were a few notes that Mr. Harriman had scribbled down on the back of a bar napkin based on his conversation with Norm. It was so outlandish it couldn’t possibly be true, but she was ready to give it a shot.
It might be the one thing she could use to put her article over the edge and into the publish pile for the book deal.
“Wait here,” Nova had said after a few more seconds of close scrutiny. She hurried through the second archway toward the office of the man…or whatever was in charge of this place.
Waiting for the Fearless Leader of the Big Bang Truck Stop had given her idle time to check her phone repeatedly. She truly did not have a single thread of service. Not a blip. Not even a whisper. Her phone wasn’t even trying to find a signal anymore. Stupid useless thing. She tucked it back in her purse out of sight and took out her steno pad and pen.
If nothing else, she could at least find out the reason for the lack of cellular service in the area. Did the whole township and the truck stop really only have hard-wired lines? In this day and age?
She didn’t know what she’d been expecting the Fearless Leader to look like. Maybe a life-sized version of Maxwell the Martian in a bad Halloween costume, or a guy with skin painted the color of old gravestones. The tall, handsome man who strolled out to greet her was completely unexpected. She stood up on surprisingly weak legs as he approached.
He had dark blond hair, vivid blue eyes, a five o’clock shadow covering his solid jaw and chin, plus a wide, engaging smile that almost made her forget her own name. Unlike every other employee she’d seen, he wasn’t wearing silver lamé, but a blue denim shirt open at the throat, nicely fitted black jeans and hiking boots.
There was no sign of Nova. Not that Juliana would have spared the other woman a glance right now.
“Hello. I’m Diesel Grey. I’m in charge of the Big Bang Truck Stop. What can I do for you today…Juliana, is it?” He extended his hand and grasped her fingers in a firm grip. She literally felt a bit of spark when their hands connected. And she liked it, holding on way too long. She also stared at his face for way too long.
He seemed to recognize the flash of the connection. His gaze darted to their hands before leaping back to her eyes.
She finally released his hand and looked down at her steno pad as if holding her own version of an alien artifact, trying to remember why she was here. Juliana took a deep breath and pulled the pen from the spiral wire of the well-used notebook to stall for time. Her embarrassingly girly notions of attraction refused to fade.
Unsure of the level of professionalism she’d exhibit at the moment, she pressed forward anyway.
“Yes. That’s right. Juliana Masters.” She cleared her throat and chanced a look into his face again. “I’m a writer working on an article for Finder’s for a special book project,” she managed to say without her voice hitting a high tenor, squeaking or going out altogether. It was a miracle.
His eyes narrowed slightly, as if he couldn’t possibly figure out why she was here to see him, but his engaging smile remained undiminished. She hoped he wouldn’t kick her out when she told him what she wanted.
“And how can I help you with that?”
“I’d like to ask you about the rumors surrounding Alienn, Arkansas.”
“Rumors?” His voice had a deep timbre. It was sexy, very easy to listen to and…what had she asked?
His smile widened to a grin, the expression giving his already handsome features a whole new beautiful visage. Words dried up in her throat. Her head was no help—nothing at all in there—as she stared at him for way, way too long again.
“What rumors are you talking about?” he clarified. His tone was amused, as if he knew exactly what she was going to ask and was planning on making her say the words out loud.
Touché.
She cleared her throat again but lowered her gaze and said, “The rumors that, one, aliens already live among us and they have for quite some time without being discovered and that, two, you and your entire extended family living in Alienn are from another planet.” Her gaze lifted to his face as she completed her volatile sentence.
His smile faded to zero humor. His brows furrowed sternly. Even his frown was attractive. “Sorry, puny earthling. I can’t allow you to reveal our secret plan to infiltrate and take over this planet.” He put two fingers to his temple. “Now I’ll have to use my mind control ability to make you forget why you’re here and send you on your way none the wiser.”
<^> <^> <^>
Juliana sucked in an audible breath. He stared into her eyes, unblinking and serious for three solid seconds.
Did he really think he could control her mind? She closed her eyes, bracing to fight off an alien mind probe, ready to concentrate on keeping her thoughts alive and all hers. When nothing out of the ordinary happened, she squeezed her eyelids tighter and waited some more.
After a few more seconds, he whispered, “Is it working? Do you remember your name or why you’ve come here, puny earthling?”
Juliana’s eyes popped open to see his reacquired and very amused expression. She resisted the urge to sigh out loud as she realized she was being made fun of.
She understood why. It was foolish to have started out the way she did. “Very funny.”
“I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, but I couldn’t seem to resist.” He lowered his fingers from his temple and crossed his arms. Somehow this made him look even taller and more masculine and more handsome.
Shake it off, girl. He’s only a man.
As she thought it, another half-smile formed on his lips and his eyes seemed to liven with interest. Stop it. He can’t read your mind.
She shook off her paranoia. “No. That’s okay. I had that coming.”
“Are you really writing an article for a special Finder’s book project?”
“Yes. Of course. It’s in conjunction with the university I just graduated from. That’s how I got the job.”
“Can you prove it?”
“Prove I’m with the university or Finder’s?”
“Either one.”
Juliana let out a single bark of laughter, but reached for her purse when his inquisitive expression didn’t change. She’d just accused him of being an alien from another planet with an alarming agenda. The least she could do was prove she was legit and not some irrational, persecuted crazy person on a journey of insanity.
Pushing aside her useless cell phone, she grabbed her wallet and pulled out the ID part. On one side was a business card from Finder’s. On the other, behind the clear plastic holder, was her recent student ID. She held that out for his perusal.
He leaned forward and studied it for quite a long time. There wasn’t much on there, just a bad picture that looked like she’d arrived at the registration desk after a drunken lost weekend for a photo that would haunt her for her entire college career. It also featured her date of birth, major field of study, the official school logo, and a student number next to a bar code that gave her access to campus facilities. It wasn’t technically valid, since it was fall and she’d graduated at the end of the spring semester. Either way, Diesel seemed to be memorizing it. Was he about to say something disparaging about her awful picture? She yanked her hand back, breaking his concentration.
“Did you get all that?” she asked, wondering what he’d been so focused on.
“I think so. Thanks. Interesting picture. It almost looks like you.”
“Be that as it may, you can see I was a student. I do have a diploma, but I don’t have it with me. Finally, I also have a Finder’s editorial number if you want to call and check up on me.”
“That won’t be necessary and I did see that you were a student.”
“Yes. My major was in communications.”
“I saw that listed as well. Did you study alien communications, by chance?” His brow quirked up, as did one corner of his mouth. Was there nothing about him she didn’t find attractive? Juliana was off her game.
“Not yet. Maybe next time I go to college.” In fact, she was done with higher education for now. She planned to finish this article, deposit a big fat check in her account, and set out on a long-awaited trip back to the Northwest. And eventually she wanted a family and a life that wasn’t so solitary.
“What do you want, specifically? Are you expecting me to outline my alien plan to take over Earth? I’m not sure I can, because that’s very highly classified.”
“You’re so funny.” She forced herself to relax, put a smile on her face and try not to take offense at his continued teasing.
“Thanks. It helps to have a sense of humor in this job. What is it you think I can help you with, Juliana?”
I love the way you say my name.
His smile widened and the force of his stare increased. He was seriously hot.
“Mostly, I wondered if there were any big incidents in the area’s past that could have caused rumors like those swirling around Roswell. From what I hear, you’re really plugged into everything that goes on around here. That’s why I thought you could help me. Was there something odd or unexplained that gave Alienn, Arkansas its reputation for being a haven for extraterrestrials? Any UFO crashes? Or mass abductions reported locally? Anything like that? I’ve looked at some historical records, of course, but nothing jumps out. Perhaps I’m not looking in the right place, or nothing was written down and all the good stories are oral ones. If I could have some little-known fact to include in my article, it would really help me out.”
Diesel Grey—what a name—shrugged. “Well, I personally believe it’s the name our small town was given that gets people talking. Technically, we were named after the woman who founded the place over a hundred years ago. Her name was Alienne Greenly.” He spelled it out, but pronounced it I-lean, with a slight Arkansas-flavored Southern twang. She liked that quite a lot, too. “When the official papers were drawn up, somebody wrote down Alienn instead, dropping that last E.” He shrugged again, lifting one muscular shoulder and letting it drop.
“Quite a mistake somebody made all those years ago.”
“True. No one ever said why the E was left off the end, although I suspect laziness on some bygone bureaucrat’s part. Maybe by the time they realized the small mistake, the papers had been officially filed and it was too late to change it. Or there was a cost associated and they didn’t want to spend the money.” He flashed another killer grin and she swore her knees weakened. “But I will say that for whatever reason, it has been awesome for our marketing department for many years now.”
“I’ll bet it is.” Juliana returned his grin with a sincere one of her own. “Maxwell the Martian is obviously quite well known all along Route 88 in southern Arkansas.”
He nodded and cocked his head to one side. “Want to meet him?”
“Maxwell the Martian?”
“Yes.”
She tilted her head to one side as well. “Is it you and you’re about to shapeshift into a scrawny three-foot-tall alien with big blue eyes? Because I would really love to see that. Also, will you allow me to record it on my phone?” She started to dig around in her purse one-handed.
He shook his head ruefully. “Sorry, I’d never show you any shapeshifting skills on a first date.”
Juliana stared into his expressive, beautiful face. “Is that what this is? A first date?”
“I find it interesting that the part you latched onto was the possible first date and not any shapeshifting skills I may have.”
“You’ve already tried to destroy my memories with your alien mind control. If you could shapeshift, you probably would have done so already to scare me off.”
“Well, I guess you’ve got me there.” Another toe-curling smile shaped his lips. “Maxwell is down there.” He pointed over her shoulder at the end of the hallway to an end cap display she hadn’t noticed on her way in.
She did notice he hadn’t confirmed or denied whether this interlude was a first date. Perhaps this was dating alien-style. I should be so lucky.
They walked down the hallway side by side. Her arm bumped into his a couple of times as they moved, sending a thrill down her spine each time they connected. Whew. She needed to calm down.
A small, telephone booth-shaped box with a square glass top stood flush against the end cap. She realized it was similar to an old-fashioned fortune-teller booth. Put a dime in the slot and the fortune teller would shoot out a card from below so you could get a glimpse into your future.
In this case, instead of a turbaned soothsayer behind the glass, a three-foot-high Maxwell the Martian doll occupied the space, complete with a goofy big-eyed stare, infectious grin and one finger pointing at a button on the face of the box.
“What do I have to do, put in some money?”
“Nope, just push the big red button with the palm of your hand.” Diesel took her wrist and placed her palm against the four-inch-wide button. His fingers slid over the back of her hand to exert enough force to push the button.
The connection between the two of them was electric. If her hand wasn’t covered by his, it would be visibly shaking.
He moved close, hovering over her, their bodies almost but not quite touching. At least, not at first. Maxwell started moving in a jerky fashion and Diesel leaned in behind her, exerting more pressure on her hand.
When he made first contact with his chest against her shoulder, she inhaled deeply, taking in a big dose of his wonderful scent. His chest remained connected to her back, his palm pressed firmly on her hand. He was warm and tall and he smelled really good. Inside the box, Maxwell’s lips started moving in a jerky, mechanical fashion.
“Bing Boing Boppity Bop Boing Bing Bing!” Maxwell said.
Diesel kept his hand on hers for five more seconds until a small gray slip of paper the size of a business card shot out of a slot next to the button.
“There you go.” He slowly pulled his hand from hers, easing his chest away from her back. She immediately missed his touch.
Juliana reached for the card, unwilling to admit her hand trembled slightly from the recent contact with the Fearless Leader.
On one side of the gray business card was the Big Bang Truck Stop logo, a semi-truck with the words keep on truckin’ on the side panel coming around a ringed planet. Along the bottom, a message said, “Welcome, Earthling! Present this card to the cashier for a 5% discount on gas!”
“Awesome, a coupon.” Her tone did not convey a single shred of enthusiasm.
“Look on the other side. That’s where your official Maxwell the Martian fortune will be.”
She flipped the card over, expecting to see something like, “You will meet a tall, gorgeous stranger.” Already have, thank you very much.
A short rumble of laughter sounded from Diesel’s chest, but he only smiled when she glanced over her shoulder at him. Juliana focused on the words printed on the card and felt her cheeks heat: “Maxwell the Martian says, Our Fearless Leader thinks you’re very pretty, too.”