Carver Pike - Scalp

If it’s even alive. You nailed that damn thing right in the jaw.

Hurting animals wasn’t his thing, and he felt horrible for having hit the dog, but he was convinced that thing wasn’t right in the head. In his mind, there were only two reasons to ever hurt an animal. For meat, if you’re a hunter and for safety, if yours or anyone else’s life is in danger.

Damn mutt .

Hal was angry with the dog, but he was also angry with himself. Maybe if he’d left a few minutes earlier, he never would have had that encounter with the beast.

Nah. It was coming for you. It needed to be put down.

Hal shook his head in disappointment as he shifted into a higher gear and headed toward work. There was only one place Andre could be hiding that might have made a lick of sense. It was close to his crash site. Yet, right now it was crawling with teenagers.

He needed to visit Stonewall Forge before his work shift began.

“What do you think the group was missing in last night’s movie?”

When the head of the conference, Mrs. Leyla Price, asked the question, Nitsy smiled because everyone else had gone to bed after the sci-fi horror flick. To most of them, it was simply a fun night with new friends. Nitsy knew there was more to it than that. In a place like this, there was always a lesson to be taught. The movie wasn’t scary. Not really. It was some alien film and the reason they’d been made to watch it was clear. Leadership. That was what this conference was all about, and in the movie, the crew of a spaceship suffered from having faulty leadership. Too much squabbling between the captain and co-captain.

Nitsy raised her hand.

“Yes?” Mrs. Price asked, pointing one of her long, blood-red polished fingers at Nitsy. The woman was kind looking with big, frizzy black hair and a smile that was almost too big, kind of clownish. Her charcoal suit was ironed and was shiny from all the starch she’d used. Mrs. Price was a professional through and through, and she was waiting for Nitsy’s answer.

“The crew of the Falcon was lacking in leadership,” Nitsy replied proudly.

“Excellent,” the conference leader exclaimed. “Exactly. The Falcon crew had its own drama from within, which definitely wasn’t helping when the alien parasite snuck aboard their ship. So… that will be today’s theme. In your groups, you will find a place to work. You will be given a list of crew positions and responsibilities to distribute. You will need to come up with a name for yourselves… like ‘The Falcon.’ Draw, paint, or digitally create your group’s spacecraft. I want to know all about it. How you get your food and water, what kind of protection system your ship has… all the information is in the packet you’ll be receiving. Use your time wisely and most importantly, have fun with this.”

Group members instantly began whispering ideas. Nitsy waited to hear the end of Mrs. Price’s speech. Every word was important. She couldn’t wait to get started. That captain position was going to be hers.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Mrs. Price continued, “when we reconvene tomorrow morning, I want to be wowed. Your team leader, or captain, must be prepared to answer questions and your team should be ready to handle any alien lifeform I throw your way. The captain of the winning crew will have a shot at running for this year’s Stonewall Forge President.” Mrs. Price walked away and could be heard saying, “This is going to be so exciting.”

Nitsy was elated. She’d never been involved in an activity like this one. The teachers at her school seemed to believe the only good lesson came from a book, or if a student failed a test, they’d add that failure was the best teacher. Of course, not all her educators were lazy. Mr. Henshaw, the science teacher, was pretty good at coming up with dynamic ways to help students learn, but he’d never challenged them with anything this exciting.

After a short team meeting where it was decided Nitsy would be the team leader, the students were ushered off to lunch. Kids shuffled slow step by slow step through the buffet-style line. Robbie was a few feet ahead of her when she heard him grumble to the lady serving food, “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but I’m type 2 diabetic and I was wondering if you guys have anything that’s not pasta.”

The attendant, who was about to dump a heaping ice cream scooper full of chili-mac onto his plate, pulled her hand back and pointed to the next counter. “There’s sandwiches over there.”

“Anything without bread?” he asked.

The woman rolled her eyes, so Nitsy stepped in front of the few people ahead of her in line, grabbed Robbie by his arm, and said, “There’s a salad bar over here. I guess I should be eating better too.”

He smiled at her. “Thanks.”

“I didn’t know you were diabetic,” Nitsy said.

Robbie turned around and his face was red. “It’s kind of new. I was having dizzy spells and well, you know, parents rush you off to the doctor and bam, just like that, you have a new health issue.”

A new health issue? What other health issues does he have?

As he piled fresh lettuce and other vegetables onto his plate, he said, “Please, don’t tell anyone about this.”

“About what?” she asked.

“You know… me being diabetic.”

She hadn’t realized it was something he was embarrassed about, but she would never tell a secret that wasn’t hers to tell.

“I promise I won’t,” she said.

Robbie smiled, and from that point on, Nitsy knew they would be friends. She was shocked to find he wasn’t as immune to the problems of the common man as she’d believed him to be. He had issues too. Only, he kept his secret, and she was pretty sure she knew why. He wouldn’t want everyone on his baseball team knowing he was diabetic. It was silly really. It wasn’t like having issues with sugar made him weak, but in a young boy’s mind, he couldn’t be Superman anymore if the world knew his kryptonite.

“So, you going to be the leader of your group project?” Nitsy asked as she followed him to an empty table and sat down across from him. He was the leader type and if anybody could handle the job, it was Robbie, so it surprised her when he shook his head.

“Really?” she asked.

He stabbed a cherry tomato with his fork. “Why do you seem so surprised?”

“No reason. You’d be good at it, that’s all.”

“Nah, not me. I don’t feel like being hit with a bunch of questions later. Plus, I’m not into public speaking. I get all marble-mouthed when I have to speak in front of a crowd.”

She almost spit out her food. By the second, Robbie was tearing down this tough guy image she’d always had of him.

“ You have a fear of public speaking?” she nearly yelled.

“I take it you don’t.”

Now that she thought about it, she didn’t like it much either. Her palms always got sweaty and her throat would get dry. If she took on this leadership role today, she’d have to speak later. She decided she needed to face this demon if she had any shot at slaying it. She’d confronted death this year, and she figured she could go face-to-face with public speaking too.

“I wouldn’t call it a fear,” she finally answered. “I’m not exactly excited about it, but I can handle it.”

He chuckled as he stabbed a cucumber slice and shoved it into his mouth. “Man, you really are a tough chick, aren’t you, Nitsy?”

He thinks you’re tough.

“I can hold my own,” she said.

“Mind if I sit with y’all?” came a voice with a sweet southern accent.

Nitsy looked up to see the blonde Robbie had been talking to as they’d lined up at the entrance yesterday. She was even prettier up close. Finally, Nitsy said, “Sure.”