It also meant he'd need a few more samples. Tsij knew what he had to do. He needed to get to someplace with a much larger concentration of humans, and he needed to find a way to bump into them without raising any questions. In other words, he should probably attend one of their mating rituals. He believed they called it clubbing.
Of course, he didn't have any identification, but it wouldn't be hard to slip past the guard at the door. No, the bouncer. They called them bouncers. Guards were usually armed and protected something more valuable than the entrance to a celebration.
He'd also need to look the part. Trying to remember what he'd read about how human males dressed in this century, he leaned closer to the vent. Tight-fitting clothing was typically chosen if the male was in tolerable physical shape. If he wanted to appeal to women with his mental acuity, he would be more likely to choose loose-fitting clothing. Unfortunately, Tsij didn't feel comfortable enough with either his grasp of the language or his cultural awareness.
He did have a physique that human women should find appealing. Tall, broad-shouldered, and well-muscled, the life of most Gahnek required them to be physically capable or they became something's meal before they were old enough to have children of their own. He was proud of the fact that he'd not only lived long enough to apply for the interstellar voyage to study Earth, but he'd been easily accepted. In other words, if he dressed the part, human females should come to him willingly, making it that much easier to find one that would be the cure for his disease.
Chapter Seven
The crowd to get into the club was impressive, meaning Hailey had to wait in line. Pandora's Box was always popular, but it was the only place that appealed to the younger generation in this sleepy resort town. With the influx of tourists, many of them being college students, the line was backed up half a block. Across the street, the country bar was also filled, but only a handful of people still waited outside the doors to have their ID checked.
Hailey shuffled along as the line moved, checking her makeup in the mirrored windows beside her like so many other girls. Unlike them, she wasn't with a cluster of her friends. Usually, she was happiest with her own company, and she'd never really managed to meet anyone. She just couldn't make herself take that first step. Speaking to a stranger always made her feel stupid, so it was just easier to be available and wait for someone else to try. Unfortunately, not many did. Carter had, though - the guy who'd gotten her the job at the Pink Flamingo. Waiting was how she'd met Miles too, although that hadn't exactly worked out so well.
But tonight, at least she wouldn't look out of place dancing and drinking on her own. Not with this many people around. And who knew, with all the out-of-towners, maybe she'd convince herself to be brave. Watching a group of men meander through the entrance, she hoped so. Most of these guys wouldn't remember her in the morning, and the rest would leave as soon as the military took down the barricades.
And the guys manning the quarantine were here as well. It was pretty easy to tell who was with the National Guard. They all had short haircuts and clothes that weren't quite suitable for clubbing, but close enough. Jeans and t-shirts mostly. A few had made an attempt, streaking their buzz cuts with neon hair gel, but most were just here for the music and the cheap beer.
By the time she managed to step inside, the club was hopping. Heavy bass pounded from all sides, people writhed on the dance floor, and the lights were flashing. Brilliant strobes, a small stand of lasers cutting through the haze of vapor, and a retro-looking disco ball hanging from the ceiling made it feel festive in a way that she needed - but first, a little liquid courage.
She started with a hurricane. The plastic glass was large enough that she might not need a second. Slipping through the crowd with her tight body-con shirt accenting her curves with large blocks of brilliant chartreuse along both sides, she noticed a few heads turn. Most likely, it was her attire, but then again, military men weren't exactly known to be picky. She smiled flirtatiously at one but kept going.
The strangest thing was the number of people with allergies. Red eyes seemed to be everywhere, and most people seemed to be either coughing or sneezing. Not that it would stop them. She giggled at her own thoughts. The age-old drive to find a good time was just too strong, especially with half-priced drinks. And hers was doing its job well.
By the time she reached the dance floor, she'd already consumed half of it, a pleasantly warm feeling spreading through her. She sucked back the rest quickly, hoping it would make her just tipsy enough to be stupid, then joined the mob. Hopefully, being a drunk dork would make her seem a little more approachable.
She bounced and twitched, a smile taking over her face as she looked for someone to try out her new-found friendliness on. A guy to her right was cute. He was getting into the music, not ashamed of singing the words at the top of his lungs, and seemed to be alone. She danced in his direction, trying to think of how she'd get his attention, then paused.
Another guy stepped close behind him, wrapping his arm around her target's waist. She wanted to groan in frustration. Of course she'd picked out the gay guy. Zero for one, Hailey, she told herself before she began looking for a new target.
That was when she saw him. Leaning against the wall in a shadow, scanning the crowd, the guy from the coffee shop made no attempt to join in the fun. Standing by himself with the same grey knit hat covering his hair, he inspected everyone that passed. He'd seemed nice enough, and since she still didn't know his name, maybe she should just make her way over there and ask? With her head feeling just a bit fuzzy, it seemed like the most brilliant idea she'd ever had.
Halfway across the dance floor, with her eyes locked on the sexy man in the long, dark trench coat, she watched a beautiful blonde beat her to him. The hunk smiled - what man wouldn't with as much skin as the girl was showing - and stepped closer to her. In rhythm with the music, the strobes hit, alternating blinding white flashes with ultraviolet light, turning the world into a blur of positive and negative images. Like so many people around her, the colors of the blonde's clothes glowed in the blacklight, her hair flashing in the white, and the world turned into a stop motion movie.
The crowd screamed, but Hailey's feet paused. Her heart stopped. She wasn't dancing anymore. As the strange guy moved closer to the girl, he lit up. Streaks glowed across his face, vanishing with each pulse of light. Lines, dots, and stripes of the most brilliant cyan flared, a color that wasn't exactly common in UV makeup. He didn't seem to notice, though, as he grabbed the girl's bare shoulders gently and leaned forward to whisper in her ear.
But the flash of yellow and red at his wrist was hard to miss. The blonde jerked away from him, slapping her palm over her upper arm - exactly where the guy's hand had been. He just stepped back, looking pleased with himself, his other hand reaching into his pocket as the girl left.
She remembered the poke from the cuff of his hoodie. He'd taken her hand and she'd been jabbed by something sharp, just like that girl. This time, though, she'd seen the cause of the pain. It was like a stinger or some kind of strange probe attached to his arm. Closer to the wrist, really. And as the light continued to flash, she stared, realizing that her coffee-shop hunk was looking right at her.
Each time the light turned white, he appeared perfectly normal, but in the spaces between, his eyes glowed at her eerily, a solid block of color like demons in the movies, but so much nicer to look at. They stood like that, eyes locked, then he smiled. The UV lines went across his lips and inside his mouth, like no makeup she'd ever seen before.