Chapter Four
Steve's rank within the Air Force and his status at NASA meant he was aware that the existence of aliens was not a mere possibility; it was a quietly acknowledged certainty. Alien abductions, however, were considered to be the products of attention-seekers with over-active imaginations. Not a single case, of the hundreds that had been reported, was ever verifiable. This meant Steve, Oscar and the army of searchers were all left with the same gnawing, agonizing question:
Where is Jaime?
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Steve returned to the search area just after 12:30pm, as soon as the Geiger counters were gone. He'd already personally searched the barn – twice – and been through all four houses, but he headed back into the barn for a third look, based on Hansen's assertion that the experiments had been centered there. He moved to various spots throughout the ramshackle old building, remembering how, the previous day, he'd been able to sense Jaime's having been there. Today, he didn't feel that – didn't feel her – at all. Despondent, he jumped up into the empty hayloft that stretched across the far end of the barn and sat down to think.
What if Max was wrong? Steve thought in horror. What if he saw Jaime come into the barn, but she left through the other door? What if she never came into the barn at all, but told Max to stay at that door, before she ran off somewhere else? What if she had stumbled upon Hansen's men, doing something they shouldn't have been doing? What if...what if...what if...? Steve closed his eyes, trying to somehow connect with Jaime, but he felt nothing except a cold, empty ache, deep in his heart.
Steve looked around the tiny hayloft and up into the rafters. Like the searchers who'd stormed the building right after he'd escaped it, he saw no trace of the metal hook he'd barely managed to dodge or of the chain it had swung from. He'd not only seen the hook, he'd felt it whizzing through his hair as he dove out of the way; he'd physically felt it. So where was it? And why...?
Steve's datacom blared suddenly to life, shattering the silence and rousing him from his inner reverie. "What?" he answered distractedly.
"Steve?" It was Oscar. "Where are you, Pal?"
"In the barn, up in the hayloft."
"Oh? Good. Rudy and I are right outside, with Max. We'd like you to take him into the barn."
"Don't know if that's such a good idea; he froze outside yesterday, 'cause he was so scared. But I'll try anything. I'll be right out." He jumped down from the loft, landing close to the back door and directly beside... "Jaime?"
Steve knew he'd closed the door when he'd come in, and he was sure it hadn't opened but, not one to argue with good fortune, he threw his arms joyfully around her, holding her tightly, afraid she might otherwise disappear again.
"Are you alright? Where were you?...Jaime?" Silence. Still holding her, Steve took a slight step backward to look at her more carefully. Jaime stood completely still, ramrod-straight, her face very pale and her eyes non-responsive and unblinking.
The datacom crackled again with Oscar's voice. "Steve? Are you alright?"
"What? Uh...yeah, I'm...fine. Oscar, Jaime's here. I've got her." He scooped her up into his arms since she seemed completely unaware of her surroundings or of his presence next to her. "I'm bringing her out now."
An extremely stunned Steve carried Jaime out through the doors Oscar and Rudy threw open for him. Max saw her and immediately perked up, his tail thumping wildly as he did a doggy version of a happy dance. Oscar and Rudy were both grinning broadly, until they saw Steve's dark, worried eyes. "I'll call the Medivac," he told Rudy. "Something's wrong."
Oscar got on his datacom, so Rudy could begin to tend to his stricken patient. Steve very gently eased Jaime down onto a soft patch of grass. She stared vacantly into space, not having uttered a single sound. Steve sat down next to her, enfolding her tenderly in his arms as Rudy knelt beside them.
"Jaime...Sweetheart, please talk to us," Steve begged quietly.
Rudy frowned at Jaime's total lack of recognition. He touched his hand to her forehead and her cheek before taking her left wrist to check her pulse. He looked up at Steve. "She's in shock," the doctor said. "How long on the Medivac?" he asked Oscar.
"Five minutes."
Rudy leaned closer to Jaime. "Honey, can I see your arm, please?" She didn't respond. The doctor looked to Steve, who gently extended Jaime's left arm. She didn't resist in any way; she didn't even appear to notice. "No injection marks," Rudy told Steve, after checking Jaime's arm thoroughly. "I won't really know for sure until I can examine her at the hospital, but she doesn't have any visible injuries." He snapped his fingers directly in front of Jaime's eyes, but she still didn't blink. Worry furrowed the doctor's brow as he looked at Steve and gravely shook his head. "Oscar, hand me my bag, please?" he asked. "Thank you."
Rudy sorted through the medical bag and removed a syringe and a vial. When he was ready, he glanced again at Steve, who understood and squeezed Jaime's upper arm just enough for the doctor to find a vein. In under two minutes, just as the chopper could be heard in the distance, Rudy eased Jaime's head down gently onto Steve's shoulder as her eyelids fluttered and closed. Steve pulled her limp body closer, letting her rest against his chest, wishing he could understand – even a little bit – what the hell had just happened.
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