Read Online Alien Hunter: Underworld by Whitley Strieber - Free Book Online Page B

handles in her marble shower stall and let the water flow until it was steaming. Then he stepped in. He left the door open and faced outward into the bathroom as he methodically washed himself.
    The hot water felt good on his skin, except where it burned in his latest wounds. He stepped out of the stall, opened the medicine cabinet, and rummaged until he found some disinfectant. Then he pulled the ugliest cut apart by drawing his shoulder forward, and poured the disinfectant in. There was pain. A lot, in fact.
    As he dried himself, he realized that his clothes were too gross to wear. The room stank like some kind of bovine had rolled in it. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he went to the exquisitely carved dresser. He opened the bottom drawer, which was where his things were kept. He often showered and changed here—slept here, too. From here, he could move on cases a lot faster than he could from home.
    But what the hell was this shirt? It wasn’t one of his.
    â€œHey,” he called, “what is this thing, a bolero shirt?”
    No answer from the office. That’s right, her meeting was out there. And, as a matter of fact, he was hearing his name mentioned, was he not? He strolled over to the door. Yep, they were talking about him.
    He went out waving the shirt. “I can’t wear this.”
    â€œPut some clothes on.”
    â€œI can’t wear a blouse.”
    â€œThat’s an ordinary man’s shirt. Unlike your tees, it happens to have a collar. Something you apparently haven’t worn in some time. Now, get dressed.”
    â€œSorry, kids,” he said to the staring young faces, “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He started to put on the shirt.
    â€œFlynn, get out!”
    â€œYou said get dressed, boss.” He sat on the edge of her desk. “So, what’s the latest findings? Aeon turn out to be big on comedy clubs? Marijuana dispensaries? Too bad they don’t have decent cops.”
    â€œFlynn, Aeon knows you’re the fastest gun in the West and the toughest hombre in town—and they’re not impressed, as I’ve told you. They also know that you’re richer than God, and therefore a dilettante. And they have been speculating about whether or not you’re crazy.” She folded her arms. “I think that question is answered.”
    He turned around so they could see the gash that extended from his neck to the center of his back. “I could use a Band-Aid.”
    â€œMy God, Flynn, you don’t need a bandage, you need medical attention.”
    â€œWe’re off to Bullshit Central, remember. Fifteen minutes.”
    â€œI’ll have medics on the plane. Now, get out of here.”
    He drew on the shirt. Nicely tailored, too. She’d spared no expense. As he buttoned it, he said, “So when do we leave?”
    â€œWhen I say. Now, go away. You’re not need-to-know on this conference.”
    â€œ333676. Track down that blocked number.”
    He went back into the bedroom, threw himself on the bed, and waited.
    The sheets were scented. They smelled like her.
    â€œFlynn!”
    It was Abby, calling to him from her porch across the street. The summer wind whispered in the trees; the sweet smell of the Texas prairie filled the air.
    â€œFlynn!”
    The movie ended. Blank screen. Then he realized that it wasn’t a movie. He opened his eyes.
    â€œChrist, I was about to call for a blowtorch. I thought you were in a coma.”
    He bolted upright. “Sorry, I didn’t realize—”
    She sat down on the bed and pulled the shirt away from his back. “That needs ten stitches at least.”
    â€œIt’ll heal.”
    â€œWe have to go now, so get your ass moving, please.” Her voice was harsh, but not her eyes.
    He reached out and touched her cheek. She did not turn away, and he knew that he could kiss her if he wanted to. Neither of them moved. In the silence that they