Maxx

An Excerpt From: Maxx

They walked along the street under the wide night sky. The stars hung like cold fire, distant and indifferent, and the wind was still. Ariel stepped to the curb, Kirsten beside her, his hands deep in his coat pockets. The street was empty, quiet. Somewhere, not far, a dog barked.

They moved to cross. Then the screech of tires. Lights from around the corner cut through the dark, wild and fast. The car came hard and quick, a drunk’s errant missile. Ariel gasped, her hand went out to pull Kirsten back, but it never reached him.

Max appeared from the sky, three points of light cutting down like a blade, the shape they called a friend. The triangular form held the car in a strange grip. The air buzzed and the car was lifted, hovering above the street in an unseen force. It wobbled and pitched, then was set down, quiet as a shadow. The drunk was out of sight. Only the night and the thing above remained.

Kirsten stared at it. His breath was slow, hands still. He raised his head, eyes tracing the sharp angles of the thing. There was awe in the moment, but fear too, crawling under the skin like some deep understanding that things had changed. Ariel took his arm.

They crossed the street. Kirsten stopped in the center, looked up at the hovering shape. His voice broke from him like something unbidden.

“If you're following us, you might as well come down here.”

The night held its breath. Then the lights shifted, the triangular shape descended, slow and deliberate, until it was no more than twenty feet above them. Ariel’s grip tightened on Kirsten’s arm. The stars within the thing shifted and moved, one sliding across the other until the entire pattern reshaped itself. A long silence stretched between them, the sky, and the thing that hung above.

Kirsten raised his head again, watching as the stars realigned. One shot out, blazing bright, then it folded itself back into the sky. The triangular form reformed and trembled, as if impatient. Ariel’s voice was small, edged with something close to fear.

“I think it wants us to follow it.”

Kirsten didn’t answer, but his feet moved. Ariel walked beside him, the light guiding them toward something unknown.

The stars led them to a place marked ST Aerospace Engineering. The building stood squat and silent, a looming presence in the dark. Kirsten walked to the booth at the gate, knocked hard. The sound echoed, hollow.

A security guard emerged, large and impassive. Kirsten squared his shoulders, anger replacing the unease. His voice was loud, too loud in the quiet night.

“Tell me what’s going on. These aircraft, these things following us—what are they?”

The guard didn’t answer. His hand slid into his coat, pulled out a small device. The red beam flickered and hit Kirsten’s eyes. He jerked back, a curse on his lips. His hands went up as if to strike, but he stopped.

The guard stepped back, eyes wide, muttering into his radio. Then the golf carts came. Security swarmed, faceless in the dark.

“You need to leave.”

Kirsten planted his feet, voice flat and cold.

“No. Call the cops. Call the army. Call whoever you need. I’m not leaving until I get answers. What is this? Why did you flash that light in my eyes?”

Ariel stood behind him, her hand on his shoulder. The stars hung above, distant but watching. And the night closed in around them, waiting for whatever came next.