Alien Barbarians' Hope Read online

  Alien Barbarians’ Hope

  Zara Starr

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Also by Zara Starr

  Copyright © 2019 by Zara Starr

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations in book reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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  One

  Ella

  I had truly worked my ass off to reach the position I was in today, but after my boss, Carlisle, had ridiculed me the last time we had a company meeting, I wasn’t so sure the job was worth it anymore.

  It was hard enough just trying to keep the migraines at bay. After consulting with my dietician, I’d been forced to come to the unsavory conclusion that I needed to change my diet—much to my dismay.

  Sure, being vegetarian had its benefits but now that I’d been faced with the possibility of having to get rid of protein from meat, I didn’t see any other alternative but to go full vegan. I was petite in stature with a very lean figure. On the surface, I appeared to be the epitome of perfect health, yet the stomach pains and migraines I regularly experienced seemed to indicate differently.

  I sighed in agitation and lifted my reading glasses as I peered over the work orders on my computer screen. On the surface, I did my best to excel as the perfect employee. But lately, my health along with my life seemed to be falling apart at the seams and I didn’t really know why.

  My therapist and my dietician were still trying to figure out the source of my problems and it had begun to take a heavy toll on me. I scanned the media kit before me and determined that this new client would be pretty easy to please.

  Being the social media director for Hubert and Gonzales did have its benefits, but I wasn’t sure how much longer I could put up with the workplace harassment often afforded me from the big boss.

  “Ella! Ella, get in here!” Carlisle’s voice echoed through my small cubicle and I closed my eyes tightly, gritting my teeth.

  Here we go again!

  Arising slowly, I smoothed out my skirt and pushed the swivel chair back against my desk. I forced a smile and began walking toward Carlisle’s office.

  “Yes, Mr. Hubert?” I asked, “What can I assist you with this morning?” I finished with a cheery voice. Carlisle lifted a brow.

  “Why the hell were you late again? That makes the third time this week and it’s only Wednesday!” he roared at me.

  I averted my eyes quickly and sucked in a deep breath.

  “I apologize, Mr. Hubert. These storms have been messing with the power at my house and my alarm broke. I was only late on Monday because of a medical appointment, though.” I held my breath as I awaited his response.

  “That is only one excusable tardy, Ms. St. Louis! You cannot use these storms as a viable excuse when the rest of us all show up on time! The only reason you haven’t been fired yet is because you are the only one who knows how to handle the Coreen and Foster accounts!”

  Carlisle’s voice was now steadily bellowing at me as I stood with my hands folded together before my lap.

  “Mr. Hubert, I was the person who secured the Coreen and Foster accounts,” I said firmly as I lifted her eyes to meet with his. In fact, if your stupid ass hadn’t closed your mouth, the CEO would have never agreed to let us represent them.

  The marketing contract for Coreen and Foster had been hard to land—mostly because Elizabeth Coreen and her life partner, Amanda Foster, were strict feminists who had no patience for men like Carlisle Hubert. That was the one thing that was to my advantage though.

  “Is that your sole defense, Ms. St. Louis?” Carlisle hollered at me.

  I stiffened suddenly—feeling an overwhelming urge to scream in his face, just as he had screamed at me over the course of the last five years.

  “You know what, Carlisle—screw this! I’ve been offered countless opportunities to work directly for Coreen and Foster, and I’ve had it with your hostile work environment and your abusive, narcissistic, egotistical, misogynistic bullshit!”

  Without a flinch, I whirled about-face and began storming back to my desk. I can’t believe this asshole!

  Tabatha Turret glanced at me as I walked by, her mouth falling agape as I began ripping my belongings out of the cubicle and forcibly packing them into my handbag.

  “Fuck Hubert and Gonzales Marketing! And fuck all of you ass-kissing brownnosers too!” I added as I made a beeline for the elevator.

  There was only so much one person could take and I had finally reached my rock bottom—something my therapist had reminded me would happen soon if I didn’t make some much-needed adjustments.

  Fine, adjustments made! Time to go!

  I jogged out of the Menser Building where Hubert and Gonzales Marketing was located, maneuvering quickly to my two-door coupe, the same car I had started community college in prior to gaining my bachelor’s degree in communications.

  I had taken the job right out of college and it seemed to be a good break, but that was before I learned what an abusive tool Carlisle Hubert actually was.

  The car had done its job well, but lately, it seemed like it too was growing tired of the usual commute I took daily for my job. I walked over to the door and attempted to lift the handle—which instantly came off in my hand.

  “Son of a bitch!” I scoffed in annoyance, walking to the opposite side of the car. This time the door opened without a hitch.

  “Well, at least this one still works!” I muttered, crawling into the car—over the center console and finally into the driver’s seat. I pushed the key into the ignition and turned it.

  Sputter!

  I groaned aloud, lowering my head down to rest on the steering wheel as I gripped its edges. “Fuck my life! Damn it!” I hollered as hot tears began to slip down my cheeks.

  This is just my luck! Just my freaking luck!

  Picking my head up, I wiped beneath my eyes and glanced in the rearview mirror.

  Dark and ominous grey clouds had already begun to fill the sky above me. The few skyscrapers that blocked my view almost seemed dwarfed by comparison due to the size of the storm wall. I had never seen such black clouds before.

  The eerie clouds almost resembled plumes of inky smoke as they rose up and over the buildings—engulfing them as if they were reaching claws trying to clasp the buildings and consume them whole.

  It sent a petrifying chill straight through my body and suddenly the sound of raindrops splattering across the windows filtered into my ears.

  “Great,” I murmured, shaking my head at the realization that walking in the nasty storm seemed to be my only option.

  Maybe a cab? I thought hopefully, lowering my seat as I struggled to crawl back over to the passenger side and exit the useless heap of metal I had once called a car.
/>
  Creak!

  The sound of the car door opening was the only thing I could hear as I stepped out. The rain immediately began pelting against me and I frowned in displeasure.

  “This is ridiculous.” I lifted my hand and began waving at a Yellow Cab that was coming toward me. The cabbie approached the side of the curb and lowered his window.

  “Where ya headed?” he asked.

  “Thirteenth and Monroe,” I said as I leaned down to look at him and brought my hand up to block my face from the light rain. “How much will that cost?”

  “Forty-two ninety-nine,” the Cabbie murmured.

  My eyes widened. “Are you kidding me? That’s insane! That car doesn’t even need that much to run all day. How much do you think you deserve to be paid just for driving someone from point A to point B? Jeeze!”

  The cabbie stared at me blankly.

  “I take it you’re not interested in the ride then?” he asked.

  I scoffed. “Nah, I can’t afford it. It’s only fifteen miles.”

  “Suit yourself. Enjoy the rain!” the cabbie said as he pulled back onto the street.

  I sighed—my eyes whisking over to the bus stop that sat outside of the Menser Building. At least I would get some shelter. I approached it just as an elderly woman stepped out from beneath the awning.

  “No more buses today, miss,” the woman notified me before I could formulate my question. I tilted my head and perked a brow.

  “What do you mean? There should be at least two more on the schedule for today.”

  The woman pointed a finger to the storm clouds that now seemed to be hovering right above us. The rain was just a light drizzle but I could tell that there would be a downpour soon.

  “No, ma’am. Not since those started pouring down. The Weatherly District is already starting to flood. The weatherman said that it doesn’t look like it will relent anytime soon.”

  “The Weatherly District is flooding? Isn’t that where the bus depot is?”

  The old woman nodded. “Yep, I’m waiting for my son-in-law and daughter to pick me up. I’m just hoping this storm doesn’t mess them up too.”

  I pursed my lips and sighed. “I wish I could help but my car is broken down and I’m fifteen miles away from my own place.”

  The elderly woman sighed. “Well, I hope you find some help then, dear,” she murmured after a few seconds.

  I nodded and turned to walk further down the road. As I began to walk away, the elderly woman called out to me and I turned to look at her.

  “Do you know Jehovah, dear? Learn about him—as we are facing the last days!”

  I perked a brow but refrained from responding, hurrying my pace as I moved further away, my shoes getting more and more wet with every step.

  What was with everyone thinking it was the end of the world?

  The news had been in an uproar over the strange appearance of the storm clouds that seemed to cover a good portion of the globe. Particularly, the Western Hemisphere—which made Los Angeles the perfect place for it to start.

  All the religious leaders of the world had been talking about the signs in the heavens and skies, and here I was walking in the rain in the heart of the Lost Angels’ city, feeling like anything but an angel.

  My parents would have probably said the same thing, I realized.

  Having grown up in a French-Canadian Catholic family, I knew my parents would have been ringing my phone off the hook—if they had still been alive, that was.

  The loss of Dwayne, Melinda, and James St. Louis had been one of the biggest shocks of my life. It was that loss that finally prompted me to move as far away from the East Coast as I possibly could.

  As I began to walk further down the sidewalk, the memory of my last conversation with my mother suddenly shifted into my mind, my heart growing heavy with grief as I thought more about it.

  “I just don’t understand why, Ella. It’s the worst place in the world to live in. The cost of living is outrageous and it catches on fire every year!” Mom said with an urgency that shocked me—a lot more than I had expected.

  Sure, I knew mom didn’t want me to be far away from her, but I never expected her to be so stubbornly against my dreams.

  “It’s not that bad in the town, mom. I promise,” I said.

  “But why California, Ella? Why L.A.?” Mom’s pleading voice asked.

  I pursed my lips. “Because I want to go somewhere different. I like the idea of roaming the coastlines without them all becoming boardwalk beaches like Atlantic City.”

  “It’s the Devil’s Delight though, Ella. It goes against everything I have ever taught you,” Mom said solemnly.

  “If this is another political debate you’ve been waiting to open, I don’t want to hear it, mom,” I replied.

  “It is not political! It’s about the state of your eternal soul. I don’t want you dying and going to hell, Ella. Is that too much for you to understand?” my mother inquired.

  “Mom, you can’t keep expecting me to follow some strict Catholic doctrine for the rest of my life—the devil is everywhere, not just Los Angeles.”

  “There will be terrible pestilence—terrible suffering in the last days. Do you know that, Ella? Have you read the Book of Revelation?” my mother asked.

  I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “Here we go again. Mom, look I have had all my sacraments—I’ve been baptized and I know how to say my Hail Mary’s. Stop worrying so much. I am a grown woman now,” I muttered.

  “That may be true, but you must remember that idle hands are the devil’s playground, Ella. You must be sure that you will be busy and steadfast—always. Please, why can’t you work for one of the companies closer to home?” Mom asked.

  I scoffed. “Mom, I have to go somewhere to find myself. It isn’t here.”

  Mom sighed and I could feel her frustration. “You will be so very far away if anything happens. How will I help you from so far away?” she asked.

  It was the same manipulation tactic she had used on me to keep me from going to college out of state, and now, even as I approached my college graduation my mother was trying to use it to her advantage, again.

  “Nothing is going to happen, mom.”

  “What if there is a terrible earthquake and California falls into the sea like they have been saying for years?”

  I rolled my eyes—again. “You’re being overdramatic, mom. Los Angeles isn’t going to fall into the Pacific any more than New York is going to break off into the Atlantic. Stop being such a fearmonger.”

  “You know, that is the problem with you kids these days—you think everything is a joke or that everyone is being too concerned. Well, tell me what are you going to do the day you have no car, no food, and no family to help you? What will you do then, Ella?”

  “I bet the first thing that comes out of your mouth will be, Oh, God, help me! You just mark my words on that,” Mom seethed, her anger uncontainable from the provocation of my smartass mouth.

  “I’m not going to get into this with you, mom. I’m just not doing it. This is a great job opportunity and I will graduate in a week. I’m going for it, period,” I said in finality.

  Mom narrowed her eyes and shook her head. “Fine, you just suit yourself. You will learn how wrong you are—just watch!” she hollered.

  I began rubbing my temples, lowering my head slightly as my head began to pound.

  “Are you serious? Do you know how bad arguing like this hurts my head? Why do you yell at me constantly, mom? Is that what you think your precious God and Virgin Mary and Jesus want you to do to your children?” I asked.

  “Don’t you dare try to tell me how to behave toward my children or use my religion as an excuse for your vile disrespect! You should go to the City of the Lost—it seems like you belong there!” Melinda spat out.

  “Whatever you say, mom. I’ve got to get out of here,” I said, turning my back on my mother for what would be the very last time.

  I blinked back my tears as my memo
ries shifted and I came back to the present. I had been a total jerk to her and I knew it. And now, it seemed that my mom had been right, but not on every aspect.

  Here I was in the City of the Lost, feeling totally and utterly lost. And, to make matters worse, it had been a dreary, awful rainy day, just like the one I was walking through, that had ultimately taken my mother, father and younger brother away from me in a car crash.

  But, working in the Menser Building for five years, I had made a few connections and had at least one or two friends I was sure I could call on. The problem was, most of them were likely still at work.

  I began rifling through my purse and extracted my iPhone, my fingers quickly swiping across the screen as I scanned through my contacts. Emily Scheffler’s name popped up on the screen and I hit the green phone button, bringing the speaker up to my ear.

  Ring. Ring. Ring.

  Three rings and Emily’s voicemail echoed in my ears.

  Hey, it’s Em—I’m not available, more than likely because I am at my desk at the moment. Leave a message with all the details and I’ll gladly get back to you!

  “Crap!” I spun around and glanced back at the parking lot where my car sat and suddenly—

  Crack!

  My eyes grew heavy, my head suddenly beginning to pound as I lost consciousness, the last thought in my mind being, did I die?

  My eyes flew open, my arms waving in the air as the brisk sensation of cold water rushed over me. Gasping, I realized that water surrounded me on all sides and I fought to burst through the surface, gasping as my eyes frantically spread out around me.

  “Help! Help! Is there anyone?” The iciness of the water seemed to snatch the air straight from my lungs as I struggled to keep my head above the water.