11:17pm. An eerie full moon hangs above the semi arid landscape of Roswell, New Mexico. A thin veil of clouds blanket the stars in the night sky and a gentle breeze stirs dust into the air. With hardly any traffic on the streets, the city feels more like a ghost town than some cheap novelty tourist attraction in a brochure.
Headlights from Ethan's Explorer slice though the darkness. Dogs in a quiet subdivision start barking when he turns into an empty driveway. A porch light comes on at the house next door, then one across the street.
After shutting off the engine, he sits there for a few minutes reminiscing the times he brought a woman to his house. Eventually, he gets out of the vehicle and shuts the door. Seconds later, Amber opens the passenger door and gets out as well.
"Where are we," she asks.
"We're at my place," he says, heading up the walkway.
"It's nice, but you said Brett would look for me here."
"We're not going to be here long," he says.
When Ethan unlocks the door, she follows him inside the house.
"Leave the door open in case someone pulls up," he says.
"What if someone does?"
"Let's hope that doesn't happen," he says, turning on a lamp.
"It sounds like you've had enough excitement for one night."
"You could say that," he says, walking up the stairs. "Make yourself at home."
Once Ethan disappears, Amber wanders into the living room. It's cozy, furnished with plush leather furniture and artificial plants similar to his office. As she strolls through the room, a small collection of plastic figurines sitting on the fireplace mantel catches her curious eyes. She stops and picks one up for a closer look.
"I thought you said that you didn't believe in aliens," she hollers over her shoulder.
"Those are novelty items. You'll see all sorts of weird stuff around Roswell."
She sits the figurine back and wanders around looking at all the pictures hanging on the walls until one perks her interest.
"Who's the woman with blonde hair in this picture with you," she asks, studying it.
"That's my ex wife."
"Are these your kids?"
"The oldest is my stepdaughter."
"She favors her mother."
"The two boys are mine," he adds.
"So where are they now," she inquires.
"It's a long story."
Before long, her curiosity leads her to the patio door. She slides it open and sticks her head outside. A gentle gust of wind whips her long purple hair as she sweeps her eyes across the backyard. Soon, her eyes settle upon the pool water shimmering in the pale moonlight. Her thoughts, wandering inside her head. Before she steps onto the patio, a hand touches her on the shoulder, triggering a reaction.
"There you are," Ethan says.
"You scared the fuck out of me," she gasps.
"Sorry about that, but we need to go."
"You're not telling me a whole lot," she says, closing the patio door.
"We're gonna head South," he says, heading to the front door.
"What's in the suitcases?"
"I don't think I'll be coming back here, at least not for awhile."
"Am I causing you problems, Ethan?"
"Pfft... I'm doing a good job of that myself," he quips.
When Amber exits the house, Ethan turns off the lamp, locks the front door and pulls it shut behind him. Under a cover of darkness, they make their way down the steps to the vehicle. Strangely, something doesn't feel right. While he puts the suitcases in the back, she sweeps her eyes through the yard looking for anything suspicious or out of the ordinary.
"So why are we heading South," she asks.
"It'll make it harder for Brett to - ," he says, closing the glass hatch.
"Something's not right," she interrupts, gazing at the shrubbery.
"It's probably nothing."
"Well, it feels like something to me."
"You're just jumpy," he says, opening the driver door.
"It's not that."
"Then it's probably just a rabbit. They're pretty common around here."
"I doubt it," she says, getting into the vehicle.
Minutes later, Ethan starts the engine. Then, he backs out the driveway. Once they're out of sight, a small surveillance drone rises from the bushes and follows them into the city.
"What're you thinking about," he asks, turning off the radio.
"Nothing, what's up with the street lights," she inquires, staring out the window.
"What about them?"
"They look like they have - I don't know - eyes, I guess."
"They do. Roswell is the alien capital of the world," he says.
"That explains why I was brought here."
"From where," he questions.
"I won't know until I check my jump history."
"That sounds like it's above my college degrees."
"Probably, I'm too tired to check it now."
"I imagine so with all the running you did, no pun intended."
"Yeah," she says, yawning.
Fighting sleep, Amber slides the car seat back. Then, she leans her head against the window and stares at the buildings as they pass. After awhile, her silence arouses Ethan's curiosity.
"So where's your spaceship," he inquires.
"You still find it hard to believe I'm an alien."
"A little bit. Would you like a cigarette?"
"I don't smoke, Ethan."
"I shouldn't do it either, but I'm under a lot of stress," he says, lighting one.
"I don't see how."
"Let's just say that helping you escape from a government facility has consequences."
"I could've escaped from there on my own."
"Maybe, maybe not."
"It's not worth arguing."
