Chapter 2
My name is Koty Majors. I’m retired now, but I used to work in classified projects. About that, I can’t say much, but what I can say is that I’m a little conflicted about Neve Wells recently contacting me. I thought I had prevented that from ever happening. Yes, I was familiar with that name. How could I forget? I once tried to protect her. I guess I failed.
When I received an email from her, my heart ached. After years of watching her at a distance, I felt like I knew her. With long dark hair and a sweet face, she kind of encroached onto my hardened heart. I guess she found a way to keep my feelings alive, even after so much darkness.
What I did to save her cost me a promotion and a pay cut, but I’d do it again if I had to. My humanity got the best of me. After that fiasco, I need to tread carefully. I can’t cross another line for her no matter how I feel about her. There is only so much I can do. I hope she understands that.
Koty stared at the emails, feeling as if a shadow stretched over him with an ominous warning. He probably should heed it. After all, best laid plans had failed. You see, he knew quite a lot about Neve Wells, and carefully buried her file a long time ago, hoping to keep her safe. But somehow, she unknowingly sought to ruin all that he had done for her. Of course, he hoped she’d never recover all of those memories. That might prove damaging.
What she doesn’t know….In her mind, she thinks a storm is what caused her phobia, but he knew differently. It was a substitute memory that was implanted in her mind after the painful encounter where she had witnessed her mother being abducted. Agents rarely intervened. An agreement had been made as well as a set quota. It is just the way things were and not much could be done about it. The Grays were only supposed to take those whose coordinates they gave ahead of time. Much to his dismay, they didn’t always follow the rules. And they also didn’t always realize the damage that they caused or they didn’t care, when it came to their mission.
When Helen had been taken by the Grays during a particularly terrifying encounter, Koty and another agent named Bob Hardin were on the premises. Usually, they made sure that there were no witnesses or they were there to clean up any mess. Most of the time, they merely documented what occurred, but this time was different. In their haste, the Grays left behind a traumatized teenager while doing tests on her mother. She wasn’t immobilized or rendered unconscious as the norm, because for some reason it didn’t work on her. That usually meant that she would be taken for research to find out why. But that would be for another day.
Koty tried to comfort her, but the girl was hysterical. Nothing Koty said could quell her intense fear and anguish, so he took out a syringe and knocked her out while questioning what else to do about the situation. He laid her on the couch, staring down at her innocent face. This didn’t sit well with him. While many folks sat around the TV or stared at their phones, this young woman almost broke, like so many before her.
The other man, with harsh lines on his face from his own private anguish, suggested that they hypnotize her and implant a substitute memory about her mother getting caught in a storm. That was what the bright lights could have been. It seemed logical enough. Besides, who would suspect an alien abduction? This alternative story seemed plausible, so the official story was about a tornado arising out of turbulent weather. After almost getting dragged away by the force of it, they could suggest that Helen crawled back amid the debris to the cowering Neve and consoled her. No memories of supposed aliens or military men remained in her mind, or so he thought. This was the accepted version. Period. And whenever Neve told the story, nobody seemed to think about Googling to see if there really were tornadoes or other bad weather during that time period. They just simply wanted to support her as she told the harrowing details.
Now many years later and more worn down, Koty did lectures on the UFO circuit, where he stuck to stories that were to be promoted while doing damage control where needed. He knew whose claims were real and which ones were either fantasy or delusion. In Neve’s case, he knew the facts, but was determined to keep her from getting too far into what really happened. It was for her own safety as well as sanity. But would she understand his reasoning?
Rising from the desk in his conservative house near Bennington, Vermont, Koty went out to his back porch where the horizon was fairly flat and full of stars that almost seemed to touch the ground in the valley up ahead. Even the fireflies lit up like mini flashes of light. He liked it out here. His yard was large and had enough room for a mutt named Jet to run around in, and a grill for summer barbecues, where he pretended to be a normal guy. His neighbors didn’t really know him unless they were into UFOs, and few around here were.
With a sigh, he rubbed his temples. He had hoped he’d never see that name again. The forlorn face of that sweet and fragile child haunted him to this day. What he did, he did out of care and concern. Maybe that caused an unfortunate link to develop between them, and perhaps he had to pay for his intervention. It was the first time, but not the last time that he had interfered.
Another time, he stepped in yet again. This time, THEY had come for her. She was 19, and working at a grocery store. Her whole future was before her and she had a chance for a normal life. But while at work at a nearby secret base, he saw the coordinates come up on his console, along with a different reference number than Helen Wells. That could only mean one thing. No, he wasn’t going to let this happen! Not to her. Yes, he witnessed many occurrences, but somehow it seemed wrong in her case, so he went to her home and waited. They both had lived near Albany at the time. Her mother rented an apartment above a dry cleaners. Now, Neve bought a house when she was old enough to collect her inheritance at 21 from her father, and Koty owned a home about twenty minutes away from her, in Bennington. But that night, he rushed to the Albany address, picked the lock and stood by her bed under the midnight moon, unable to step across the veil of her reality, yet wanting to. For her, he’d remain a shadow that would never materialize. If she woke up, he’d have to put her back to sleep.
Her mother was out on a date with a construction worker that she met online, so Neve was alone. Usually, Helen fell for men with a violent streak and soon would part ways. It didn’t set a good example for the daughter, who only seemed to date casually, but never trusted anyone for long term commitments. He hoped that would change. After all, she needed someone else to look after her when he was gone.
Wearing pajamas, she looked so peaceful. The color probably brought out the hue of her eyes, which he knew too well. They were ingrained in his memories after she had once pleaded with him, seeking his help. He didn’t want to let her down or break her heart this time either. He touched her pretty face, framed by long dark hair. Against his better judgment, he made the choice to hide her.
This is what he put in his report, when the truth caught up to him:
Years ago, I got a tip that an abduction was going to take place at certain coordinates. When I arrived ahead of time to document the activities, I saw a young brunette through the window, singing along with a music video. Wearing green pajamas, she appeared too small and too delicate to face what was about to happen later that night. I had encountered her once before when her mother had been taken for several hours for a medical procedure, of which is elaborated on elsewhere in her file. The terror on her face still haunts me. I didn’t think that she could handle the experience again, especially since her mother struggled with her mental health after her ordeal. Against my better judgment, I wanted to thwart what was going to happen to her. I couldn’t stand the thought of her going undergoing pain or torture at the hands of other beings.
Before the scheduled time, at my behest, my men arrived at her apartment, drugged her as before, and whisked her away by black helicopter. Once at the base, the medical personnel removed her implant by cutting inside her left nostril and pulling out a small metallic object, hoping to delay any further contact. Having already been tagged like a cow, it meant that she had been abducted before, though she had never shown up on any official registry. In generational contact, they probably already assumed that she belonged to them. With that knowledge, she was given a routine physical and returned home without incident a couple hours later. She later awoke, groggy and confused, as if trying to recount some nightmare that she couldn’t quite retrieve into her consciousness.
I later learned that the Grays ended up taking someone else that night; someone not on the list, so maybe it was to get back at my interference. They didn’t follow protocol and neither did I. A little girl ended up on a “Missing” poster. That was a painful mistake, which I learned the hard way, because the innocent person was never seen again. And no one did anything about it, because officially it never happened. To this day, I live with that guilt, but when I surveillance Neve walking near her home, I admit that what I did, I did out of concern for her. I couldn’t not have done it, though I never foresaw what my actions cost.
Koty went back inside his small two-bedroom home on a quiet rural road, where several deer frequented. Surrounded by trees and a stream, it gave the illusion of a simple life, which he sorely needed. He had a lifetime of regrets, but wanted to appreciate some beauty and gratitude where he could find it.
While sitting in front of his fireplace, he looked Neve up online on his computer to see what was new with her. After an art exhibit in New York a couple of years ago, her life had quieted down and she seemed kind of a loaner these days. She still painted and wrote a few poetry books, which only got a few decent reviews. Best of all, her smiling, pretty face carried a glowing grace that touched his heart, and yet her eyes reflected a sadness that she couldn’t quite escape, even if he knew why.
The former agent in black pants and a casual shirt pulled a beer from the fridge while muttering to himself, “What have I done?”
Maybe he wanted to help her get past whatever was holding her back. Did he owe her anything else? He already paid a price for helping her before. Once proud of that, he wondered if he should have left her to her fate. She wasn’t his concern until he had stepped in. Was he just expected to walk away forever as if nothing had happened? He tried to sever that tie, but he couldn’t. Something about her had etched its way into his mind and maybe even into his heart. Things could get messy if he didn’t keep his head on straight.