MEG: Nightstalkers by Steve Alten Read Free Book Online
Authors: Steve Alten
camera.”
Monty snatched the pen and contract from Dr. Al Hashemi and flipped to the last page, scribbling his signature. “I was born to play this role. Did you know the new Rolls-Royce Phantom takes two months to build and comes in a choice of forty-four thousand colors?”
“Monty, don’t you want to at least read the contract?”
“Why? Where else am I gonna earn forty-four thousand dollars for being myself?”
“It’s three thousand an episode and … never mind.” David glanced at the four-page document. “Can I read it on the plane?”
“Read it on the way to the airport, we begin filming on the plane. You’ll be flying over with your co-stars—ten of the most stunning actresses and models in all of Arabia. These women are competing to become the three finalists that you, David Taylor, will select to join you aboard the Tonga . Be fair warned—our contestants will do their best to influence your vote. I do envy you, my young friend.”
Monty punched David on the shoulder. “Women and a free Rolls-Royce … sign the contract, stupid!”
If it gets me aboard the Tonga …
Ignoring his father’s voice in his head, David signed the last page of the contract, then handed it back to the aquarium director and climbed inside the back of the limousine.
* * *
Monty propped his hiking boots up on the opposite seat, stretching out. “Dude, what’s with the sour face? Ten hot women, fighting to get inside your pants. Every guy watching the show will be wishing he was you … except for maybe the gay guys. Oh yeah, and when you’re being chased in your sub by some giant fish trying to eat you … Know what? Forget about what I said, no one will want to be you.”
“You don’t get it, Monty. The Prince is manipulating me; he thinks he can cure my depression by dangling a bunch of beautiful women in front of me. It’s not about sex. I hurt because I loved Kaylie. I wanted to marry her! My heart aches whenever I think about her. You just don’t shut that down. You can understand that, can’t you?”
Monty glanced at the thick sweatbands covering the freshly scarred wounds on the inside of his friend’s wrists. “Yeah, man, I feel you. Kaylie was a thunderbolt, a girl so incredibly beautiful the closest you probably figured you’d get to being with her was inside your own head. And she really liked you. When you piloted her sub during the last day of competition … capturing a sea turtle on the hood of your Manta when your net malfunctioned—dude, you were her hero. Hearing you cry at night … I hurt for you. But David, you gotta move on, you gotta let her go. Look at me. When I left for Iraq I had a steady girl and a good job. Two tours of duty later my brains were scrambled, my boss lets me go, and the woman I loved was with another guy. You think there weren’t nights when I didn’t seriously think about swallowing the barrel of my gun?”
“What stopped you?”
“Two things. The first was God. I was raised to believe the man upstairs has His own game plan for each one of us and He isn’t a big fan of suicide.”
“And the second reason?”
“What second reason?”
“The second reason you didn’t try to kill yourself.”
“I didn’t try to kill myself; an I.E.D. did this to me.”
“Not the explosive … never mind.” David watched as Monty grabbed a bottle of scotch from the limo’s bar and crammed it into his duffle bag. “Really, dude?”
“Hey, it’s not for me. That’s for you, in case you want to sleep on the plane. The last thing we need is for you to go off into la-la land and wake up screaming from one of your night terrors.”
“The new meds my shrink gave me seem to be working. Besides, I’m not tired.”
“And what if you end up in the Prince’s bedroom suite? Trust me, after you get lost between the sheets with three or four of those Arabian beauties you’ll be nodding off like a newborn. Of course, if you can’t handle it you can
Monty snatched the pen and contract from Dr. Al Hashemi and flipped to the last page, scribbling his signature. “I was born to play this role. Did you know the new Rolls-Royce Phantom takes two months to build and comes in a choice of forty-four thousand colors?”
“Monty, don’t you want to at least read the contract?”
“Why? Where else am I gonna earn forty-four thousand dollars for being myself?”
“It’s three thousand an episode and … never mind.” David glanced at the four-page document. “Can I read it on the plane?”
“Read it on the way to the airport, we begin filming on the plane. You’ll be flying over with your co-stars—ten of the most stunning actresses and models in all of Arabia. These women are competing to become the three finalists that you, David Taylor, will select to join you aboard the Tonga . Be fair warned—our contestants will do their best to influence your vote. I do envy you, my young friend.”
Monty punched David on the shoulder. “Women and a free Rolls-Royce … sign the contract, stupid!”
If it gets me aboard the Tonga …
Ignoring his father’s voice in his head, David signed the last page of the contract, then handed it back to the aquarium director and climbed inside the back of the limousine.
* * *
Monty propped his hiking boots up on the opposite seat, stretching out. “Dude, what’s with the sour face? Ten hot women, fighting to get inside your pants. Every guy watching the show will be wishing he was you … except for maybe the gay guys. Oh yeah, and when you’re being chased in your sub by some giant fish trying to eat you … Know what? Forget about what I said, no one will want to be you.”
“You don’t get it, Monty. The Prince is manipulating me; he thinks he can cure my depression by dangling a bunch of beautiful women in front of me. It’s not about sex. I hurt because I loved Kaylie. I wanted to marry her! My heart aches whenever I think about her. You just don’t shut that down. You can understand that, can’t you?”
Monty glanced at the thick sweatbands covering the freshly scarred wounds on the inside of his friend’s wrists. “Yeah, man, I feel you. Kaylie was a thunderbolt, a girl so incredibly beautiful the closest you probably figured you’d get to being with her was inside your own head. And she really liked you. When you piloted her sub during the last day of competition … capturing a sea turtle on the hood of your Manta when your net malfunctioned—dude, you were her hero. Hearing you cry at night … I hurt for you. But David, you gotta move on, you gotta let her go. Look at me. When I left for Iraq I had a steady girl and a good job. Two tours of duty later my brains were scrambled, my boss lets me go, and the woman I loved was with another guy. You think there weren’t nights when I didn’t seriously think about swallowing the barrel of my gun?”
“What stopped you?”
“Two things. The first was God. I was raised to believe the man upstairs has His own game plan for each one of us and He isn’t a big fan of suicide.”
“And the second reason?”
“What second reason?”
“The second reason you didn’t try to kill yourself.”
“I didn’t try to kill myself; an I.E.D. did this to me.”
“Not the explosive … never mind.” David watched as Monty grabbed a bottle of scotch from the limo’s bar and crammed it into his duffle bag. “Really, dude?”
“Hey, it’s not for me. That’s for you, in case you want to sleep on the plane. The last thing we need is for you to go off into la-la land and wake up screaming from one of your night terrors.”
“The new meds my shrink gave me seem to be working. Besides, I’m not tired.”
“And what if you end up in the Prince’s bedroom suite? Trust me, after you get lost between the sheets with three or four of those Arabian beauties you’ll be nodding off like a newborn. Of course, if you can’t handle it you can