Graystone National Park
“We’ve got mysterious creatures, dead Weyland Industries operatives...Demolished top secret scientific buildings…And we still have no clue as to the whereabouts of both ranger Espenza and the elusive Ms. Laura Mattley. Am I leaving anything out, Dave?”
“Nope. That’s about the size of it,” Deputy Newsome says drolly, cleaning under his thumbnail with a toothpick.
“As many questions as we answer…Two more keep rearing their ugly heads," Detective Mackey growls. "Think we’ll ever find this Mattley woman?”
“Not a chance. But, if we do…We probably won’t like the condition she’s in.”
Detective Mackey turns to Newsome with a wry smile. He crosses both arms over his chest and makes eye contact with his fellow officer.
“You think she’s dead?”
“I think it’s a possibility, Mack. Considering all of the evidence. The facts just aren’t facting in this case.”
“Yeah. That’s the impression I got too! She’s either fish food or worse. I can’t see a cold-blooded murderer leaving that truck in plain view for us to find. And she certainly didn’t put Phil’s ATV up in that damn tree. I just wish we could solve this case without looking like a couple of kooks. One thing I do know for sure…We won’t ever get the answers we’re searching for. Not if Weyland Industries is somehow involved. They’re masters of lies and cover-ups. Mark my words, I’m going to get an order to wrap up this investigation real pretty and quick. Probably, from the mayor. I hate it, Dave. I hate it.”
“You and me, both,” Deputy Newsome says, nodding in agreement.
A brief moment of silence passes between the two seasoned public servants. Detective Mackey exhales loudly and shifts his eyes over to his introspective friend and partner in political disobedience.
"You know, Dave, we could always continue our investigation...On the down low. No one in the department...Well, departments...Would have to know. Unless we swear them to absolute secrecy. We could...Have them sign a contract in blood and perform some sort of ritual. Something we can use as...Friendly blackmail. I want to know what happened in that science building. Don't you?"
Deputy Newsome sighs and peers over at his way too enthusiastic buddy. Rolling his eyes, Deputy Newsome nods in solemn agreement.
"Yeah. I guess, I do."
"That's the spirit, Dave. Now, who's buying the next round of coffee?"
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Michael Weyland gingerly walks through what looks like an exploded minefield. He surveys the damage all around him with an unhappy expression. Several marines are milling about, poking the debris with the muzzles of their weapons. They are looking for something. A tall woman with frizzy blonde hair strolls up beside the frustrated Weyland Industries chairman. He barely spares her a passing glance.
“Fifteen years of research…Gone…In a matter of moments. My uncle’s legacy…Gone.”
“It’s okay, Michael. We still have three other facilities just like this one. We can keep going. It’s not the end of the world.”
“You don’t understand, Barbara. This was the sole location for the Weyland series. There aren’t anymore. This was it.”
“Then, we can start from the beginning. I don’t see why you’re so bent out of shape about all of this. Your uncle’s DNA was damaged. As was your father’s. They were old when the project was just getting off the ground. It’s time we got some new blood. You and Bishop are still alive. We can start the series over.”
Weyland studies his head researcher—and lover—with new eyes. Maybe Barbara is onto something.
“Okay. See that it’s done. I’ll provide a new sample in the morning.”
Barbara squeezes her not-so-secret lover’s arm and offers him a wide smile.
“Consider it done.”
Barbara whirls on her heels and hurries off. Weyland continues to take in the utter ruin around him. Fury and resolve tug equally at his heart.
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Mercy Johnson, Laura Mattley’s—aka Alexa Woods’—bandmate, cries wetly into a tissue. Her light-brown skin is flushed with pent-up emotion and she shakes her head with disbelief.
“I don’t know how you do it, Laura. I have a really bad breakup and I’m a blubbering mess for at least three months. But you? Barry has been asking you out for almost a year and you’re still so adamant to say ‘no’. I tell you what…If I didn’t have my kids…I don’t think I’d get through this divorce. This is hubby number two. And I’m only forty-one. Am I supposed to go another two rounds before I’m sixty?”
Laura/Lex allows her best friend to vent her emotions. She reaches into her bag and offers Mercy another tissue. Mercy takes the tissue and then also takes the entire travel pack from Laura’s hand.
“My thinking is simple,” Laura says. “And it’s never let me down. You have to find the meaning in life. Like your kids. They mean the world to you. And that’s great. For me, it’s the band…And my independence. I’m not looking to make any major life changes. At present. Things can always change. Life is funny that way.”
Laura inhales sharply and then slowly releases the air in her lungs. Memories crowd together in her mind. Memories of another life, another time.
“My father had a saying. If you aren’t living for something, then you stand for nothing. He really tried to live by those words. I miss him.”
Mercy scrunches her face and studies Laura carefully.
“You haven’t told me much about your father. Or any of your family…For that matter.”
“Nothing to tell. My mother died before I was two. And my father—. He’s been gone a long time. I’ve tried to move on. It’s better that way.”
Mercy offers Laura an apologetic grin.
“Sorry. Touchy subject? I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No. It’s fine. It’s the past. That’s not who I am anymore. Time to live in the present. Come on. The band’s waiting for us.”
“Let ‘em sweat a little while, Laura. You know they won’t do anything without their star attraction.”
“Nah,” Laura/Lex says. “It’s the crowd I’m worried about. We’ll take a detour to the dressing rooms so you can refresh your makeup.”