Blacklisted

by Gena Showalter

  Run.

  Stay. Don't be a coward. Help him!

  No, you have to run. You have to save those kids.

  Ohmygod, I couldn't decide. Didn't know what to do. I moved, stopped, moved, stopped. Unsure. So unsure. What a horrible decision to make--and not a lot of time to make it. Save the Outers or try and save Erik. If it were just me, I'd leave. Right now. No hesitation. But Erik...

  "I'll stay and hold them off and you take the drugs." He'd do better at evading capture. And I, well, I'd survived A.I.R. once. I could do it again. And if I didn't, I will have gone down with a fight.

  "Camille." My name was a curse, a prayer, an ache. "You know that won't work. They'll have you pinned in minutes and be after me immediately after. I can hold them off longer, giving you the needed time. Just go!"

  "Erik. Please. I can't leave you," I whispered brokenly.

  Growling low in his throat, he spun toward me and fired a shot at my feet. I jumped. Yellow beams sizzled at the ground where I'd stood. "Stop! What are you doing?"

  "Go!"

  Still I held firm. "You'll be able to hide better and--"

  "They might kill you this time, Camille. Now do you understand? I'd rather the Outers die than you. Understand?" He fired another shot, this one closer. "Go! Help them and stay low."

  "Erik."

  "Go!" Another shot.

  I jumped away from it, never taking my gaze from him. An eternity passed while I gazed into his dark eyes. A mere second.

  "Go."

  "Okay," I said. Tears burned my eyes as I inched backward. They were different than any I'd shed before. They weren't born of fear; they weren't born of upset. They were born of hope and desperation. "Okay." You're leaving him? Coward!

  No, not a coward. I was giving up something I loved to save others. Leaving him was the right choice--not the best, not something I wanted. It was tearing me up inside, but it would save those aliens. Still, the tears flowed freely down my cheeks.

  Just then, the front door burst open, as did several of the windows in the upstairs rooms. Erik tore his focus from me and fired at the agents who were even now pounding their way inside. No, he wasn't aiming at them, I realized, plastering myself against the wall, trembling, crying harder, because he didn't really want to hurt or kill them. He was aiming toward them, trying to keep them back and buy the promised time.

  More footsteps echoed behind me.

  Using the shadows to my advantage, I scrambled toward the back of the house. Agents seemed to be everywhere, like flies, buzzing in every direction. They were black slashes of lethal power. Menacing death wielders.

  How was I going to get out of here undetected?

  A few seconds later, several of the agents spotted me and rushed for me. I remained in place, unsure what to do. Weapon...I had a weapon, right? I was just reaching into my boot, fingers curling around the hilt of a blade, when the first agent reached me. He backhanded me across the face and I cried out. I flew to the ground, knife forgotten, blood already trickling from my mouth.

  Still in his line of sight, Erik witnessed the entire thing. He roared a loud, high-pitched, piercing animal sound. An amber beam erupted.

  The guy who'd hit me fell to the ground beside me, a blackened hole sizzling in his chest. He didn't move. Dead. He was dead. I glanced up, wide-eyed, to see Erik's gun smoking. He'd killed him. For me. He hadn't killed for himself, but he'd killed for me.

  He fired at the others as they surged forward, forgetting me in their haste to stop Erik. When they reached him, they jumped on him, knocking him down, hitting and kicking him.

  "No," I screamed, shoving to my feet. No!

  Boom!

  An explosion rocked the entire house, throwing me onto my butt. Plumes of smoke wafted through the air, thicker than before. Rocks and timber rained. Erik, I suspected, had somehow created this distraction for me. I couldn't leave, though. Not until I knew he was okay.

  I once again pushed to shaky legs and glanced around, my eyes burning and watering. My nostrils stung. People were lying on the ground, moaning. Other were silent, unconscious or dead.

  "Erik?" I coughed. "Erik?"

  No response.

  "Erik!" Pure, undiluted panic filled me. I didn't see him. Where was he? My gaze landed outside, past the entrance that had been destroyed by the blast. I gasped, both relieved and horrified. Phoenix, Ryan, Cara, and Kitten had Erik pinned to the ground. But he was still fighting. With all of his strength, he was still fighting, his body bucking. His limbs flailing.

  I wanted so badly to go to him. To help him. To do something, anything, to save him. He'd shown me some basics today, but I knew deep down such moves would never defeat these people. If I tried, I'd be captured, too. I knew it. He knew it, that's why he'd told me to run. There was no denying it, no fooling myself. These agents were highly trained and by their sheer number they soon managed to subdue Erik completely.

  I couldn't help him and help the Outers who needed the Onadyn I carried.

  Once again I was faced with a choice. I'd thought I'd made it, thought I was prepared to run, but seeing Erik so helpless...

  I could let the aliens die or try and free Erik with no guarantee that I'd succeed, perhaps destroying this opportunity he'd given me. Evade capture now and you can fight to get him released later.

  But I can't leave him behind. Not like this.

  You have to. You have to remain free, so you can rescue him and Silver and Shanel. He knew this would happen.

  Unsure, I bit my bottom lip.

  Erik wants you to leave. Think of all he's done for you. Now you must do this for him.

  That finally convinced me. More than anything, Erik wanted those Outers saved. He'd given up his life and his career for them. And now, I would give up my own desires for them. No, for him. For Erik.

  Blinking back my tears, I spun on my heel and ran. Just ran.

  *

  When I hit a public street, I flagged down a cab. I told the driver to take me to the Southern District, and his mocha-colored face paled.

  "Sure you want to go there?" he asked, his disgust clear.

  I nodded. Sweat poured from me. Breath emerged shallow and quick. I constantly stole glances out the back window, expecting to see agents as we sped down the road. Thankfully, I didn't. A thousand times I rubbed the back of my neck, my shoulders making sure there was no welt there. If they'd implanted a GPS chip...

  I tried not to think about that. I tried not to think of Erik, of what was happening to him. They wouldn't kill him. They'd said as much. Or had they been lying in an attempt to make him cooperate? They had what they wanted now. The lab. The drugs.

  Please keep Erik safe, I prayed.

  We reached the Southern District twenty minutes later and I paid the driver with cash Erik had tucked into my boot earlier. Just in case, he'd said.

  Shaking, I stepped outside, already scanning for the apartment building Erik had mentioned. The night air was still cool, but it did little to soothe the burn of my exhaustion and fear. The cab sped away, tires squealing.

  I spotted the building just ahead, and my stomach bottomed out. The Offworlder Apartments.

  Crumbling, just as Erik had said. There were holes in the sides and one half of the roof was missing. I tentatively approached. A naked, drunken Mec was sprawled in front of the steps, snoring in his sleep. He'd thrown up on his own legs and bits of it were dried on his white skin.

  Cringing, I hopped over him. I searched my brain, but couldn't recall Erik giving me a specific apartment number. Damn this! If necessary, I'd knock on every door.

  There was no one in the bottom-level rooms, so I took the steps to the second floor. Several of the steps were missing and others were simply broken slabs of concrete. Falling into a dark abyss was a very real possibility. Dirt and grime covered every inch of the place and the smell of urine, sweat, and rotting food permeated the air. The higher I stepped, the more I gagged.

  I checked every single apartment on that
floor, and then the third. I met some angry Outers who waved fists in my face and pushed me away from their doors. I even met a few humans who wanted to sell me their "services."

  I was proud of myself. I didn't run away.

  On the fourth floor, I encountered several different alien species, but all of them wore ragged clothing and looked thin as sticks. One brave soul, a male teenager protecting his territory, waved a knife at me. I showed him mine, which was bigger, and he backed away.

  I didn't want to hurt him; I wanted to cry.

  I'd never seen such poverty in my life and everything inside of me was crumbling as surely as the building. No one answered the door at the next apartment and the door was unlocked, so I tentatively pushed my way inside. Death hung in the air, thick, black. Gasping moans echoed in my ears. In that moment I knew, knew, this was it.

  A pale-skinned Zi Kara lay on her stomach, a cup beside her, liquid still wetting the dirty shag carpet. It looked like she'd been walking from the kitchen and simply collapsed. Her head was tilted to the side and I could see that her eyes were open, glassy, and fixed straight ahead.

  Zi Karas were long and lean, with smooth gray skin, almost like that of a seal. Right now her skin appeared tinted yellow. Please be alive, I prayed.

  Crouching down beside her, I gently rolled her over. Her lips were tinted yellow, too, and raspy pants, shallow and light, escaped. She was alive! Slowly her black eyes moved to me, beseeching, silently begging for help. Her cheeks, which should have been rounded, almost fat, were sunken in.

  "Erik sent me," I said, grasping her under the neck and lifting. My heart broke for her. So helpless. So near death. This didn't have to happen. This should not have happened.

  She opened her mouth to say something but no sound emerged.

  I dug in my pocket and withdrew a vial. I popped the cork with my teeth, and a little of the liquid splashed on my tongue. Tasteless, I mused, a rush of dizziness hitting me. For a split second, my lungs froze, refusing to fill with air.

  Panic didn't have time to take root. A second later, I was breathing normally. Dear Lord. Was that what addicts experienced? How could they stand it?

  Shaking my head to regain focus, I poured the contents down the woman's throat. She swallowed greedily. At first, nothing happened. But slowly, so slowly, the yellow tint of her skin gave way to gray. Her glassy eyes cleared, making them appear like polished onyx.

  "Children," she gasped, her voice heavily accented. "My children."

  I pushed to my feet and hurried through the apartment. One child, a little boy, was sprawled out on the bathroom floor. The other, a teenage girl, was propped on her bed, staring out at the world silently.

  I fed them both a vial of Onadyn.

  They were slower to recover than their mother. And for a long while I didn't think the boy would make it. Even with the drug, he was weak and helpless. More tears burned my eyelids.

  No wonder Erik fought so hard for these people.

  This was terrible. So terrible. So cruel.

  These aliens were innocent. How could A.I.R. deny them Onadyn like this? How?

  A family like this should not be punished for another's sins. Innocent. Innocent. The word continually echoed through my mind. For so many years I'd been oblivious to this. Maybe I hadn't known because I hadn't wanted to know. Maybe the information simply wasn't accessible to the average citizen.

  That didn't matter anymore.

  Something had to be done.

  I stayed at the apartment for over two hours, making sure the family was going to be okay. I let the mother--her name was Norenne--have all the vials. She carried four to her neighbor, who was in as bad shape as she had been.

  The neighbor's children never woke up, though.

  When I left, I was brokenhearted, torn up, but more determined than I'd ever been in my life. I was going to save Erik and I was going to save these Outers. Shy away from conflict? Never again!

  14

  After I'd purchased a disposable holocamera and taken pictures of the--I gulped, remembering--Outer's dead children, surely the most difficult thing I'd ever done, I walked to a payphone and dialed Shanel's number. I expected to leave a message, but she answered on the fourth ring.

  "Yeah?" she asked, her voice raspy with...tears? Sleep?

  "God, I'm so glad you're home," I breathed with relief. There was a street nearby and I wanted to jump out of my skin every time I saw a car. A few homeless stumbled along the sidewalk to my left. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

  "Camille? Is that you?"

  "It's me."

  "Sweet Jesus, I can't tell you how happy I am to hear your voice. Things were going so great, you know, and then they caught us! They surprised us, and I didn't know what to do. But you have to hang up," she said urgently. "I think they're tracking my calls. I think that's the only reason they released me. I mean, I'm okay. I'm in trouble with my dad, but they--" She choked on a sob. "They have Silver locked up. They questioned me and then sent me home."

  "I'm glad you're okay," I told her. "I love you."

  "You, too."

  I disconnected. Shanel was safe, so that was one less worry. I only prayed A.I.R. hadn't traced my call. Just in case, I walked around the corner and used a different payphone to call my parents.

  "Meet me in front of the Ship as soon as possible," I told them and hung up. I wanted to linger, talk to them, but couldn't risk it. Quaking, I hitched a ride on the bus. Every unexpected noise, every person that looked at me, nearly sent me into a whirlwind of panic.

  Once there, I waited in the shadows, pressed up against the building. My heart nearly skipped a beat when I saw my parents' car. They pulled into the parking lot. I looked around, searching for any type of tail.

  They didn't have one. That I could see. You really going to do this?

  Oh yeah. Sweating, trying to stay in the shadows, I inched toward their car. They were parked and about to get out. I rushed forward, opened the back door, and threw myself inside, staying as low as possible. I'd stuffed the camera in my pocket and it scratched at my stomach.

  Seeing me, both of my parents gasped.

  "Drive, Daddy."

  "Wh--"

  "Drive!"

  He gunned out of the parking lot, tires squealing.

  My mom twisted and gazed down at me. "Camille, I don't even know what to say to you." Fright and relief infused my mother's voice.

  "Don't look at me. Face forward. And watch for a tail."

  She obeyed, crying, "Oh, baby. Oh, baby, baby, baby. I've been so worried."

  I wanted so badly to hug her, but knew I couldn't. My gaze flicked to my dad. Even from his profile, I could see that his expression was stern and angry. His hair looked a little grayer and his face a little more lined.

  "Young lady," were the first words out of his mouth. "You have a lot of explaining to do. Why is your hair blue? Why are you dressed like that? What's going on? I've never had to worry about you before and suddenly that's all I can do. A.I.R.? Onadyn?"

  My mom reached back and grabbed on to my hand, squeezing. With her free hand, she wiped at the tears streaming down her cheeks. Her face was red and splotchy from crying. Her shirt was wrinkled at the side, as if she'd fisted the material one too many times.

  Stay strong. "Have you looked into the Onadyn laws?" I asked. My legs were so weak I would have fallen if I'd been standing.

  "No. There's no need. We're not getting involved."

  "I have pictures," I said, reaching for the thin camera tucked in my pocket. "These Zi Karas are related to an Outer who committed a crime. They can't get the supply of Onadyn they need. They're dying. They're--"

  "Destroy the pictures," my dad growled before I explained further. "We can't have any evidence linking you to otherworlder criminals."

  "Daddy. Please. Just look." I held the camera up and out, pressing the button that caused one of the photos to crystallize, becoming a hologram.

  Without taking his gaze from the road,
he shook his head. "I don't want to see them. You are to do and say nothing that will incriminate you in any way."

  Defeat seemed to be closing in around me, but I pressed on. "Aliens died, Daddy. I tried to save them by taking them Onadyn. I broke the law. Does that make me a bad person in your eyes? A criminal deserving of prison?"

  His hard features crumbled, which almost made me crumble. "I thought I taught you better than this," he whispered brokenly. "I thought I taught you to put your own family first. Maybe I was a terrible parent. Maybe--"

  "You're a wonderful parent," I said, cutting him off, "and I love you. But I've had my eyes opened. I can't pretend people aren't suffering. I can't pretend there's nothing I can do to help."

  "I don't want to hear this. You're my only daughter. I want you safe. Always."

  "Just hear me out. Please." When he remained silent, I let the story pour from me. Every detail. I left nothing out this time. As I spoke, they paled. They cried.

  "Oh, Camille." My mom dropped her head into her waiting hands. "This might very well have earned you a life sentence."

  I shoved the camera at them again, flicking through the bleak pictures one by one. "They're dying," I said. "Kids are dying because they can't get the Onadyn they need."

  My dad scrubbed a hand down his face, and the action reminded me of Erik. Erik. Thinking of him caused my stomach to clench. What was A.I.R. doing to him?

  Was he okay?

  "I can't let you get any more involved in this, Camille," my dad said with a shake of his head. He wasn't angry now, he was sad. "You could be killed. You've already put your own life at risk. And your future--" He pressed his lips together and shook his head. "No. Sorry."

  I peered up at him, my gaze unflinching. "I saved lives tonight. I made a difference. Together we can do more."

  He waved a hand through the air, the action clipped, angry. "I don't care about the Outers. I care about you."

  My mom's voice trembled when she said, "I can't lose you, baby. You're all I've got."

  "You won't lose me," I promised, but we both knew that wasn't a promise I could realistically make. "If I survived tonight, I can survive anything."

  "No," she said.

  "No," my dad reiterated. "Do you know what would happen to me if I tried to change the Onadyn laws? I'd be fired. No other firm would hire me. We'd lose my income, and we'd lose our home, our cars, our food." His features hardened. "We'll take you to A.I.R. headquarters and tell them you were forced. They'll stop hunting you and we can pretend this night never happened."