by Micah Thomas
Her thoughts were interrupted by a Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. It wasn’t a hornet’s nest. It was something she didn’t think she’d ever hear again: the buzzing of a cellphone on vibrate. Crouching, Cassie searched for the source of the sound. There, beneath a pile of leaves, a minor scratch mark on a tree trunk. This was a rendezvous checkpoint—she knew immediately. Cassie brushed the leaves aside, encountering slugs and spiders among the damp earth. In the little messy hole sat a cigar box. Her hands were shaking when she picked it up. Inside, safely within a Ziploc bag, was a phone and external battery.
Cassie checked to see if anyone was around before taking the phone out of the bag. She was still very much alone and could no longer hear anyone shouting for the woman. It was a newish model smart phone. To her knowledge, the networks were done and these didn’t work anymore. Was this someone’s music stash? There wasn’t even a security passcode on it. Whoever left this must have been pretty sure of themselves. The screen was cracked, but it worked. There were full signal bars. What the fuck? Cassie was was on the verge of laughing until she read through the message history.
No signs. - J
Pregnancy confirmed. Thanks for the kit. We’re bringing her in. - M
Signs of what? What was this? She scrolled back the text history and saw the messages went all the way to when she’d been picked up six months ago. There were back and forth messages throughout and she started with the first.
Probably contact. Send reference photo for verification. - J
The next message from M had an attachment. She opened it and saw a familiar face. It was the photo from her work badge from the hospice home.
Verified - J
Dread hit her stomach with a punch and Cassie dropped the phone and slammed her boot into the box. She wanted to scream, but her survival instincts kicked in hard. In a sense, Cassie was alive again.
She dropped to a crouch and held position. She was in enemy territory; she’d been captured. They’d taken her and she’d gone as willingly, with less fight in her than a lamb in a slaughter house. Immediately, she knew how Jeff was able to get them supplies; how he’d been able to keep them safe. They were government. Probably Black Star, the agency that had unleashed these monsters in the first place. Could be anyone, but they were the enemy no matter which one they were. They had her, but she had an advantage: they didn’t know she knew. Go back to camp, Cassie thought. Don’t let on. Take the bike in the night. But wasn’t someone always watching her? Except now. The whole camp was searching for their crazy lady. It had to be now.
She felt he ping in her mind—a reach from someone, and it wasn’t Henry. There was someone out here. Her psychic abilities had been asleep, or so she thought, but now Cassie knew there was someone calling to her, practically signaling directions. She scanned the woods for another searcher—for Jeff, her goddamn handler—but saw none. Careful to reduce sounds, not even stepping on a branch or rustle of leaves, she followed an invisible path through the woods.
The trees lined up against jutting slate and granite; a cave. She almost didn’t see it, naturally concealed by ferns around the entrance. Cassie scanned behind her again and was satisfied she hadn’t been followed. Getting to her knees, she was careful to move slow and not aggravate her leg. As she crawled into the dark hole, the sandstone grit and dirt were rough. Her own body blocked the light from the entrance as she felt her way forward with one hand outstretched before her. Momentarily, Cassie wished she’d brought the cellphone for illumination, but they would probably be able to use it to track her. Shit. Her scar tissue ached being so bent over, hunched this way, but she was close. Her intuition told her so.
The air was cold and smelled of coal—an alkaline scent that was almost slimy. She had a sudden fear: what if she was picking up some animal or Morlock signal calling her to her death? She banished this thought. Nothing threatening about the call. Cassie scuffed forward and felt the ceiling rise until she could no longer touch both sides of the cave wall. I must be in a chamber, she thought.
“Hello?” she asked quietly.
A wheezy voice answered back, disturbingly close, “Cassie.” It was the old woman.
“Where did you go?” Cassie asked.
“Does it matter?”
“You know I hate riddles.”
Ugh. That one weird eye Cassie disliked in the woman’s head lit up, giving off a grey light which dimly illuminated the area. It pulsed bright as a Fit-Bit in a dark room. Bright as the abandoned cellphone. However, it was creepy as fuck to Cassie.
“Christ,” Cassie said with alarm.
In the strange light, the woman looked terrible, her robe in tatters. Bug bites and scratches crisscrossed her thin, sickly body. She wheezed and Cassie could smell her waste water in the cave.
“What are you doing out here?” Cassie asked.
“Waiting for you.” The woman shuddered, her old breasts flapping sadly against her distended belly. “Listen. The good man has something to tell you.”
Cassie knew the name. The Goodman. Wiseman. Chills went down her spine and up her arms. This was all connected. “Are you in contact with him?”
The woman’s voice changed; deeper, richer. A sound which didn’t belong in her mouth at all. “Cassie, I’m right here.”
The hits keep coming. Cassie was pissed before. Now, she was furious, but also, strangely satisfied. Her worst fears had been confirmed. “Show yourself. I know you can do that. Henry told me about it.”
“Henry. How is my boy?”
Cassie knew it was an illusion. She could feel Wiseman touching her mind as he created the visual representation of himself for her benefit as a ghost materialized before her. She’d seen Henry do the dead Jedi trick before and she wasn’t impressed. Sitting cross-legged next to the weird woman, Wiseman as he had been; a paternal black man in his 50s, close cropped hair, and face holding wide friendly features. Cassie would hear him out, but she was wary.
“We don’t have much time,” the apparition said both out loud through the woman and directly to Cassie’s mind.
“You or me?”
“You have been tricked and I was a party to that trick.”
“I figured that out. Speak your piece.”
“The others—the exiles. They are returning. I feel them in the dark. They’ve grown in their new home. Found others not like you, but like you.”
“What others?”
“You must be ready. The betrayer must be ready, too. I am afraid he has played in his little kingdom and not prepared.”
“Jeff?”
“That one is of no regard. I speak of the true enemy.”
“Hakim? Are you taking about Hakim?” Cassie was growing impatient and her back hurt from hunching.
“As you call him.” The old crone coughed and Wiseman’s image glitched with the distortion of an overplayed VHS tape. “He is not infinite, you know.”
“I don’t care. Save your big plots and schemes. None of that helped Henry before.” This was new information to Cassie, but what did it matter if these fucking aliens battled it out? “Are you going back to Jeff? Back to Black Star?”
“Cassie, I am dying.”
“Heard that before. We thought you were dead.”
“This you must understand: without a host, without a home, our lands destroyed, this death is true and final.”
“Prove it,” Cassie said.
“I don’t have to die. I could join you instead. Offer my gifts, meager as they are now, guide you to safety. Together, we will combat the others.”
She felt him probe the surface of her mind and a sudden surge of energy from within her rebuffed him. His illusion ceased immediately, but the woman’s pulsing eye shone in the dark. For a moment, Cassie felt the fire as sure as anything. She could melt this cave around her. Then it was gone.
Henry? she asked inwardly, unsure, afraid to hope.
“You’d let me die?” Wiseman asked, hurt.
Cassie thought this parlay over; this wasn’t an
alliance she wanted.. “I don’t want anything you have to offer. From the beginning, you promised answers, wisdom, but have delivered nothing. You can sit in your cave and rot or go back to Jeff and whatever. Goodbye, Wiseman.”
“Help me!” the woman and Wiseman screamed together as Cassie turned and scrambled out of the cave. Their combined voice was a pitiful thing.
If Henry was here, he’d probably burn them up. It would be the second time Henry burned Wiseman’s body. But if Henry was here, Cassie would probably want to burn up Jeff and the others for good measure.
Her leg didn’t bother her as she walked back to camp. She had found her motivation after all. Be cautious, she thought, holding back the urge to run. Look like you are doing what you normally do, she instructed her body. This place is not your home. These people are not your friends. You are in enemy camp. Take what you need and leave.
First stop was her tent, where she filled a backpack with food, water, and a first aid kit. She’d have to find more on the road. She grabbed her leather jacket—it was the only thing that was hers, though it once belonged to her uncle. It was a warm day, but the phoenix on the back gave her confidence. Her bike would be with the other cars. Now Cassie did move fast. She stopped short of running, but no one had returned, so it was time to go.
She was home free and about to start the bike when she heard the dog whine. Fuck, little Kate and the dog were watching her. Cassie looked at them, both quietly gazing in her direction. Don’t say goodbye. Don’t do it. Cassie forced a smile and put the helmet on her head. She left them there. The dog wasn’t hers. The kid wasn’t hers. It was cruel to have them here. They were innocent bait. They’d forget about her and she’d forget about them.
***
Cassie rode west. Cassie rode north. Cassie had lost her sense of direction. Life, death, and dreaming; everything was the same.
Her mother was gone. Henry was gone or silenced. Wiseman was still scheming, but soon to be gone. Jeff had been a total betrayal and Don was dead for no reason at all. She didn’t have a single friend. Cassie was at the end of all roads. The entire world was a trap and she’d never been so alone. The weight of it hurt her head. What did she even want anymore? Her bullet scar ached as her body tensed on the bike, bracing against the wind. She could find a cabin and live out the rest of her days as a hermit. She’d never contemplated taking her own life and wasn’t going to start now, but what other options were there?
There was still Don’s plan B. Fuck if she knew how to get in, but she’d trusted the wrong side—almost blindly—again and again in her life. She knew almost nothing about Hakim. Another demon from Black Star’s portal to another world. He had been the adversary according to Henry, who, at the time, had been listening to Wiseman. What had he done that was so bad? The problem she’d have to solve was what did Don know? What secrets had he not told her? How would she get into the city? She’d only know if she tried.
Chicago, then. Cassie did the math and could make this trip with one stop, if the weather held, and it seemed like it would. Goddamnit, she’d knock on the door or die trying. Baby. Baby. Baby. It would either work and she got in, or she would do something else until they were safe. Maybe go back to Don’s place and hide out. She’d have to burn that bridge when she came to it. Cassie exhaled sharply, sick of this alternate reality.
Things had been so simple before. She used to have a job. Back then, her worries were whether to shop at Fry’s or Safeway. Sometimes she had thought about getting a cat. Was normal life so bad? If she’d had a kid—and imagine her baby daddy ran off—she’d have made an okay mom. There would have been work, and diapers, and daycare. There’d have been her mother and trips to the zoo. She likely would have never left Phoenix.
Now, she had so many fears and could act on none of them. She wanted to be free from the endless cycle of fight or flight. Cassie should have known Jeff was a mistake. It had seemed too easy. Let someone else drive, she had thought. Trust someone to lead and let life happen. Well, that fucked up things pretty bad. Cassie knew she put on a tough exterior; the pragmatism of a soldier and nurse were a part of her. When she was alone though, the vulnerable ghosts of a girl inside wanted to cry out.
As the sun’s last rays faded on the horizon, darkness overtook the road. Cassie crested a hill and saw a car up ahead. Rear lights; the familiar red glow. She kept her distance. There was nothing she’d rather not do than interact with another person right now. Cassie had continually checked behind her for the first 100 miles, sure her disappearance would have triggered helicopters. Black Star had been tight with the government before. She imagined they had only gotten tighter since the whatever. They’d had her twice. She’d never be theirs again. This wasn’t going to be a one night ride, so Cassie pulled off the highway. Even with the spring weather, the night was cold and her body ached; she didn’t want to spend the night outside. This had been easier with Henry. Fucking Henry. Sweet love of mine, where did you go?
She knew she was somewhere outside of South Bend, Indiana. She needed gas and figured she could find it in the morning. The immediate need was to secure a shelter. The tent she’d left behind at camp would have been nice. Off the exit and down the merger lane, Cassie saw signs for gas stations. At least one might be operating, she thought. She chose the best-looking Shell station and parked her bike in the shadows. There was little risk of anyone taking it. For all she knew, this might be a ghost town.
After peeking in the windows of the Shell station, Cassie felt more assured that this one was in pretty good shape. She wouldn’t break into it unless no one came in the morning. There was another station across the street—a Mobile. It looked worse for wear, and Cassie crossed the street to see if it would be usable for a shelter; possibly there would be a vending machine that hadn’t been harvested yet. The building was empty, but good enough for the night.
As she laid out a bedroll in the store room, Cassie let the emotions come and cried for herself. Part of her felt everything that had mattered was gone and her heart broke. The other part of her knew she had to carry on. Baby. Baby. Baby. She felt lost, alone, and completely overwhelmed. She wasn’t strong enough for this. Cassie let the tears fall until her face ached and her nose ran. Everything was terrible. Everything was lost. Everyone that mattered was gone and only enemies remained. All the hurt she’d been holding inside since Mexico poured out of her and she grieved for her own life for the first time.
Eventually, the tears slowed. Get it together, girl. She took a deep breath and held it for a three count. Then another. She’d sleep. Then she’d go.
***
In the morning, Cassie took another look around and found an unopened box of Hostess cakes. As she ate, she thought about staying in Indiana. If she hadn’t been on the run, how nice would it be to be around other families. Her baby would have someone to play with. Other moms would give her advice on getting him or her to latch. It would be a sweet life in the shadow of the dome. So close to the alien presence. In this changed for the worse world, what kind of life would Cassie have? It was moot. She was on the run. Whatever it was that Black Star had in store for her, it wouldn’t be pretty. Devious fuckers. She pictured getting dissected, having her baby ripped from her arms—a new subject for fresh experiments to see if Henry’s legacy had passed on. Fuck all that. Not. My. Baby. Her anger gave her all the motivation she needed. The only place she’d be safe—and maybe not even then—would be to go where Black Star could not follow. If she could get in.
Back on the road, Cassie was rested and ready for anything. The mantra came to her from when she consoled hospice patients having anxiety attacks. She knew where she came from, where she was, where she was going. Thirty minutes of hard, fast riding and she could see the blue dome of the city. Goddamn, it was enormous. Bigger than she’d imagined. It had to be miles and miles high and across. She’d never seen anything short of a mountain range to compare it in scale. It was an entirely unnatural shade of blue, opaque at this distance. She wond
ered if she’d be able to see through it closer.
The suburbs of Chicago along the way were ghost towns. Abandonment signs were everywhere, visible from broken Highway 90 leading to the city. Massive pot holes were one thing, but it got worse the closer she got to the city. Deep gouges and ruts tore up the road. Tanks. They’d had tanks through here. She wondered if there would be a military post. Were they still worried about an invasion? She hoped it would be as dead as the Mexican border, which only had some token watch dog.
She found less than that. As lanes converged, Cassie slowed to get around a half a mile-long traffic jam. She could maneuver the bike through most of it, but as the conditions worsened, she was going so slowly she might as well have been walking. With great remorse, Cassie said goodbye to her uncle’s bike. If Henry was around, she’d have him give it a viking funeral.
A quarter mile to go, and the highway was a war zone. She’d seen this in Iraq and Afghanistan. The pavement was bombed out. Cars flipped and destroyed. Craters blocked her path. All this wreckage was at least two years old. Cassie scrambled down and up the other side of a massive hole in the road, careful not to get caught on exposed rebar. The last thing she needed was tetanus. The pattern of the debris field came together for her. This hadn’t been from combat; they demo’d the road to stop traffic. To stop migrants. Cheaper than a wall.
The destruction tapered off as Cassie approached the base of the wall. If the now dead and reduced to ashes President Chissom had his way, a wall would have been put around the entire country. Dumbass. Of all the lives lost in her and Henry’s fires, she regretted his the least. Her back and leg were throbbing from the effort to get here, but her excitement was equally as intense. The surface of the wall was contiguous. Opaque blue—shimmering electric blue. The unreality of the damned thing shocked Cassie. She’d seen wonders in her life, but how could a thing like this be real? How could she even get in? How did anyone? She felt perpetually behind the eight-ball in all this magic.
