Stuck

by Samantha Durante

  Drying her face and glancing up at her bright emerald eyes in the mirror, she reflected that in some ways living in Raptor felt an awful lot like a subterranean, military version of her sorority house back on the drama set of the Eastern State University campus. Life imitates art? She laughed darkly to herself, taking the stairs two at a time down to B3, where she knew she’d find the rest of the rebel leaders gathering.

  Exiting the stairwell into the long, straight, narrow (of course, gray) hall, Alessa shook off an involuntary shudder as the familiar surroundings conjured visions of her nightmare – the same one that had plagued her almost every night since reaching Raptor’s sanctuary. Only a dream, she reassured herself. She smoothed down the raised hairs on her forearms for good measure.

  Then again, she mused, she felt like she was having trouble telling fantasy from reality lately, ever since her brief encounter on the train with the monster that she could only think of in her head as Joe. Could that terrifying creature really have been her best friend? The whole thing felt too surreal to be true, like a few moments out of time – and certainly out of the realm of possibility. She must have just dreamed it.

  But no. Rubbing the raised scar on her palm – left by a splinter from the broomstick she’d broken into a makeshift spear to protect herself from the bloodthirsty beast – Alessa knew she had not imagined it. Yes, it had only been a few seconds of horrible realization thrumming through her psyche before the train braked into the station and Joe, or whoever it was, pounced out the broken gap in the train car’s wall. But it had happened. She was sure of it, as much as she wished she were wrong.

  Passing through the crowd of rebels thronging across the tight corridor, Alessa tried in vain to swallow back the memory of the alien feelings that had bathed her in the railcar, her ability to read the creature’s emotional state a “gift” that the damned stitch had somehow unlocked in her mind. The frustration, the confusion, the fear… the overwhelming struggle to contain that aching thirst. And through all of this, an undercurrent of something that felt very much like an apology.

  An apology! Alessa shook her head. She could drown in her own shame just thinking of it. If anyone was apologizing, it should have been her. For leaving him, for all those years, to rot in Paragon’s grasp. For moving on, for forgetting about him, for being so goddamn dense as to not realize it’d been him the entire journey last winter, watching her, following her, protecting her –

  “’Morning, sunshine!” It was Janie, peeling off the back of a pack of idle dawdlers milling in the hall, her short messy bob swinging with just a tinge less energy than Alessa would normally expect.

  In the last two months Janie had thankfully mostly recovered – physically, at least – from her months in captivity. But Alessa still felt like Paragon’s prisons, and particularly the failure to rescue Nikhil, had taken their toll on her sister’s usual spunk. But then again, maybe it was just early.

  Locking arms with Alessa, she smirked, “Ready for another rousing rendition of ‘Who’s Regina Gonna Chew Out Today?’”

  Alessa laughed under her breath. “Hey, as long as it’s not me… I’m on time this morning.”

  “For once,” Janie teased.

  Having been locked up in solitary for so long, Janie had had no problem adjusting to the simulated sunlight (“Better than 24/7 darkness!”) and aesthetic monotony of their underground bunker. She was just happy to be around people again.

  But Alessa had been spoiled – between the gorgeous ESU campus set and then the freedom of the open forest, and even the desolate beauty of the city’s semi-ruins, the rebels’ new base was starting to feel like a prison all its own – and an overcrowded one at that. Alessa could not wait for some fresh air on her next training mission tomorrow – especially since Isaac was on the same assignment. Speaking of…

  “Hey, have you seen Isaac anywhere?” Alessa asked her sister.

  Janie gently nudged Alessa’s ribs then pointed her elbow further down the corridor. Off to one side stood Isaac, chatting with Lizzie.

  Though on closer look, maybe “chatting” wasn’t quite the word. Isaac’s body was turned away from Lizzie, his lips drawn in a tight line, the oceans of his eyes cold. And he was nodding rigidly in assent, but begrudgingly.

  “That doesn’t look good,” Alessa murmured quietly.

  “Nope,” Janie agreed. “That’s why I was standing here, so I could keep an eye on them. When Lizzie approached him she was making her beer pong face,” she offered by way of explanation.

  Alessa knew what she meant – she well remembered the intimidating scowl that ultracompetitive Lizzie would don whenever someone broke out a drinking game back in their sorority days. She didn’t like the idea of her turning it on Isaac.

  “Hmpf,” Alessa grunted.

  They watched for a moment longer and Janie leaned her head in close to Alessa’s. “You think she’s threatening him about, you know, again?” she whispered.

  Alessa couldn’t imagine what else this could be about.

  Isaac would do anything to protect Josephine, his sister – well, faux-sister from the drama, but still the closest thing he had left to family… besides monster-Joe, Alessa reminded herself, immediately dismissing the thought. And Lizzie knew it, and she was using it to control him; though to what end, Alessa still wasn’t quite sure.

  “I don’t know what she expects him to do,” Janie murmured. “Even if he doesn’t tell Regina that Josephine is naturally immune from the virus – which is setting himself up for some real trouble if, or rather, when Regina finds out – doesn’t Lizzie realize that everyone’s going to put two and two together on their own eventually anyway?”

  “Well,” Alessa breathed back, “not if no one else knows that we were all vaccinated before the outbreak. And right now Lizzie and Isaac are the only ones who know that.”

  “Besides us,” Janie pointed out.

  “Yeah, but we can’t say anything without hurting Isaac. If we tell anyone, Lizzie’s almost certainly right that they’ll immediately start experimenting on Josephine, which would kill Isaac – and if that doesn’t do it, Regina will. You know she doesn’t take kindly to being kept out of the loop.”

  Janie breathed out an exasperated sigh. “But what is Lizzie’s endgame here? How long does she plan to draw this out? I know she keeps talking about peace, but does she really think she’ll be able to reunite the rebels with Paragon again, after all they’ve done to us?”

  Alessa shook her head. She definitely could not imagine anyone here willingly returning to the colony, not after realizing they’d all been drugged and lied to and exploited for their labor for years. But then again, most people didn’t even know the half of it.

  “She seems to think it’s important enough to try,” Alessa reflected. “Plus, again, no one else knows just how bad the Engineers really are.” Thinking of Paragon’s clandestine leaders – and the secret architects of the entire apocalypse – made her want to spit. “No one knows they’re responsible for the virus, the genocide, all of it. I know Lizzie has told Isaac they had their reasons, but –”

  “But how can we continue to keep this from everyone?” Janie interjected. “It’s not right. They deserve to know!” she hissed.

  Alessa shrugged in defeat.

  Yes, she thought, just like Isaac deserves to know that his brother might still be alive – but she couldn’t bring herself to say anything about that, either, knowing the guilt would eat him alive. She at least had to be sure first. She had to know it was really Joe.

  And in the same vein, she couldn’t put Josephine in harm’s way until they at least had figured out what Lizzie was intending to do with the knowledge that everyone was immune, and that the Engineers were behind it all. Maybe she had some kind of plan. If only Alessa could win Lizzie’s trust, maybe there might be some kind of solution here…

  But before Alessa could finish her thought, there was a commotion at the far end of the hall.

  “Coming through!�
� a frantic male voice yelled. “Clear the way!”

  The rebels all reacted at once, spinning towards the hubbub and obediently pinning themselves against the walls to make space. Two soldiers bounded down the corridor, a bloodcurdling moan emanating from the makeshift stretcher suspended between them. It looked like they were headed towards the infirmary.

  As the trio overtook the crowds of onlookers, the hallway erupted in hushed alarm. Many lifted their hands to their gaping mouths or averted their eyes, out of respect or fear or both.

  “Oh my god,” Alessa heard someone nearby gasp.

  And then they passed her, and she understood: the poor guy’s clothes – and skin – could only be described as “shredded.” He was writhing in pain, and his innards looked to be held in place by a blood-soaked towel, as if he’d been mauled by a bear.

  But not a bear, she thought, gulping back guilt. Not a bear at all.

  A creature, Alessa knew.

  A creature like Joe.

  3. PROGRESS

  Before she could dwell on the thought of Joe ripping apart another human being, the soldiers disappeared into the sick bay, and the masses in the hall resumed their previous level of anticipatory chatter, albeit with a lingering undercurrent of unease.

  Swallowing to relieve the dryness in her throat, Alessa looked up just as Isaac took this opportunity to exit from his conversation with Lizzie. He held Alessa’s gaze, shaking his head ever so slightly to signal his exasperation as he paced up the hall towards her and Janie.

  Reaching them, Isaac slid his hand around Alessa’s hip and planted a quick, soft kiss on her lips in greeting.

  Pulling away reluctantly, Alessa murmured, “Was that about what I think it was about?”

  Isaac rolled his eyes. “Lizzie was just ‘reminding’ me that if what we know gets out, not only will Regina be livid with me and make Jo’s life hell, she’ll also almost certainly find some way to make Martha and Al pay for telling me about what’s going on with the infants.”

  Ruthless, Alessa thought to herself, shaking her head. Of course Lizzie wouldn’t forget about Isaac’s soft spot for his faux-parents from the drama.

  “How thoughtful of her,” Janie sneered.

  Alessa took a heavy breath. “I hate to say it, but Lizzie’s probably right.”

  “I know,” Isaac sighed. “I just can’t stand all these secrets.”

  Alessa nodded in understanding. She didn’t like it either, but she was sure Regina was just trying to avoid inciting a panic by keeping all this from the rebels. After all, it would be horrific enough watching every newly born baby be taken by the virus in a matter of days – but if they also knew that they, as parents, were immune and that their immunity for some reason could not pass to their future children? Especially with no cure in sight, it would be existential bedlam.

  So far Regina had managed to shield most everyone from these terrible truths, with the exception of Alicia and Martha, whose medical expertise was needed to try to find a solution, and Isaac and Lizzie, whom Alessa was fairly certain Regina didn’t even know about. Lizzie had revealed to Isaac during one of her threats that she’d overheard Alicia talking about it to Regina, and Isaac of course had been sworn to secrecy by Martha and Al.

  “I’m sure Regina has her reasons,” Alessa consoled him.

  “She’d better,” Janie retorted. “Because it’s pretty messed up not to tell everyone that they’re already vaccinated against the thing they’re most petrified of – oh, and by the way, that same virus was released deliberately by our enemies. Doesn’t she realize we could be using this to rally everyone?”

  Alessa had to agree that it did seem out of character for Regina to keep such monumental information to herself, especially when she could be using it strategically. But maybe she was worried people would be so angry they wouldn’t maintain order. Or so relieved that they’d go and accidentally create a whole generation of doomed babies.

  Or maybe – like Alessa’s suspicions about the monster being Joe – she just didn’t know for sure, and wanted to be positive before she said anything. After all, the only reason Isaac or Lizzie were certain of any of this is because they’d heard it out of the Developer’s mouth verbatim.

  “You know,” Alessa pointed out, “we’ve been assuming Lizzie told her mother everything, but maybe she didn’t. Maybe Regina doesn’t know anything except that the infants are dying and she can’t seem to stop it from happening. Even if she has suspicions about immunity and the origins of the virus, it wouldn’t help to tell everyone if she wasn’t positive.”

  Janie considered for a moment before issuing a begrudging groan.

  “Well, whatever it is,” Isaac concurred, clenching his jaw in exasperation, “as Lizzie has been so kind as to point out, we certainly can’t ask Regina about any of it without putting Jo, Martha, Al, and ourselves in the line of fire. So we don’t really have a choice regardless. We just have to trust that Regina knows what she’s doing.”

  “And that Lizzie isn’t up to anything shady,” Janie added, a tinge of skepticism in her voice.

  “Come on.” Alessa gently pushed them both towards the meeting room, where everyone was beginning to file in. “Let’s grab our seats.”

  The three of them shuffled in to the back of the room and, noticing most of the chairs were already filled, perched together on the edge of a desk that had been shoved against the far wall. Having once been some kind of open workspace, large whiteboards and projection screens adorned the gray walls, and it was equipped with several desks and tables, most of which had been pushed aside to make room for additional chairs. Thirty or so high-ranking rebel officials met here for a briefing each morning before setting out to the day’s assignments.

  Regina’s silver-blonde hair flashed as she stood up at the front of the room, the deepening lines around her eyes crinkling as she glanced around, waiting for everyone to quiet.

  “Good morning.” She loosed a quick smile – brisk and efficient, like everything else about her – before continuing.

  “It should be a quick scrum today, as our plans are progressing on schedule and,” she cleared her throat and shook her head in sympathy, “besides that unfortunate business in the hall just now, for once, no other unexpected impediments have surfaced in the past 24 hours.”

  Someone let out a half-joking “whoop!” and Regina narrowed her eyes at the disruption, but her usually withering glare was softened, and she seemed pleased nonetheless. Isaac caught Alessa’s eye and raised a bemused eyebrow – things must really have been going well for Regina to tolerate any degree of disorder.

  “All right, all right. Status, please,” Regina commanded.

  Usually Carlos, the rebels’ head of militia, went first, but Alessa couldn’t seem to locate him. Instead, an athletic dark-skinned man in the front row stood up. He looked familiar to Alessa but she didn’t know his name. “Carlos is leading a training mission until tomorrow,” he explained, “so I’m filling in for Military. In-field training is on track, despite some surprises from those… creatures. All units have had at least four assignments and many are on their fifth. We should be complete by the end of next month, per the schedule. Next mission leaves tomorrow.”

  “Great, thank you,” Regina replied. “Personnel?”

  Michael, one of the core circle of the rebellion – and the first resistance ally Alessa and Joe had made contact with, way back when in Paragon – cleared his throat and smoothed the front of his shirt down over his slight paunch. “Morale is steady, no crises to report.” An empathetic social psychologist, Michael had taken charge of treating anyone who was having trouble adjusting to life in Raptor. “And I believe, until a few moments ago at least, everything was clear in Medical as well.” Like the others, Alessa scanned the rows of chairs looking for the medical lead’s gorgeous poof of natural kinky hair, but came up empty-handed. “Alicia is a bit tied up at the moment,” Michael explained. “She sends her apologies.”

  Regina nodded grave
ly – of course, Alicia would be attending to the wounded soldier from the pre-meeting commotion in the hall.

  After a pause, Regina continued. “Facilities?”

  A middle-aged woman in the center of the room rose. “Fully operational. Rotations are set through the next four weeks and have been communicated to residents. Maintenance has been running smoothly.”

  “Did we get access to the weapons storeroom on B2?” Regina inquired.

  “We did,” the woman replied. “But there’s a small snag…”

  Sato, the rebels’ mechanical expert, straightened up from her characteristic slouch and waved a tattooed arm. “I’ll take this one.” The older woman nodded and sat down.

  “We’ve got the weapons cache,” Sato explained, “but it seems there’s some kind of lock on the devices themselves. Bioscanners, I believe. So I need to go into the system and figure out how to reprogram them. It might take a day, or might take a month – I’m not sure yet. If we have the necessary codes, it will be an easy job. But if I have to break the encryption, it might take some time.”

  “Thank you, Sato,” Regina nodded. “Please prioritize this over your other work – we need every functional weapon we can get before we initiate the operation to liberate Paragon.”

  At that, the room began to buzz with excited chatter.

  Regina smiled. “Yes, we’re getting close. You’ve all been hard at work the past couple months in preparation, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed. We’ve made massive strides in getting this facility up-to-shape and utilizing its resources to transform a mostly-civilian body of refugees into trained and skilled fighters.” She paused for emphasis. “I am very proud of the efforts of everyone in this room.”

  Alessa couldn’t help but feel a faint glow in her chest at the rebel leader’s words – she knew she and Isaac had played a significant role in the rebels’ success, and it felt good. Against all odds, she’d actually made a difference. Maybe the people of Paragon wouldn’t be suffering much longer.