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Women of the Grey- The Complete Trilogy

Page 42

by Carol James Marshall


  Jacob saw Buck’s car in the driveway of his home. He felt relieved. He would start over, alone, and without worry of loss. Opening his truck door and waving at Buck, he almost stumbled knowing that he’d spend the rest of his days looking over his shoulder.

  Mother 52 and 12 struggled with Sunny. It took a bit longer than usual to get the box back to The Grey and an audience with Superior Mother. Superior Mother looked almost amused watching the box that was bumping back and forth against the walls. Sunny hissed loudly at them. Mother 12 looked scornfully at the box, then sighed, “We need to get her out and feed her ASAP, but I’m frightened. I’m not kidding around. I’m frightened.”

  Superior Mother did her best to seem uninterested in how fierce this baby was. The women of The Grey were creatures of intense savagery, to the point that they had almost extinguished their race by killing off their mates. This baby, was something Superior Mother had heard whispers of—an original just as savage as they were at home.

  Leaning on the box, Superior Mother heard Sunny pounding with her feet. “Sleep...” The pounding stopped. Superior Mother looked concerned. “Take her to the nursery, but quickly. Put her in a cage.”

  “A Cage?” Mother 52 had never seen a cage. “In the beginning, there was a need for cages, yes…” Superior Mother’s tone hinted at annoyance, and annoying her was a dangerous ambition. Mother 12 nodded, picked up the box, and walked out of the room. Superior Mother knew exactly where the cages were. She had been in one herself.

  The neighbor’s children gathered at her home. Their mother had gone missing. Not a trace of her was found. She hadn’t answered her phone last night, and by the morning, her daughter came to check on her. Police were called. The useless sheriff arrived. Now, her children sat looking at each other, anxiety in their eyes and questions hanging on their tongues.

  James

  If the window

  Had opened

  You would have seen

  The face of he

  He the devil himself

  And what he created.

  Through that window

  You would have seen

  What he found

  Pleasing to the eye

  What he enjoyed engineering

  The window would show you

  That darkness is out there

  Waiting in the shadows

  But you need only

  To heed the light.

  James’ mother made him his favorite breakfast—pancakes drizzled with cane syrup, poached eggs, and black coffee. It was mama love on a plate. Her last gesture of taking care of him. His father gassed the old truck he’s bought for his son, checked the air pressure on the tires, and shook his hand—daddy love.

  After breakfast, handshakes, and kisses for his mom, James left for seminary school with a certainty that he would be a light in the dark.

  Teresa

  With strawberry milkshake swirling around her teeth, Teresa thought carefully about her first question for Eleanor. There were so many questions that they jumbled together, being clumsy and making no sense.

  It was a mosh pit of “I need to know,” but she had only asked for three answers. Therefore, there could only be three questions. She needed to make them, not life-changing questions, but personal. She needed the answers to be personal—about her. She had already concluded that she was not going to be greeted with patience or kindness in The Grey. Her answers needed to be things that would give her comfort when all was dark, and she felt very assured that all would be dark for her.

  Teresa felt as if the questions stood between her and Eleanor like a wall. But, she couldn’t reach the wall, climb the wall, deal with the wall at all. Eleanor smiled at Teresa, clearly enjoying her chocolate malt milkshake, semi-hidden in some trees. She was careful to not be seen by the public, even though Teresa suspected at least one or two people had already noticed them and thought they were twins—luckily that was a thing for the humans.

  “Why the strange diet? I understand more than you think…why we hide. Why we need to breed with humans, but a raw vegan diet. It’s absurd.” Teresa pointed her chin at Eleanor, giving her a nod. Yes, that was question one—silly maybe, but important to her. She hated vegetables. She hated that nothing was cooked. That was the one plus to missions; the ability to drink coffee and eat whatever she pleased.

  Eleanor shot her eyebrows up at Teresa. She would not understand the younger woman; she just wouldn’t. Of all the things, you want to know why we eat as we do?”

  Teresa stood her ground. It might have seemed like nonsense to Eleanor, but it had been a question mark above her head since she went on her first mission and discovered that food could be a very different thing.

  “We, women of The Grey, are creatures…” Eleanor stopped herself, cleared her throat, and looked at the ground as if it had answers. “Excuse me…women of The Grey are beings that require careful handling. It is not in our nature to be docile, calm, and logical. We are very much the opposite. The diet is a means to keep our blood lust under control. The less we taste of beast, the better.”

  Teresa finished her milkshake and stared at the empty cup. Every question she had planned was now left in the cup and tossed in the trash. “Blood lust?” Eleanor sat on the ground, which took Teresa completely by surprise. Mothers liked clean and organized; sitting in dirt would ruin her pants. Sitting in dirt was a look from another Mother followed by head shakes and talk of grass stains.

  “Human blood, Sweet Cheeks, is our crack…our drug…when the blood is applied to our skin, it gives us a high that cannot be duplicated. When human blood is tasted, just a tiny, itty-bitty drop on the tongue will make us euphoric. Everything Superior Mother does—the control, the diet, the rules—is all to keep the Red Drug habit at bay.”

  “Red drug?” Teresa sat down next to Eleanor, hoping that she wouldn’t notice that was her third question. Eleanor patted Teresa’s knee.

  “That is what we call it, those of us who know. We call it the Red Drug. Knowledge of what it does to us could cause us to go feral and kill countless humans only to cover ourselves in their blood. Then, we would be continuously chasing that high…” Eleanor gave a soft laugh. “Which, my darling, is very inefficient.”

  Teresa shook the hair out of her eyes. it all made sense, but now there were a hundred more questions, and now nothing made sense. A tiny dot on a big map was where she was at. She had only a speck of truth. Eleanor nudged her. “It is time to go, Honey Bun.” Teresa gave Eleanor a pained look, rubbed her tongue over her teeth, then tried.

  “Once again go feral?” She wouldn’t budge until Eleanor answered that question.

  Sighing and stretching. “Yes, Baby Doll, once again. Didn’t you ever wonder what happened to our mates? Now, listen carefully, we are all the same and none different…We are all the same and none different.” Teresa didn’t understand Eleanor’s answer. Eleanor who had been patient, humoring Teresa, sweet even, now towered over her, giving her once last nudge. “Sleep.”

  Teresa heard Eleanor’s chant gallop around her ears. It seemed that, before she’d had even blinked four times, she was back in The Grey sitting in a room. Eleanor planted a dry, melancholy kiss on her forehead, then left. All she could think about was James and the taste of his mouth. A taste she’d never experience again.

  Eleanor closed the door, then told herself very gently so no ears would hear, “Let her go. Do not look back. Do not fret. Let her go.” Sitting on her bed late that night, watching nothing do nothing on the walls, Eleanor screamed in silence, knowing that somewhere in The Grey was Teresa and her fate.

  Teresa opened her eyes when she heard the doorknob turn and footsteps approach. Superior Mother and her assistant looked down at Teresa lying in bed. They both looked confused and pained, as if she had been in an accident and was now covered in blood and bruises.

  “Hello, young lady…you’ve got me in quite a pickle.” Behind Superior Mother, her assistant nodded in sad unison, then snapped her fingers. Tere
sa heard a “tisk-tisk” from Superior Mother, then her eyes were covered and there were hands all over her—grabbing her, touching her, removing the covers, taking off her clothes. When Teresa was about to scream, she heard Superior Nother’s assistant.

  “Really, now hush up, don’t fuss. Superior Mother specifically ordered that you feel no pain…Painless, got that? So hush it now, or I’ll gag you.” There were more hands, then a pinch. Teresa prepared to scream again, then a gag…

  “Totally warned her…” The assistant said, and Teresa knew the others nodded and looked at her like the girl who didn’t make the team. She was lifted onto another bed. She felt things hanging from her—tubes, wires, something. She was lifted by the hands—so many hands—and wheeled out of the room. The room she was in was left empty and screaming for her to come back. Superior Mother’s assistant watched the Mothers wheel her away and shivered. “Better her than me.” Then, went about her day.

  Israel

  Feeling ready, but not clear headed or steady, Israel checked his pockets again and again. He had spent days pouring over anatomy books, trying to study, trying to configure the best way to kill; the best way to make it quick and get out. He drew himself charts, mapping out exactly where he would hit Lisa in order to kill her. Then, out of frustration, he’d burn them. Knowing she was alien, she was different from every anatomy book, every diagram; this all could be meaningless. Lisa was not human; she was human-like and that could mean anything.

  How could he study for the unknown? There was no point in memorizing a map that was not drawn up yet. He knew he’d have to go in cold and learn as he went. As far as he knew, he was the beginning of this war. It might be a war he fought alone. He’d start it alone, and maybe end it alone; that was fine. He had made his choice.

  Walking over to Lisa’s apartment, Israel took every side street he could, every dark alley. If he saw someone crossing a street, leaving a building, he’d take another street. The point was not to be seen. The point was that he didn’t want there to be evidence. A block away from Lisa’s apartment, he stood against the building trying his best to push himself into it, against it, be part of the building, willing himself to gain the inner strength to follow the plan. The first step is the hardest, Israel uttered to the building and himself.

  The first step towards doing anything that seemed impossible was the most meaningful. You could take that first step towards your destination or away from it, choosing cowardice or fight.

  Israel chose fight.

  Several Mothers stood on the roof of Lisa’s building. All sighing loudly, upset that they had been called to such a mission by Superior Mother. “Why, yet again, drag this one in?” Mother 103 looked at the others. The other Mothers nodded, pinched their noses, and made faces as if something smelled awful.

  In the back of the group stood one Mother, whose name was Ruth. She didn’t bother to pinch her nose; she wouldn’t bother with gang mentality. Standing back, she waited, clenching her teeth, reminding herself again and again of her plan. The mutiny that she would start by killing Lisa.

  Lisa stared at the TV; she wasn’t really watching the TV, more just looking at the space the TV was in. The night seemed to drag on. There wasn’t a hint of daylight coming anytime soon. There wasn’t a whisper of sleep coming. She could night walk again, play with her newfound toy of freezing fuckers; yet, she sat lost in her idea of ‘break The Grey’. The concept of ‘how’ still running scared around the living room. She looked up, focused just for a minute, and there in front of her was Israel, just standing there in front of the TV looking at her. Closing her eyes, then opening them again, then again. Lisa wasn’t sure if she was really seeing him, or if this was one of those moments humans on TV talk about seeing ghosts.

  “You should lock that bedroom window….” Israel approached her, and there was a second where she forgot everything about herself, her situation, The Grey, her upbringing, everything was gone, and she was empty—just waiting for whatever blow Israel would hand her.

  In a rush, he grabbed her by the hair and pushed her to the carpet. “Don’t scream…don’t bother…nobody’s home tonight that gives a shit.” Israel’s eyes were fixed on her. It was as if he’d been looking at her picture for hours, studying her features, and now he saw the monster he’d only heard of.

  Israel pounded her head against the ground, and in that second Lisa remembered; she was the monster, she was the beast. He was here because he knew. He knew Lisa was the one to be afraid of. She wouldn’t be passive tonight. What was it with human men attacking her? They weren’t men; these were boys, ridiculous boys.

  On the roof of the apartment building, the team of Mothers silently waited for the leader to give the signal. But, she stopped, put her head to the side, and sniffed the air. The leader didn’t notice Ruth was already gone.

  “Glory, glory ladies….it looks like we might be too late….” All Mothers stopped, looked at one another with smiles on their faces. The kind of smile that could slice meat. “Oh no…you mean we missed bringing her in by just a minute or two?” Another Mother nudged the leader.

  “Oh we missed it by a second….so very sad…inefficient of us…damn it.”

  The leader gave everyone that razor smile. Lisa was hated in this group. Hated for not being worthy of their time. She was not worthy of extraction yet again. She was not worthy of the time it would take to teach her yet another lesson. Orders were to bring Lisa in, and if they were just a smidge late, then they would as a group, shrug at Superior Mother and practice their pained look with one another until they had perfected the simplicity of fake sorrow.

  Israel felt the want to run at his core. His heart told him to stop, and his feet told him to run. If he ran now, maybe she wouldn’t call the police; maybe he’d get home and rationalize that this was all a mistake. But, Lisa did the thing she shouldn’t have. She should have shown Israel her humanity. The side of her that could bargain with him. Instead, she showed him her true face and grabbed his legs, driving ice through his skin.

  Time stopped. The cold in his legs reminded him of the cold he knew he’d feel in space—if her kind would take him there. Seeing her large eyes and hundreds of tiny, deadly ice picks for teeth, Israel licked his lips.

  Ruth sat in the corner, unnoticed by either until she decided to intervene. She wasn’t going to, but she knew Lisa would be the one who won this fight, not the kid. Getting rid of the kid now would make killing Lisa all the less of a hassle. The cold was an inchworm that made its way into Israel’s chest, cutting and jabbing as it went along. It was at his diaphragm, almost to its goal at his heart, when Ruth grabbed him and flung him away from Lisa. Lisa looked at Ruth; she was new. Lisa hadn’t met her before. There was something in Ruth’s posture that told Lisa she wasn’t there to help her. She wasn’t there to save Lisa. Who would want to?

  This Mother kicked Lisa, then made her way to Israel. Leaning down over him, watching his eyes dart back and forth, Ruth held the inhaler to his mouth. Lisa raced across the room, grabbing the knife Israel had dropped. She quickly pushed it into Ruth’s neck.

  Ruth hissed at Lisa as she fell to the ground; her eyes never leaving Lisa’s. Lisa hissed back in her true face, grabbed the inhaler, and shoved it into Ruth’s mouth. “Take a breath bitch, take it!” Lisa felt Ruth flap at her, but almost instantly fell over. This was the way to break The Grey.

  Grabbing Israel’s hand, Lisa pulled him up. “We have to leave. There are more.” Israel grabbed the knife, sparked by confusion, and followed Lisa out the front door. Block after block the two of them ran hand in hand, looking over their shoulders, hiding from every headlight that popped up. Whispering to each other like best friends.

  Finally, miles away from Lisa’s apartment, the two stopped, slipped into a public restroom, and panted for breath. Lisa observed Israel. The sorry she felt for him hung on her. She intended to go about her demise alone. What she started with The Grey would end badly. For the first time in months, she swallowed her
empathy to humans and allowed it to overtake her. Tears ran down her face, and she held pity in her hands.

  “I am sorry… for that…sorry for that.” Sliding to the floor, Lisa looked down. She was in shorts, barefoot, hair in its usual tangle, unwashed, not prepared.

  Israel slumped next to her. He looked as if he would, at any moment, pass out or vomit, but he reached for Lisa and put his head on her leg, lying down on the disgusting bathroom floor. She didn’t know much about humans, especially males or their upbringing, but she could tell that his guy wanted this mother.

  “I hate them.” Lisa rubbed Israel’s head. “I am them.”

  Back at her apartment, the Mothers stood looking down at Ruth’s body. “What the heck?” Each one looked at the others for answers. “We are so very fucked…” One mother said out loud, kicking Ruth’s body. One dead Mother and no Lisa to report back to Superior Mother with. It was better to be dead on the floor with Ruth.

  Superior Mother began gagging on her tea—the tea she drank nightly that usually slid down her throat and eased away all the words she’d said all day. The tea now went down with razor wire. She gagged to the point where the other Mothers came to see if she was alright—with a concern that was masked by its true look; they were looking for weakness. Any sign that they could maneuver that ring from her finger and the power from her grasp.

 

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