I opened my mouth to object. Willingly throwing ourselves into the hands of the Vela was probably the worst idea anyone had, ever. But before I could explain that, Kalisha held her hand up and continued pointedly.
“Once we’re in there, everyone has different orders. Yours are gonna be to find out what the aliens want from their prisoners—us. I’m in charge of sounding the rescue alarm—we’ve got people who are gonna be on alert, just waiting to barrel in and shoot us out. But I’m not gonna sound the alarm ‘til everyone’s job is done. We’ll fill you in on all the details at training tonight. You get all that?”
“What?” I said, incredulous. “You want me to find out what the Vela want? Should I bring a pen for the interview? Or maybe they’d be happy to sit for the camera.”
Kalisha’s enthusiastic tone turned sour.
“No one’s makin’ you do this. You want out, just say the word and I’ll show you the door. I’m ain’t takin’ no slackers with me.”
My head was shaking in disbelief.
“This is insane. Anyone who goes on this mission is going to die, you know.”
Kalisha’s dark eyes narrowed and when she spoke, she barely managed to keep from shouting.
“The only thing dying on this mission will be Vela scum. You’re comin’ along to help make sure of that, so stop with the doomsday attitude and start gearin’ up for a fight.”
She walked out the door, slamming it harder than necessary. But then she opened it again and said, “Seven o’clock tonight—the park by the hospital. Bring your knives.”
Then she was gone again. I cringed a little inside; I hadn’t meant to provoke her. Really, though—what did she expect? Prancing in and announcing we were volunteering to be abducted by aliens. It was mad.
I was mad. I hadn’t expected to be given a free ride—I could work as hard as the next person—but I sure hadn’t planned on being thrown to the wolves either. My only goal for so long now had been survival, but now, being pushed into fighting for something more—for someone else’s goals—well, I didn’t like it.
But if I was being honest, the idea of storming into a nest full of Vela, guns blazing, had plagued my thoughts in the past. It would have been suicide, but at least it would have appeased the lust for revenge. The lust that had somehow waned with the burden of living and the passing of time. How could I have just been bemoaning my own existence?
I put the yellow shirt on. Kalisha was right—it was time for retribution.
Chapter 19
I decided to spend the rest of the afternoon with Lucky. It had been less than a day since I’d left him, but I was nonetheless eager to check in and make sure he was okay. The map the Captain had given me didn’t show the stables, so I had to go by memory. Which was why a few minutes later I was wandering around the nearly-deserted streets, totally disoriented.
“Rhyan?” a voice suddenly called from behind.
Turning, I saw, of all people, Vanessa. She was advancing toward me with a dubious expression.
I paused to let her catch up and after an awkward silence asked, “When did you get here?”
“Only a couple of hours ago. You?”
“Last night.”
She shifted uncomfortably; it was obvious neither of us knew what to say. The last time we’d seen each other I’d been splattered with John’s blood and she’d screamed that she hated me, circumstances that didn’t exactly make for an easy reunion.
“Well, see you,” she finally said.
I didn’t respond. She walked across the street and turned down the closest corner. I doubted she’d been heading that way originally, but wanted to be rid of my company. With only a few hundred people around, though, we would undoubtedly run into each other again.
Sighing deeply, I continued on. Because of my seriously weak sense of direction, it took several more wrong turns before I finally found myself approaching the horse paddocks from afar. Coming at them from the high end of a slope, I had a clear view of the stable. It was almost picture perfect, with a red barn and white-fenced, oval turnouts. Lucky was relaxing in one of these under the afternoon sun, idly swatting flies with his tail. When he noticed my approach, he trotted over.
“How you doing today, boy?” I murmured as I rubbed his head, wishing I’d thought to bring some sort of treat. I left him to rummage around in the nearby shed for some brushes, then set to work on ridding his coat of caked-on mud.
“Is he yours?”
I glanced up from a particularly stubborn ball of mud to see a boy around my age. He was carrying a hose and wearing a shirt that was the same yellow as mine. Only he somehow made it look good.
“Yes,” I answered, turning back to my work.
“He’s a looker. What’s his name?”
“Lucky.”
“What’s your name?”
“It’s Rhyan.”
“Well, nice to meet you, Rhyan. I’m Caleb.”
In response, I mumbled something indeterminate. But he wasn’t easily discouraged.
“You just got here, right? I mean, Lucky only just showed up.”
“Last night.”
“So you’re a twelve, like me.”
I nodded, then asked, “How come you’re here? At the stable?”
“I like to help out here sometimes—I like the horses. But I’m leaving in a couple of days.”
“Into enemy territory?”
“How’d you know?” He sounded surprised.
“I’m on the same mission.”
“Wow, they really let you settle in, didn’t they?”
“Tell me about it.”
“Well, I’m supposed to be filling some water buckets,” he said, gesturing to the hose in his arms. “I guess I’ll see you at the park tonight?”
“Guess so.”
Before he turned away, his dark eyes caught mine for a moment and I could tell we were both thinking the same thing: neither of us wanted to go tonight. Going meant accepting the reality that we were headed into combat. I turned my attention back to the muddy horse as he disappeared behind one of the sheds.
“You’re leaving already?” Claire asked. She’d caught me in the hallway returning from the stable and lured me into her place with more snacks.
“Guess so,” I replied glumly.
“I should’ve warned you about the safety levels. I never did agree with that system, but even so, I’ve never heard of anyone having to leave again so soon.”
I shrugged.
“The captain—keep an eye out for him,” she went on. “I’ve known my share of secretive men, and he’s a classic case. Hold this for a second, will you?” She held out a wire.
I took it and watched as she untwisted a screw from the printer she was working on.
“I imagine you know a thing or two about watching out for yourself,” she went on, eyes focused on her work, “but I’m going to ask you to be extra careful out there. When you get back, we’ll have another movie night. How about Blackbeard’s Ghost?”
“Never heard of it.”
She took the wire back from me and used a pair of tweezers to slide it into the printer.
“It’s a good thing you’ve got me here. It’d be a shame for all the culture to be lost on the next generation.”
I smiled a little.
“Blackbeard’s Ghost is culture?”
“Darn right,” she said, and sat back from her work. “So you just make sure you get back here to watch it.”
“I’ll do what I can.”
Seven o’clock that night found me in the midst of a small but diverse group. There were a couple dozen of both men and women, ages ranging from me-ish to sixties-ish, black people, white people, every shade in between. We were sitting on the cool grass in the center of a tree-mottled park. Kalisha stood before us in a blue shirt. I wondered why she didn’t wear the same yellow the rest of us had on.
“Evening,” she began. “One more person is with us tonight—hand up, Rhyan—and with her, the mission ros
ter is full.”
I didn’t raise my hand, but nevertheless curious eyes glanced back at me as Kalisha went on.
“Tonight, we’re practicing physical combat one more time, so you’ll need a partner. Practice for a bit, then there’s a surprise for later. Questions? No? Okay, weapons out.”
The air was suddenly filled with the metallic sounds of people unsheathing blades. I took my knives out and looked around, a little uncertain. Everyone already seemed to have a partner. Suddenly I was back in junior high.
“Work with me?” Caleb appeared beside me, holding a kama knife.
“Okay.”
Watching the people around us, I got an idea of what they were rehearsing. Basically, just attack each other slowly and practice dodging and blocking. It was absurd. The Vela didn’t attack the way people did. Not to mention the different body shape.
“Why does everyone have blades?” I asked Caleb. “What about guns?”
“Apparently bullets are only used on a must-have basis now. I guess we burned through a lot when the aliens first arrived and now they’re kind of scarce.”
“So we’re going to scare them off with our pointy sticks,” I said sarcastically.
I loved my knives, but they were just for me, one person. Definitely not for battling an entire race of sentient beings into surrender. Caleb only shrugged, then raised the kama.
“Ready?”
Though I’d never had any formal combat training, I could tell just from looking at his stance that Caleb had no idea what he was doing. Maybe experience really was the best teacher. I pulled my knives into a fighting grip and nodded.
He stepped toward me, slashing downward as he came. I spun away easily, and brought the dull side of a knife against his back.
“You’re quick,” he said.
“I’d be dead if I weren’t.”
I thought it was a casual remark, but Caleb lowered his knife and looked downward.
“They’re really that fast, huh,” he said.
“They’re fast,” I said. “When they want to be.”
“I’ve never done this—never had to fight one. I arrived here in a big group. They never let anyone under eighteen fight. Then we got here and now suddenly I have to.”
“Why?” I asked.
Caleb’s shoulder slumped a little as he answered.
“I’m half Brazilian, so I was brought up speaking Portuguese and English. And I took a couple of sign language classes in high school too, so I’m supposedly the most linguistic person fit for duty. They want somebody to try and establish some sort of communication.”
“What? That’s crazy.” I said. No one could learn alien ABCs if they were worried about their head being split open.
“They want me to get pictures of the writings I find—they do have a written language—when we’re in there to study after we get back. They think it’ll help if I see everything firsthand, rather than photos taken by someone else.”
Springfield must have been in a worse situation than I’d thought, if they were relying on high school students to take care of things like investigation and communication. Or maybe all the qualified people just didn’t want to go, and handed off all the hazardous jobs to the twelves. Whatever the reason, I disapproved.
Caleb and I got back to work. I taught him a few different knife jabs and about shifting his weight with the movements. He tried, but it was obvious he was going to need more practice. A lot more.
The park lamps began flicking on around us when Kalisha called for our attention again. She was standing next to three big crates that had just been delivered to our gathering.
“Because tonight is our last combat practice, we’re going to make it count. The scouts got three of the creatures for us to train with, so we’re gonna see how you do against the real thing. I waited 'til the sun was down since it might be dark where we’re going.”
The crates rattled a little and I saw people throwing apprehensive glances at each other. I wondered how many of them had actually fought in real hand-to-claw combat.
“We have three subjects, so we’ll get into three groups. Remember what you’ve been practicing.”
Kalisha made some organizational gestures and I found myself in a group with a few middle-aged people, none of who looked like they wanted to do this. Kalisha opened our crate and a foul-smelling monster came barreling out, claws swiping the air, garbling incomprehensibly—more panicked than anything.
A bald man stepped forward, swinging a hatchet. He ducked underneath the first set of claws that came lashing at him, but must’ve forgotten about the second, because they caught his back. The blow knocked him off balance and he fell to his knees. The alien was all but on top of him when I launched forward.
It would have been difficult to get a blow into the creature’s middle without cutting the man, so I settled for a good long slash on its side. Not as effective for killing, but it did make the alien falter. The man half-crawled out of reach, blood pouring from his shoulder where he must’ve been struck a second time.
Turning to the enemy, this time I put the knife where I wanted it—right in its center. Dark blue blood began pooling in the grass. People covered their noses from the rancid stench that permeated the night air. I wondered if this was what would’ve happened to John’s alien, if he’d been able to get it here.
A frightened yell distracted me from the gruesome sight. Looking over my shoulder I saw a half a dozen people sprinting toward us, some speckled with blood, none of it blue. The Vela that had caused the chaos was lurching toward a shadowy figure who refused to flee, raising a kama knife instead.
Sprinting toward the scene, I yelled, “Caleb! Back off!”
Either he didn’t hear me or he didn’t want to listen, because he swung his blade in an upward stroke, just like we’d practiced only moments ago. But he hadn’t taken into consideration how far the Vela’s reach was, and I watched in horror as he took a blow straight to the chest.
He didn’t even cry out—just slumped to the ground like a deflated balloon. Finally I reached the alien and with two well-placed slashes, had it bleeding on the ground. I knelt on the grass and rolled Caleb over so I could see the injury.
It was bad. Blood was everywhere, but I could still see that the slashes hadn’t left enough skin for stitches.
“Let me see him,” a voice said quietly in my ear. It was Maddy, the nurse from the hospital. She pulled supplies from her bag and began wiping blood.
My gaze traveled across the park. All around people were huddled in clusters of threes and fours, some crying, others just staring into the night. The last group had managed to bring down its alien, but likely because it had already been injured when it was captured. It was a discouraging scene. No wonder we’d fallen so easily to the invaders; most people weren’t combat fighters. These people definitely weren’t.
They were all going to die.
Chapter 20
“You can’t seriously still be considering this,” I said, not even trying to keep the irritation out of my voice.
“Not going ain’t an option,” Kalisha responded.
Her muscles strained as she tugged at one of the Vela corpses, trying to pull it back into the crate. The park had pretty well emptied except for a couple of workers who’d arrived to help clean up. The nurses had taken Caleb to the hospital on a stretcher, where I hoped he was recuperating.
“Going isn’t an option. How can you not see that, after tonight? We won’t last two minutes.”
“Look, Rhyan,” she said, standing up straight. “I volunteered to lead this group to make sure those vermin pay for what they did. We’re going, so you might as well stop your bellyachin’.”
She bent over again and seized the carcass, grunting as she heaved it across the grass. I shook my head in disbelief as I watched her go. How could anyone be so callous with other people’s lives?
And you weren’t callous with John’s life? The troublesome thought permeated through my haughty mood.
That’s not the same thing, I insisted to myself. I would never put dozens of people’s lives at risk the way Kalisha is.
Well, no, this wasn’t really Kalisha’s plan. She was just an all-too-eager pawn. If I wanted to make someone see reason, it would have to be the man in charge.
Walking past the radio and its request to announce myself, I barged right through the doors into the Captain’s office. He was sitting at his desk across from a woman with long frizzy hair. His eyebrows rose at the sight of me, but he composed himself quickly.
“Rhyan, how nice to see you.”
“Save it,” I snapped. “You need to call off this death mission right now. You can’t send these people. It’s practically homicide.”
The woman turned in her chair and surveyed me with dislike. Vanessa.
“I’m afraid this isn’t the time for discussion,” the Captain said. “I’m in the middle of a new arrival orientation. Perhaps I can meet with you tomorrow.”
I was about to reply, but Vanessa opened her mouth first.
“You’re sending her on a mission?” she said. “You can’t send her. She’s a killer.”
The Captain’s glance darted between the scowls Vanessa and I were shooting each other.
“I see you two know one another.”
“Seriously, Captain,” Vanessa said, turning back to him. “You can’t trust her. She’s a murderer.”
“That’s a serious accusation, Vanessa.”
“I was there—I saw it myself. We were traveling together—there used to be three of us. But once John was—“ she cut off, inhaling sharply, “was killed, I left. I couldn’t stay there, not with her. I didn’t know what else she might do.”
“You said yourself John was crazy,” I snarled. “He was going to kill me!”
“So you say! Just like you said Shawn was killed by a Vela, but I was never sure I believed that. Why does anyone you’re with end up dead?”
Girl Vs (Sinister Skies Book 1) Page 8
